The sadness is that he cannot hear replays of Sir Peter O'Sullevan's evocative commentary: "It's hats off and a tremendous reception – you've never heard one like it at Liverpool!"

He also knows that this spine-tingling ovation will be matched if Unsung Heroine, the highly-regarded filly that he has tenderly nursed back to fitness from a chronic leg injury, wins the Ladbrokes St Leger –the final classic of the English flat racing season – at Doncaster on Saturday.

The proud Irishman will be able to see the crowd applauding a training feat that will rival the very best in the sport's rich history. He just won't be able to hear the applause after being left profoundly deaf following his battle with meningitis a decade ago – a debilitating illness which left him on a hospital life-support machine for a fortnight.

But, in many respects, that is the least of Stack's concerns.

For the 62-year-old knows is lucky to be alive – and he will just be thankful to be back in Yorkshire, the county where he forged his career as a jump jockey and where he formed an unlikely alliance with a quirky, injury-prone horse of unforeseen potential that was to become the world's most famous racehorse.

"Yorkshire? Means the world to Dad," says Stack's son, Fozzy, who is now his father's right-hand man at the family's stables in County Tipperary.

"It's where it all started. Where he became champion jockey. Where he came across Red Rum. And where, God willing, he wins his first Classic since his illness.

"It will be as if his life has come full circle."

Tommy Stack's childhood, growing up on his family's farm in the 1950s and riding his pony across the rolling fields, meant it was odds-on that he would be entranced by his country's love affair with horses.

But not quite. He was also a precocious rugby player, good enough to play scrum-half for Munster schoolboys, and a career in insurance initially beckoned when he left school.

His break came when childhood friend Barry Brogan sacked his head lad. He needed someone
to take three horses across the Irish Sea to Liverpool, and care
for them.

Stack obliged. And he became hooked. So much so that, on his return to the Emerald Isle, he wrote to 10 trainers in England offering to work free so that
he could fulfil his dream of becoming a jockey.

Disappointingly, only one trainer replied – Captain Neville Crump, Middleham's legendary trainer – and his courteous words of encouragement could not mask the fact that he had no career opening.

All was not lost. Tommy's brother-in-law, a butcher, sold cattle to Bobby Renton, the consummate horseman, who trained horses near Ripon and who had guided Freebooter to National glory in 1950.

Mr Renton travelled to Dublin to interview the rider, and the deal was done. They didn't look back. Stack's first ride was on New Money at Wetherby in October 1965. Though not a victory, the winners soon started flowing.

Yet, as Stack's career progressed, he was asked to school an unconvincing horse – by the name of Red Rum – on the gallops.

He was not impressed. "He was always on his toes jogging around the place. He was not the nicest horse to be riding out," the rider recalled in a BBC documentary.

He was even more dispirited, on one crisp winter's morning, when "Rummy" blundered over the first fence – and then refused at the second obstacle. Stack's mood darkened further when he was
told that he would be riding the horse in a novice chase at Newcastle the next day.

He could not refuse. His riding career was still in its infancy. Every ride – however perilous – had to be viewed as an opportunity, even if a trip to casualty appeared the most likely outcome. It is a gamble which jump jockeys take every day, their bravery often bordering upon the foolhardy.

But, ironically, Red Rum did not put a foot wrong, finishing third and catching the eye of Southport taxi driver and trainer, Ginger McCain, who decided to buy the horse when he was sold at Doncaster sales in 1972.

It was a stroke of luck – for McCain and Stack. The trainer's gallops, Southport beach, proved ideal for a horse with such tender legs. The salt water prolonged Rummy's career.

And, when McCain wanted a new jockey for Red Rum after a parting of the ways with Brian Fletcher, the horse's regular pilot, he turned to Stack, who, by then, was at the top of his profession.

The new combination were a gallant second in the 1976 Liverpool marathon before galloping into immortality the following year.

Horse and rider were poetry in motion as they tackled the 30 obstacles in perfect harmony; Stack and Red Rum making steady progress before taking the lead at Becher's Brook on the second circuit when the leader Andy Pandy fell.

From that moment, the result was never in doubt.

"He wasn't even sweating!" marvelled an exhilarated Stack as the grim-faced bookmakers counted their losses.

However racing is a great leveller and, months later, Stack was on the receiving end, when a horse slipped and rolled onto his prostrate body in the paddock at Hexham. His injuries, including 13 fractures to his pelvis, left him in traction for three months.

He could not attend the BBC Sports Personality of the Year ceremony when Red Rum was the star turn. Instead, he was wheeled into a Leeds studio where he talked about the race; Rummy pricking his ears when he heard the rider's voice. "He's thinking, I've met that fellow before, some place," said Stack.

Stack, champion jockey in both 1974-75 and again in 1976-77, retired from riding the following year – ironically after riding Red Rum in the final race of the horse's illustrious career.

The rider's bravery in returning to the saddle briefly still
astonishes his weighing room colleague John Francome – the former champion jockey and bestselling author, whose latest thriller, Final Breath, has just been published.

"Tommy used up more lives than the average cat," says Francome. "But he's still here – and it doesn't surprise me that he's doing so well.

"His eyes are as sharp as ever. That's his greatest advantage. It probably helps if he doesn't hear a horse gurgling, or whatever.

"But he's always got on well with horses – you only have to see the Sports Personality of the Year clip. He has a real affinity with horses. Hope his horse wins the St Leger."

To the surprise of few, Stack became one of Ireland's most accomplished trainers – with a string of big race successes to his name – before tragedy struck.

He was found slumped unconscious in the bathroom on Christmas Day, 1998. Doctors prepared his family for the worst. The outlook could not have been bleaker.

They had not, however, counted on Stack's battling qualities as a jockey – and his inner strength.

"It's a great lesson for everyone – never give up," said West Witton trainer Ferdy Murphy.

"If you keep trying, there will be light at the end of the rainbow. Tommy proved that.

"What's more, he's one of the most genuine fellas in racing. If there's one person you want on your side, it's Tommy Stack."

Like Sir Peter O'Sullevan, Murphy attributes the Stack comeback to great organisation, exceptional communication – and a hugely supportive team.

When he visited Stack's Thomastown Castle Stud in County Tipperary, Murphy says he was struck by the sheer professionalism of the set-up and how smoothly it operated.

Indeed the Stack operation is so highly respected that Jamie Piggott, the 14-year-old son of Lester Piggott, flat racing's greatest exponent, spent the summer at the stables honing his skills.

Yet Stack junior has revealed that his father has taught himself to lip read so that he can understand the feedback from owners and trainers.

"That said, he probably knows what they're going to say anyway from his own experience," he said.

"No, it's not a problem for us at all. We have our routine – and we just get on with it. It hasn't stopped us having any winners, has it?

"It's just one more obstacle to overcome."

Fresh-faced, Stack junior will always be found by the side of his father, his hair now grey, in the paddock prior to each race.

Father and son have shared many major triumphs. But none would come any bigger than the Ladbrokes St Leger where Unsung Heroine, unbeaten in two starts, is a 10-1 fancy.

The filly, a bargain buy at 5,000 guineas, has recovered from a chronic joint injury which came within a whisker of ending her career.

"She's lucky to be racing – and Dad's lucky to be alive," added Stack junior.

"It will be some story if Unsung Heroine does win; probably right up there with Red Rum.

"The injury was messy. She trod on the joint. We're hopeful for Doncaster – but she'll have to improve again to win. If we don't, there's always the next day."

This philosophy encapsulates Tommy Stack's approach to life. He's used to taking the ups with the downs.

It also explains why this modest hero savoured every moment when Red Rum appeared inside a Southport hotel on the night of his third National triumph, bedecked in his blue winner's garland.

The horse trotted up the red carpet so effortlessly – and then stood, ears pricked, in the bar – that Stack remarked: "He is a different being".

It is a choice of words that applies to Stack, irrespective of the St Leger result.

For, in a sport renowned for its bravery, few continue to be as courageous as Tommy Stack – the iron man of racing.