The Hereford's time to shine at Cork Summer Show

I plan to do so this summer, and if you had only half a brain, you'd do the same.

After years of hiding in the bushes, I am finally coming out of the closet.

I will take a bullock to a show this year, and I will win too, for coming second is not an option... not for a spirited old individual like me.

The bullock I have chosen was an easy choice to make. He's the Whitehead; the fellow I have written so eloquently about here before.

Or, for the more technically minded, he's what's called a 'Hereford' to give him his proper title — my one and only, if truth be told.

Hereford by name, wild by nature. A diamond in the rough. A jewel in the Nile.

The bullock was the fellow I purchased from your man back in Beara.

He was calm when he arrived, but alas, has gone stone mad since.

Whatever it is about the furze, the extreme darkness and the way I might stare at cattle occasionally, they all go wild in the finish. There's no way around it.

But in spite of his reckless and tempestuous nature, he'll win all round him, if I can only get him into a cattle box.

He's a winner alright from head to toe, of that there can be little doubt.

In my field of half-castrated bulls, renegades, and other questionable half-breeds, he's outstanding.

I see him now mounting the boundary ditch; there's no stopping him.

I see the look of a winner in his eye, in his good eye at least.

He may be small for his age, but so too was Tiger Roll when he romped home at Aintree.

He may have a touch of ringworm, but sure, don't we all?

His back might be narrow and his backside non-existent, but so too was the winner at Curraheen Park on Saturday night.

My Hereford is an outstanding animal when he's around. A fellow sadly missed when he's gone into a neighbour's field.

I will probably start with the Cork Summer Show next weekend, for as the crow flies, it's the nearest big show to my patch here in Kilmichael. And I feel I might as well go for the jugular of Agricultural Shows, if I'm going to go at all.

I expect to take home the Hereford title next Saturday, for there will be nothing to compare to my wild buck.

It's in the battle to take the Overall Breed Champion that we may struggle. For in between all the other cattle, I may struggle, not only to win, but to hold onto my rambunctious Hereford. He doesn't like other cattle. Nor does he like loud music, crowds or wheelbarrows.

If you see me and my bullock on Saturday, please approach with caution. Neither of us reacts well to spontaneous outbursts of encouragement.

Tread carefully... if you intend to tread at all.

But have no fear, I won't back away if I get within a sniff of success.

If push comes to shove, I won't be afraid to do a bit of pushing myself.

I'll pull tight on the reigns when the judge comes around, I'll encourage my charge not to charge.

I will smile and exchange pleasantries with well-to-do types, if so encouraged.

I'll put my best foot forward and try to ensure my bullock does the same.

It will be a fight to the finish, but fight I will, and we will prevail.

With the right application of shampoo and conditioner, with the correct use of a hair comb, I could have both myself and my Champion Hereford smelling of roses and covered in victory laurels before next Saturday is over.

On a day in Curraheen when everyone looks sensational, we intend to really shine.