Earlier this year trials were held in Fettercairn to find five kids with raw riding talent, in the hope of turning them into showjumpers over the course of 10 weeks. The idea of trying to meld kids with experience of 'jockeying' around suburban Dublin fields into the world of showjumping . . . exchanging hoodies for jodhpurs . . . is a terrific one, but while it provides fine entertainment, Gavin and Kurten were soon at the end of their tether. If you fostered a dream of being a teacher but are employed as a plumber, accountant or exotic dancer, watching this programme would be enough to make you hug your wrench, spread sheet or, erm, pole. In short, trying to teach teenagers anything is a nightmare.

The children were brought to RACE (Racing Academy & Centre of Education) at the Curragh this week and as their guide was holding forth, Squeaky, a wiry 14-year-old from Finglas with natural riding ability but no affinity for taking direction, leaned against a wall with a glazed look in his eyes and his hands in his pockets. On seeing this, the guide explained that jockeys were athletes and would never slouch like that, but Squeaky just stared back with no intention of righting himself, hands still resolutely buried in his pockets.

Later, Dean and Squeaky got in an altercation over a riding simulator ("I'll smash your face." "Come on and smash my face then.") that ended with Dean being told to sit down and behave himself.

Being a truculent teen, he managed to slouch to the point where he was literally horizontal on the chair. At this point Diarmuid was in full embarrassed-mother mode. "You're a guest in someone's place and look at you."

Kurten had extra reason to be irked, flying in from Germany once a week for the honour of being ignored by belligerent teens, while trainer Ronan Corrigan often looked like he'd like to use his horsewhip for a new purpose. At one point he was trying to get the group to trot around in a circle but Squeaky insisted on galloping no matter how much Corrigan shouted and gesticulated. "Slow down."

"I'm just trying to catch up with them [in front]." "You're leading the group, " said Corrigan in a tone that 'exasperated' doesn't even come close to covering.

In fairness to Squeaky, Dean, Thomas, Jade and Daryl though, they may not always be the greatest when it comes to discipline but you'd have to admire their bravery. Much of their frustration ("This horse is bloody stupid") is understandable as the learning curve they're on is far steeper than you'd expect for a knockabout reality show. Plus if you find Diarmuid Gavin insufferably smug then there's the added bonus of seeing him getting frustrated at every turn.

TV3's Grassroots series aims to reveal the beating heart of the GAA and they started with a look inside the workings of the Dingle club. They take the 'one life, one club' dictum to heart down there.

Treasurer Colm Nealon opined at one stage, "You're brought up playing Dingle football and you'll probably die playing Dingle football." Well, they do know how to hit a shoulder down in Kerry.

The show wasn't groundbreaking but it was pleasant viewing, and while there's hand wringing within (and often without) the association every year over championship structures, violence on the pitch, the GPA, etcetera, this was a reminder of just how solid the bedrock of the GAA is.

You can't go far wrong when you have clubs with chairmen who cut the pitch like Dingle's John Foley. "Yerrah, the odd meeting you'd prefer to be out cutting the grass. And if All Ireland tickets come upf I'd rather be picking stones." Not a stone to be found on the Dingle pitch this week so.