RACING has never been known for its excess of rationality or its temperance in judgment.

It was no surprise then that the Racing Post, the bible of racing though without the consoling psalms, should declare on William Hill Ayr Gold Cup morning: "So you think that was a tough decision?", pointing out that that easy-squeasy referendum was just a matter of scrawling a cross against Yes or No while picking a winner from 27 thoroughbreds thundering down a six-furlong patch of grass is a task beyond most.

The dispiriting news from Ayrshire was that the home drought continues under the September sun. A Scottish trainer has not won the race since 1975 when Nigel Angus trained the great Roman Warrior. There was, though, a Celtic tinge to the winner with an Irish owner, an Irish trainer and a jockey called Doyle, though James of that ilk hails from Cambridgshire.

Louis the Pious, though not of humble Caledonian roots, was the answer to many prayers as he came in at 10-1 to lift the £99,000 first prize. He has, too, one Scottish resonance in the style of Robert the Bruce and that pesky spider. Louis the Pious finished runner-up in the race last year.

The best advice to the punter was, of course, given by the sage of Springfield that is Homer Simpson, who declared to his offspring: "You tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is never try."

This philosophy is alien to the winning trainer, David O'Meara, who hails from Cork, and to owner Frank Gillespie, a Donegal man. The former is a trainer on the up, something marked almost unnecessarily by the victory in the Microtech Support Handicap through Earth Drummer (7-2f)just more than an hour after his Gold Cup triumph.

The latter is an owner who has the most important trait in the business; he is lucky. He has six horses and one of them is now an Ayr Gold Cup winner and has also a triumph at Royal Ascot on his record.

Almost incidentally, another is the The Grey Gatsby, one of the best colts of his generation in Europe, who has won the Dante Stakes, the Prix du Jockey Club and defeated Australia, the dual Derby winner, in the Irish Champion Stakes.

Those seeking to solve the puzzle rated so difficult by the Racing Post had, at least in hindsight, some pertinent pointers. The winner came from the same stall as last year with the high draw being vital. Doyle had also had two winners on the day before he climbed aboard Louis the Pious. He drove Power Play (6-1) home for Richard Hannon in the QTS Nursery Handicap and then won the William Hill Silver Cup, with £30,000 to the winner, on Huntsmans Close (9-1) for Roger Charlton.

He had to give way to Graham Lee and Dark Reckoning (25-1) in the Group 3 William Hill Firth of Clyde Stakes for Fillies, but came into the Gold Cup cavalry charge with a confidence as high as a prog rock guitarist. "I was lucky and half the field were not," he said in reference to the draw. "I got a nice slot and it went well. He bolted up in the end."

Of his treble, on only his second visit to the course, he said: "I have had an easy day. My job was to point and to steer them." The treble paid out at 769-1.

The Scottish hopes of Jim Goldie, of Uplawmoor, both ran very well, but were hampered by poor draws, a burden of weight and the good ground. Jack Dexter finished a highly credible eighth with Haweyethenoo in 11th.

However, racing is all about the winning and Gillespie, owner of Louis the Pious, was admirably succinct and humble, though predictably ebullient, after the latest victory by one of his charges.

The Irishman has earned his money the hard way through construction and seemed somewhat overcome by the blessings that a fickle racing game has bestowed upon him.

His grin was as wide as the two-and-three-quarter length distance that separated Lous the Pious from Minalisa, trained by Frank Berry and ridden by Rae Guest. Blaine, the 7-1 favourite, finished third, depriving the race of its first woman jockey winner in the shape of Amy Ryan.

But Gillespie was sensible in the euphoria of victory. He brushed aside the madness, the hubris of having designs on top prizes by insisting: "You do not have aspirations. You just hope for the best."

If the Irishman was practical, he was surrounded by a sea of punters who faced the vicissitudes of a series of setbacks with a resilience bolstered by a heroic intake of alcohol. Ayr Gold Cup day is becoming an occasion rather than just a succession of races and it is oddly affecting.

For an old-time racegoer, it still seems odd that the enclosures resemble the moments at a wedding where guests pile out on to the lawns while the principals have their photie taken.

The recommended dress attire is West of Scotland party. That is, men wear shiny suits. Ties, normally only applied to necks at funerals, are also wrapped around necks.

The women vary from conspicuously classy to charmingly chav. Most dresses adhere to the imperative that less is very much more. There was more flesh on show in the racecourse bar than in the parade ring, where the runners seemed overdressed in a mere racing saddle.

If the day did not have that elusive Caledonian winner in the main event, it did serve as a reminder of the great Homer's imparted wisdom to Bart. "Son, in sport it is not whether you win or lose that matters; it's how drunk you get."

It was loud, liquid and mostly losing at Ayr yesterday. It was fun, too, at teatime. Perhaps less so this morning.