In hushed tones, akin to a quiet conversation in a church service, Wesley Joyce communicates. When purchasing items in stores, the cashier often reciprocates his low volume, perhaps in a strange display of courtesy, or comments playfully about him having a strenuous evening before. Joyce gives them a wry smile and acknowledges their comment – a complex tale behind it. When interviewed at horse races, the interviewer ensures the microphone is close, as those within the racing community are well aware of Joyce’s situation. A fall nearly cost him his life, costing him only the strength of his voice.
Efforts to restore his voice continue, with numerous tests and surgical procedures having been carried out. They’ve even sought expertise from a specialist in England who may provide a solution. Meanwhile, Joyce adapts to a life that was both shattered and salvaged.
“If my voice remains this way, I don’t mind,” he conveys. “I still have the ability to interact with people. If my voice is the only casualty, then so be it. I’m fortunate to be here. Considering I survived with just a voice impairment, I believe I was lucky. I can promptly express myself, even without a voice.”
Over two years have passed since his disastrous accident while riding Red Heel at the Galway Festival, and over a year after his return. The quite likelihood of his prospects kept fluctuating, principally for the worse. When paramedics transported him from the Galway racecourse to the hospital, his survival was uncertain. If he were to stay alive, possible brain damage was the subsequent concern.
Joyce spent seven days on life support and about six weeks in a critical care unit, some of it unconscious and tethered to the bed with a feeding tube. Both his lungs were compromised and required constant, painful drainage. Joyce had endured trauma to the chest, multiple broken ribs, and injuries to his oesophagus and larynx. Following the accident, his left arm showed no signs of normal blood circulation.
His loved ones were promptly called to the hospital. Gradually, the suspected outcomes became slightly less grim than the previous.
Approximately two weeks had elapsed prior to his regained consciousness. He requested the presence of Karen Keehan, a young person’s advisor affiliated with the Youth Academy in Moyross, Limerick, whom he considered his guarding angel.
Without hesitation, Keehan sped off to Galway. She shares, already feeling sentimental, that she found him awake though immobilised upon her arrival. She assured him of his fortunate survival and her delight to see his jovial expression.
In response, he asked her if she had seen his accidental fall. She hadn’t, and she hadn’t chosen to view it. He insisted to show her on his phone, eager to dissect the event with her. They viewed it together, and she was shocked.
He asserted his eagerness to resume horse riding. Taken aback, she questioned his sanity, and even her own involvement in his equestrian pursuits. But he was adamant about his passion for riding.
Keehan had first met Joyce in Corpus Christi, a primary school in Moyross, when he was just five years old. An equine programme had been initiated by the local youth scheme, and Joyce had been introduced to them by a teacher. Horses and ponies were a vibrant part of the Moyross residential landscape.
Recalling his fascination for horses, Keehan characterised him as fearless, bareback-riding everywhere. His contentment was most apparent when he was seated on a horse. Observing Joyce’s arrival, she noticed the mutual acknowledgment between riding instructors, indicative of their recognition of his talent.
Joyce estimates spending about €70 on two ponies by the time he was thirteen, despite not having a place to stable them. Nevertheless, they were considered part of the family.
In Joyce’s mind, horses were so domesticated that they could be set free to roam across the shared residential field after being ridden to his front door.
Frequent trips to the commune’s shop to purchase animal sustenance was part of my routine. Numerous others from the community did the same in order to take care of the many prime-condition horses inhabiting the local area. These individuals owned no land, so the horses had to rely on the urban areas for grazing.
The young Joyce needed stern discipline, understanding, and careful handling. In his youth, Wesley had an untamed side to him, Keehan recounts. An irresistible curiosity drove him to push boundaries, much to the amusement and worry of his parents.
A previous accident prompted physicians to question his parents about past skull fractures that surfaced in a scan, leaving his mother, Geraldine, and Karen, puzzled. With a hint of playfulness, I revealed to the doctor that Wesley’s adventurous nature, involving numerous tree climbing and falling instances, were likely causes.
In the Moyross initiative, they focused on enhancing the potential of the youths through fostering ambition. Many had to begin from the ground up. Wesley, however, presented a unique case. Despite all the difficulties, he showed an unyielding determination. Though unaware of the nuances of a jockey’s career, he developed a dream to become one.
Despite Wesley being a challenging character that tested the patience of others, he also required empathy and perseverance from others, like all individuals do.
“I grew up amidst a fair amount of mischief, often led astray by undesirable companions and involving myself in questionable deeds,” Wesley confesses. Karen would continually intervene and advise against such misbehaviour, only to observe him returning to his old ways the following day. She had probably exhausted herself trying to steer me towards the right path, he chuckled.
“They were aware of the potential path I might have taken and the one I was currently on. Hence, they took me under their protection, guided me, and constantly nudged me in the right direction. I was continually treading on a thin line, yet I was always conscious of this fact and was sure I could correct my course.”
During his late teenage years, Joyce applied to Race, the horse racing academy located in Kildare, only to get a rejection. They advised him to attain a bit of maturity before joining. He stayed patient for a year before making another application.
“After obtaining my Junior Cert, I chose to discontinue school. On being asked about my future plans, I responded I intended to become a jockey,” Joyce recalls. “The teacher then asked about my Plan B, to which I replied I had none. I firmly believed that if I allowed doubt to creep in, my progress toward becoming a jockey would be undermined.”
Things, however, never went smoothly. His tenure at Race was cut short by the global pandemic, leading to everyone being sent home. Keehan realised Joyce needed to be in a racing yard for optimal progress, leading to an approach to Johnny Murtagh, who embraced Joyce enthusiastically.
In the beginning, the struggle was real. Joyce would make daily calls to Keehan, who persuaded him to persist. He finally understood that this was his golden opportunity- a good track, abundant opportunities, nurturing trainer, and an environment abundantly supplied with discipline and compassion.
However, in the middle of 2022’s season, fortune turned its back on him. He was just about to surpass last year’s winning record, but the accident left his chances in murky waters. After the hospital discharge, his condition was so frail from muscle loss that he weighed below seven stone.
Reflecting on Joyce’s condition, Keehan mentioned, “He was skeletal, his movements extremely slow and lethargic. It was clear he was terribly sick. Around Christmas, five months post his accident, I could not help but worry about his traumatized condition which he seemed to be oblivious of.”
Dr Jennifer Pugh, a medical professional with the Turf Club, provided Wesley with outstanding care, performing tasks well beyond her expected duties. She organised his appointments and was always available to take his calls. She once told me that the injuries he sustained were typically documented in a postmortem following a motorcycle accident.
Last year in February, Race decided to take Wesley back as a resident to enable him to train with fitness coach Wayne Middleton. The initial focus was on regaining his aerobic strength as both his lungs had suffered punctures, and his oesophagus was working at only 80% efficiency.
“Running even two kilometres would leave me gasping for breath,” says Wesley. “I could hardly breathe even when I was just jogging.”
Wesley’s physical constraints were a source of frustration for him, recalls Keehan. “He would often skip Wayne’s sessions out of fear. He was scared because he would pant excessively after the sessions. We had to reassure him that his panting was a result of his lungs still healing and his oesophagus only partially open. ‘Just give it time to recover, Wes,’ we told him. That’s when he started doubting himself. ‘Is this all I have got? Is this the end?'”
Before Wesley could get back in the saddle, he required a medical clearance. The surgeon who had conducted his operation in Galway wouldn’t give it. Hence, he sought a second opinion. The other doctor said, “Look, if you really want to get back in the saddle, you can do so, but remember, you’re doing it at your own risk.”
Even after all that he’d been through, Joyce was convinced that his bravery was untouched. His fortitude remained sturdy despite the severe fall. He shares, “Since I don’t recall waking up that morning and going to Galway, or being at the races and the complete incident, the pain in the hospital is also a blur. It’s like watching a video from the past. Since I didn’t feel anything then, I have nothing to fear now.”
The triumphant race he won in Cork last August was witnessed by his mother. Geraldine, who had never been a horse racing enthusiast before the accident, made an effort to be present at every possible event after his triumphant return, consumed by worry and dedication to his journey.
“Each morning before I set off for work, I receive a message from her: ‘Have a great day Wes. I adore you.’ And each night before I go to sleep, another message arrives: ‘Good night Wes. I adore you.’ She’s not from a racing background, and to me, that’s a positive. Even if I have a terrible ride, end up utterly miserable on my way home, she’d message me: ‘You performed brilliantly my boy. I adore you’, and it would make me laugh. It’s something special. I adore her immensely.”
Joyce is now stationed at Michael Mulvaney’s stable. Among his racing horses is Red Heel, who was part of his team when Joyce had his accident in Galway. From that point, Red Heel participated in 22 races and emerged victorious only once. Four months ago, on a Down Royal evening, Joyce was the jockey. Hard to believe.
“After the race I retreated to the car and burst into tears. Driving from Down Royal back to Kildare, I found myself overwhelmed. Memories of the accident and the subsequent hospital struggle resurfaced. And I thought to myself, ‘I’ve just won a race riding her’. I called Karen. I conveyed, ‘Karen, you would not believe what just took place.’ I simply wept”.
There’s no more to be said.