'The party has started and Shark has a cowboy-booted brunette on his shoulders'

". . . The land of the free... and the home of the brave."

The American national anthem comes to an end, the police officers take their hands down from their hearts and the crowd cheers wildly. "Up Wexford!" shouts Mikey Fogarty, causing a few glances to be thrown his way.

It's sunny and warm in Far Hills, New Jersey. The giant wooden watchtower, the only permanent building I can see, stands out among the ocean of cars parked around it. The tents down below are the stables and the weigh-room. The stars and the stripes flutter in the wind left, right and centre. This place is a racecourse for one day a year, and what a day it is.