Faultless, Ep 5: All the Rage in Dublin

If you are not or have not watched Faultless, or if by some bizarre confluence of events, you have decided not to mark off time to do so on your calendar, do me a favor and—

Just watch Episode 5.

Episode 5, in which we go to the Dublin Horse Show and watch a raging Darragh Kenny spewing profanity like a UFC fighter and melancholic Daniel Coyle declare himself angry with his disappointing results—

THIS is sport.

Now I know a lot of people might judge frustration filigreed with four-letter words less-than-graciously, but what I see is a competitive spirit really giving a sh-t and it gives me the most pleasant feeling. Like I’m not alone in raging at my fate.

And yeah, I get it. Kenny is angry about not being picked for the Nations Cup at Dublin, oft-referred to as the “Irish Olympics,” while I’m raging about a lost croquet match played with a plastic set in my backyard.

Here we are at the Royal Dublin Horse Show and let me tell you—this IS the greatest horse show of them all. It really is. Not Aachen. Because what do you do or eat in Aachen? Where do you sleep? Are you able to visit the library at Trinity? Are you able to see the book of Kells? Or are you sitting in the blazing sun, scarcely able to move, being yelled at by German people because a sound, barely louder than a sigh, passed your lips?

I have my prejudices, there is no doubt.

This week, we are following Darragh Kenny and Daniel Coyle. Kenny, who admits he was “annoying as a kid,” and born someone who didn’t much like to listen to rules. Growing up on a farm in Ireland, he found horses quickly and found his sport addiction at age ten when he first started winning.

Now, ensconced in a fancy farm in Connecticut, surrounded by abundant pastureland and even more abundant clients, Kenny is a rider known to have the ability to “get a three-legged donkey to jump a clear round.”

Coyle grew up in Northern Ireland with no silver spoon. He struggled in school because of severe dyslexia and found himself escaping to horses to escape from books. He left home early, using horses to get away from the academics he felt he couldn’t conquer. Either he would make it in show jumping or he wouldn’t make it at all, because, he says, who gives a job to someone who can’t read or write?

And then we see her, Ariel Grange, probably the most famous owner in show jumping. She’s recognizable in an instant, with her iconic boots and cowboy hat. No one owns a horse like this woman does, let me tell you—she’s the envy of every owner alive!

She “gets dirtier” than most owners, and you will see her with her horses, walking the course, in confab with Daniel—just being a boss wherever she goes. And wherever she goes, success seems to follow.

But this is show jumping, so we know success doesn’t just follow—she drags it out with keen strategy and persistent dedication.

Now it is Wednesday, and the Irish team is being announced at a press conference. Kenny has Eddy Blue, whose five-star performances leave little doubt he’s one of the best horses in the world. Coyle is in Dublin with Legacy and Incredible, both of whom are exactly what their names describe.

But neither is announced for the Irish team.

And so it begins, one of the most satisfying montages in all of sports documentary history: Kenny here, unfurling a scroll of blasphemous condemnation. Kenny there, letting fly a flurry of obscenities. “It’s not that I want to be on the team,” he says. “It’s that I should be.”

Coyle is perhaps less flamboyant in his dismay, but oh, those sad eyes! They seem to pool in his face and one can just get lost in them, spinning into an abyss of sorrow, swirling in an eddy (blue) of disappointment!

It seems that, with Kenny’s colorful words and Coyle’s dyslexia, neither has the vocabulary to navigate the politics of the Irish team, which has placed two young up-and-comers, Tom Wachman and Seamus Hughes Kennedy, in team positions longed-for by the more experienced veterans.

To an Irish rider, nothing matters like the Dublin Horse Show. To hoist the Aga Khan, as the Nations Cup trophy is known, above one’s head in the heart of Dublin in front of the throngs of hometown fans—ask anyone who has done it: there is nothing like it. I have never been to a show where national pride is more on display.

And there sit Kenny and Coyle in the VIP, spectators.

Now, prepare for spoilers, but somewhat satisfying ones: First, Ireland, deprived of Kenny and Coyle, cannot pull off a win. They come in third, but their score over two rounds is a measly 4 faults and the youngsters both acquit themselves well, earning double clears.

But it was not enough to withstand the Dutch assault, and there he is, our favorite from Episode 2—Willem Greve, helping his team to end on zero and land on the top of the podium with his double clear round.

The Dutch team wins it with a score of zero, Germany gets second with 4 faults but a faster time than the Irish.

Kenny is still pissed off. This is because, in losing out on a spot on the team, he’s also lost out on a chance to qualify for the Grand Prix. He has one shot left, which he takes in the last qualifying class the next day. There’s only four spots available, and after a four-fault round he’s the fifth.

What a way to “cap off a shitty week.” Florid papyrus scroll of profanity, followed by:

“I’m going to have a beer.”

Coyle, however, is in.

Now, if you want to know how this GP went, read the write up I did belly-down on my hotel bed with only minutes to go before my plane took off for London. Because I had a horse in this one, a horse that earned a mere four faults while everyone else trashed the course. It wasn’t until the 39th rider, a Ms. Laura Kraut, that my hopes for a four-faulter jump off were dashed—way to ruin my life almost as bad as Kenny’s was ruined!

Yes, Kraut pulled out a clear at the last minute, a clear no one else on that course on that day could achieve. Coyle is mad (8 faults), Kenny is furious (not qualified), and I’m raging at the gods as if I were playing croquet with a plastic set in my backyard (6th place)!

But hey—that’s sport, and for the first time in this docuseries, I feel like I was living it.

The episode ends as Kraut hauls the gleaming silver trophy over her head and Darragh says, calm and wise after a “c—t of a whole week”—

“You keep fighting to be better.”

(Note: I reached out to Kenny for comment. He said his current sojourn in Europe has made it impossible for him to view Faultless, as it is only currently available in the US and Canada. He did, however, express sympathy over my results in the backyard croquet game.)

Up for more Faultless? Read Erica Hatfield’s previous recaps: