The Greatest Race Of All Time.
Printed From: Thoroughbred Village
Category: Horse Racing - Public Forums
Forum Name: Historical
Forum Description: For the history buffs
URL: https://forum.thoroughbredvillage.com.au/forum_posts.asp?TID=68811
Printed Date: 19 Apr 2024 at 7:28am Software Version: Web Wiz Forums 12.05 - http://www.webwizforums.com
Topic: The Greatest Race Of All Time.
Posted By: djebel
Subject: The Greatest Race Of All Time.
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 1:23pm
The Racing Post asked ten big racing names to write about what they
think is the greatest race of all time, before putting their choices to a
public vote.
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Replies:
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 1:27pm
In part one of the series, Brough Scott nominates Arkle v Mill House in the 1964 Cheltenham Gold Cup.
The day remains like no other. For it is what happened before as much
as afterwards that still sets Arkle and Mill House's 1964 Gold Cup in a
special category of racing heaven.
Never before, and certainly never since, have two such heralded
champions come together for so anticipated a showdown. But while it was
the start of Arkle's superstardom, it's easy to forget how much Mill
House had been hailed as a second Pegasus. Why, hadn't he already put
Arkle in his place four months earlier in the Hennessy?
"For us," wrote John Lawrence (Lord Oaksey) the next day, "he was
what Shakespeare must have been to the Elizabethans on the first night
of Hamlet, what Garbo was on the screen, Fonteyn on the Covent Garden
stage, Caruso at La Scala, Matthews at Wembley, Bradman at the Oval."
Okay, John was dipping his pen in purple, but he himself had won the
first Hennessy Gold Cup five years earlier, was the greatest racing
writer of his or any era, and was only colouring what most of us were
thinking.
For the sight of Mill House in full sail was something to wonder. He
was big, black and handsome with a vivid white star on his forehead. He
could look almost heavy in the paddock but out on the track he skipped
over fences as if he had wings. Arkle's rider Pat Taaffe knew all about
him for when Mill House moved to Fulke Walwyn he wrote to Willie
Robinson, the stable jockey, to say that he would be riding "the best
horse in Britain – and possibly in the world". And Pat would know because he had jumped gates and walls on Mill
House out hunting as a three-year-old before the horse went into
training with Pat's father Tom, and Pat had been on board when Mill
House won his first hurdle race the following March.
However, the early road to glory was anything but smooth. Bought
during the summer by the over-enthusiastic Bill Gollings, sent to Syd
Dale in Epsom, and ridden by the wholly unsuitable Ron Harrison, Mill
House turned over at the first hurdle on his British debut, was pitched
in against the Champion Hurdle winner on his second, landed a coup at
Wincanton on his third and then, as a huge but inexperienced
five-year-old, was sent out over fences where he and pea-on-a-drum Ron
duly crashed out at the sixth.
Two months later the drums were still beating but heads were all
shaking when Mill House reappeared at Cheltenham. This time he was to be
in the strong, skilled and fearless hands of Tim Brookshaw. It was the
day of my first ride on the track (if you must ask, Arcticeelagh and I
finished third to Fred Winter!) and I remember watching awestruck as Tim
pulled on the colours (sweaters, not silks, in those days) and went out
to ride this errant monster with the same undaunted laugh with which he
later faced his years of disablement.
Concerns over Mill House's jumping were immediately justified as he
rooted through the first two fences with all the signs of a horse with
confidence shot. Brookshaw was most famous for his implacable and now
unacceptable force, especially at the last where his special trick was
to get the whip going on take-off, mid-air and landing, but that day at
Cheltenham was a schooling masterclass. Taking Mill House away from the
others, he let him gradually regain belief, did not rejoin the field
until the third-last, and then romped home so easily that we now shook
heads not in worry but in wonder.
From there the legend only grew. During that summer of 1962 Mill
House was moved to Fulke Walwyn in Lambourn, the finest trainer
in Britain who had just won his second Gold Cup with the famous
Mandarin. Soon there were rumours that Fulke, as well as Willie
Robinson, was beginning to think that Pat Taaffe's letter was not too
far-fetched and the joy of watching Mill House that winter, culminating
in a spring-heeled, confidence-brimming return to Cheltenham for the
Gold Cup, stays with us spectators still.
It was this dream that we carried into the Hennessy of 1963, Mill
House's first run of the season. He was just six years old. He had it
all before him. He was the galactico for which every fan always craves
and yet we, and especially I, should have realised that there were
already two Gods in that pantheon.
I remember exactly where I was when I first saw the other one,
standing by the last for the Honeybourne Novices' Chase on Saturday,
November 17, Arkle's first race over fences. I was a 19-year-old amateur
already seriously affected by the racing bug and had no defence against
the image in front of me.
We had been warned that the Irish thought this lean, greyhound-like,
long-eared thing was a bit special, and what happened at the finish was a
bit special. There were decent horses against him, but Arkle just
skipped the fence and sprinted 20 lengths clear as if he were another
species. Perhaps he was.
But despite that, despite the devastating display he put up at the
Cheltenham Festival in winning the Broadway Chase (today's Brown
Advisory) two days before Mill House's Gold Cup and three subsequent
wins before the Hennessy showdown, we were still not convinced. And
neither, to be fair, was the handicapper. That's why Mill House was set
to give Arkle 5lb at Newbury and when he beat him eight lengths into
third place we all assumed our smugness was justified.
Sure, some of the Irish were saying that Arkle had slipped badly
three out, but it was one of those damp, soggy November days, none of us
saw it and, anyway, they would say that, wouldn't they. Sure, Arkle had
been amazing giving away a couple of stone at Leopardstown and Gowran
Park, but Mill House had reminded us of his majesty in the King George
and the Gainsborough. This was the best horse that Fulke Walwyn had ever
trained. John Oaksey had a whole pot of ink at the ready. Gold Cup day was cold enough for snow showers but there was a trace
of wintry sun by Gold Cup time. It was only a four-runner field, but
King's Nephew and Pas Seul were pretty good actors for supporting roles.
High in the stand, my excitement was doubled as I was changed to ride
in the Cathcart at the end of the card.
For a circuit and a half nothing dampened the thought that Mill House
was about to give Cheltenham a Gold Cup for the ages. He was regal
while Arkle was rank. Ears pricked, white star gleaming, he sailed
serenely ahead while Arkle was yawing at the bit with Pat Taaffe at
times bolt upright like someone on the losing team of a tug of war.
As they came down the hill towards the ninth, it looked so bad that
Peter O'Sullevan said in commentary, "Pat's not having a very happy ride
on him at the moment," a remark immediately compounded by Arkle
clouting the fence not far above the guard rail.
It was not until they ran up the hill for the final time, the tempo
increasing, the others dropped, that Arkle was at the very least a real
contender. But it takes a lot to shift a cloak of greatness. Even when
Willie Robinson's whip came up as Arkle joined him on the final turn, we
believed Mill House would find something to put this usurper away.
Arkle jumped a length ahead at the last, but Mill House landed slightly
the better and for a moment it looked as if he was closing.
Then he wasn't. He battled on to the line but at the post Arkle was
five lengths to the good. There could be no excuses. Mill House galloped
on for five more seasons and five gallant victories, including a
Whitbread Gold Cup so redolent of lost horizons that grown men cried.
But Arkle crushed him in the Hennessy, dismissed him in the Gold Cup,
and finally gave him 16lb and a 25-length thrashing at Sandown. The
dream had died. The measure of Arkle's greatness is what he had to overcome that
snowy March day in 1964. He brought with him the yearnings of a still
struggling nation wanting a champion to call their own and to put it up
to their often supercilious bigger neighbour. Arkle delivered all that
and more, even enhancing his immortality by the poignancy of his final
career-ending defeat.
He did quite wonderful things. He is high in the sporting Valhalla,
but the day he first got there was made by the big, white-starred wonder
he had to put away. There never was and never will be a race to match
it.
'I'd had a month's wages on'
Arkle's groom Johnny Lumley, speaking in 2005, recalls the occasion
I remember the overwhelming tension. It started to build
from the moment I arrived at Arkle's box at 8am. From then on, every
minute to the race dragged like an hour. After months – it really was
months – of banter between the Irish and British, this was crunch time.
Pat Taaffe had convinced me we'd win. I'd had a month's
wages on, about £40, at 15-8. But this wasn't a money thing. It was
about pride. In the Railway Hotel the night before, a chap of about 16st
insisted that even if he rode Mill House they'd beat Arkle. It was a bitter day with flurries of snow and I was
shaking, possibly due more to nerves than the cold, as I prepared Arkle
for the race. I fussed over him. He had to look at his best. As I led
him up in the paddock, Pat again insisted we'd win.
The course had a different configuration then, and the best
place for the groom to watch was down at the final fence. Mill House
made the running, tracked by Arkle. Three fences out I saw Willie
Robinson go for his whip. My confidence soared. From that point our
horse was always travelling the better.
As I led him in, the Irish went crazy with joy. Hats were
flying in the air and people didn't bother about catching them. I was
walking across a carpet of trilbies. That night I went back to the
Railway Hotel – is it there still? – to celebrate. Unfortunately, most
of the British who'd been staying there had made their way home. I
didn't bother going to bed that night.
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 1:29pm
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 9:08pm
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: Carioca
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 10:10pm
No horse gave me such an exhilarating feeling in the run , then left me so flat at the finish , during my time at Des Judds he was a gangely 4y/o just learning his trade , wonderfull memories .
|
Posted By: oneonesit
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 10:20pm
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyDmPYoC-0A%20" rel="nofollow - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyDmPYoC-0A
------------- Refer ALP Election Promises
|
Posted By: oneonesit
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 10:25pm
Rough Habit 92 Stradbroke - what a sprint
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFhfmgddFVk" rel="nofollow - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFhfmgddFVk
------------- Refer ALP Election Promises
|
Posted By: oneonesit
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 10:44pm
Mount Edens 71 Miracle Mile has to be the most freakish. Gave them 100m start & won by 20m
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-EW0gUeWkNM" rel="nofollow - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-EW0gUeWkNM
------------- Refer ALP Election Promises
|
Posted By: Carioca
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 10:49pm
During the early 60s a battleing Melbourne jockey decided to try his luck in Sydney , he was told to introduce yourself to racecaller Ken Howard , " he will see you right " he did , and Ken got him settled in a flat close to the Randwick course ( Ken lived in Doncaster Ave ) got on the phone to get him rides , didn't take long for this jock from struggle street to be up and flying , Ken on the airwaves calling him " the king of swish " and Mr Wippy because of his flourishing whip action , anyhow he win three Epsoms and a Doncaster but during the process went to Ireland for a " look see " as there was talk of a contract , while there he got quite familiar with Arkle riding him work , a contract never eventuates so he comes back home and is interviewed one morning at the track regarding his trip and the horses he rode , and stated the best horse he Ever ridden in his life was Arkle , no doubt he would have won the MC ! said he , Des Lake , wins Doncaster on Time and Tide , Epsoms on Toi Port , Cabochon and Ricochet , I think later he fell on hard times , that's racing .
|
Posted By: VSP.
Date Posted: 21 Jun 2022 at 11:41pm
Some of those jumpers were just freakish. I also loved NZer Belle Flight, what a great horse he was. He was virtually a fence in front the day he crashed and was killed. Spectacular racehorse.
------------- www.snowshoecats.webs.com
|
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 22 Jun 2022 at 12:25pm
oneonesit wrote:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyDmPYoC-0A%20" rel="nofollow - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyDmPYoC-0A
|
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 22 Jun 2022 at 12:30pm
oneonesit wrote:
Rough Habit 92 Stradbroke - what a sprint
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFhfmgddFVk" rel="nofollow - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFhfmgddFVk |
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 22 Jun 2022 at 12:34pm
djebel wrote:
|
'He might not have won - but 1973 will always be remembered as Crisp's National'
The Greatest Ever Race
RICHARD HOILES
The Grand National. The world's greatest steeplechase. The race where
once-a-year punters dine out on their ability to select a winner which
will remain etched in their memory for generations.
It will not take long in those reminiscences for the name Red Rum to
crop up. The greatest Grand National horse of all time, trained behind a
used car showroom and galloped on Southport beach by a trainer who
moonlighted as a taxi driver to make ends meet. By the end of Rummy's
Aintree exploits he would open betting shops and even appear on BBC
Sports Personality of the Year, such was his celebrity status.
Yet when chat turns to the first of those victories in 1973, it is a
race that is referred to not by his name but by the horse he narrowly
beat that day. 1973 will always be remembered as Crisp's National.
Red Rum and Crisp lined up as joint-favourites for the race that day,
yet the fact they ever met at all was remarkable in itself as they
started worlds apart. Red Rum's career was entwined with Aintree, from
the day he made his debut as a two-year-old at the track in a seller to
his death and burial by the side of the winning post. That juvenile
debut (it was a mixed meeting in those days) was made just 24 hours
before Foinavon's dramatic 1967 National victory and resulted in him
sharing a dead-heat. He ran on National day itself a year later under
Lester Piggott, in the year big-race winner Red Alligator was partnered
by Brian Fletcher, the man who would ride Red Rum in the 1973 National.
Red Rum would run in five Nationals, winning three and finishing
second twice. His third victory at the age of 12 was immortalised by the
words of Sir Peter O'Sullevan: "It's hats off and a tremendous
reception, you've never heard one like it at Liverpool – Red Rum wins
the National."
By contrast, Crisp started out life in Australia. Having soon
accounted easily for all the opposition that could be mustered, his
owner Sir Chester Manifold set his sights on England and the Cheltenham
Gold Cup.
When Crisp arrived at the Uplands stable of leading trainer Fred
Winter, the first thing most who were in the yard at the time remember
was his size – big, strong and imposing and certainly looking the part.
The second was that he was almost impossible to clip, so his winter coat
soon took hold to an alarmingly shaggy degree as he seemed impervious
to any sedation to enable anyone with clippers anywhere near him.
The rules in those days stated that any horse coming in from abroad
would automatically carry top weight to allow the handicapper a chance
to assess their merits without being made to look foolish. Crisp duly
carried top weight of 12st 7lb on his debut at Wincanton, where he went
clear on the final circuit to win in impressive fashion.
For a big horse he had great rhythm, agility and speed. He began
taking apart track records and breaking rivals' hearts with his
front-running, bold-jumping style, and at the 1971 Cheltenham Festival
he landed the Queen Mother Champion Chase in comprehensive fashion.
Crisp's attempts to realise his owner's Gold Cup dream, however, went
far less smoothly. Up in trip, Crisp refused to settle and then, denied
his customary front-running role, seemed to either lose the spark, fail
to stay, or both.
No doubt eyebrows were therefore raised when he appeared in the
entries for the 1973 National, where his high-class exploits earned him
top weight of 12st, as opposed to the less-exposed Red Rum who was
allocated just 10st 5lb. Having decided it was pointless trying to
restrain and hence disappoint Crisp, the idea was for jockey Richard
Pitman to allow Crisp his head initially but then try to settle him in
front to preserve the crucial grains of energy needing to last the four
and a half miles. When the tapes rose, Crisp was right up with the leaders when he
uncharacteristically pecked at the first. Far from being put off by the
error, he seemed to relish this new challenge of the then fearsome
obstacles. Pitman had decided his mount's jumping was such an asset that
he would go up the inner, a route that with such big drops even angels
declined to tread. It was also the shortest route, thus again maximising
the chances of his mount lasting home.
Crisp was certainly happier out in front, but it soon became apparent
that such was his enthusiasm any attempt at restraint was hopeless. He
devoured the fences, leading from Grey Sombrero at a furious pace. When
Grey Sombrero came down at the Chair, Crisp was left at least 15 lengths
clear, and the lead was growing.
By Becher's on the final circuit, Crisp was out on his
own. Pitman references the silence at this part of the race. There were
no sounds of pursuers, no crashing of birch and fir, just an eerie
quiet. So serene was it that the jockey could hear snippets of the
commentary and, as they took Becher's, the voice of Michael O'Hehir over
the racecourse speakers declaring that Red Rum was breaking clear of
the pack behind. The signature fences came and went, the Canal Turn and Valentine's,
where David Nicholson, who had pulled up there a circuit before,
shouted, "Kick on, you'll win." In truth, kicking on was the last thing
on Pitman's mind; holding his mount together to conserve as much energy
as possible was his growing concern.
Still there was no crack in Crisp's accurate jumping. Red Rum had
himself now completely gone clear of the rest, and the 1973 Grand
National was a duel. Watching it back even to this day, it remains
enthralling: Red Rum's metronomic crocodile tick-tock advance gradually
eroding Crisp's advantage – but surely still not quickly enough.
There is a long run between the third-last and second-last in the
National and, perhaps without a next fence to focus on, Crisp began to
tire ever so slightly. Pitman, for the first time, could hear a closing
rival, but despite his flagging stamina Crisp's jumping remained true.
And then it happened. The moment that still haunts Pitman, who
believes it cost him the race. After over four and a quarter miles of
perfect rhythm, one crucial moment of discord.
Crisp was out on his feet and Pitman decided to give him a reminder.
Yards from the sanctuary of the Elbow, where the left-hand running rail
can guide an exhausted horse home, Pitman gave Crisp a wake-up call, but
with his stick in the right hand. Crisp lugged left almost drunkenly,
rhythm interrupted and now off course for the upcoming Elbow. That
change of direction emptied Crisp and now Red Rum was closing fast. A
split second before the red and white flash of the winning line there
was instead a flash of maroon and yellow as Red Rum came by. Every time
you watch the race back you are struck how close Crisp came to lasting
home.
Red Rum stopped the clock a full 18 seconds faster than the great
Golden Miller's course record. Those behind hardly ever mentioned in the
race included L'Escargot, a dual Gold Cup winner and a horse who
himself would beat Red Rum in the 1975 National; Spanish Steps, winner
of the 1969 Hennessy and placed in a Gold Cup; and the controversially
disqualified Whitbread winner Proud Tarquin.
A field of true quality taken apart in a duel for the ages. For Red
Rum it marked the start of something special, but for Crisp it was
beginning of the end. He beat Red Rum in a level-weights match at
Doncaster the following season where speedier conditions were far more
in his favour, but he then suffered an injury and never raced again.
The 1973 Grand National. Crisp's National. The greatest race of all time.
'It was a stupid thing to do and I hold my hands up'
Crisp's jockey Richard Pitman recalls his agonising defeat
I have been at Aintree on Grand National day since 1967 when I rode
in Foinavon's race and have witnessed everything. There are so many
Nationals that do not resonate but it is amazing that this one does, and
it's the public who have kept it going.
I still get criticism to this day, but I don't care because everyone
is entitled to an opinion and I know what was said between Fred Winter
and myself before the race. We planned every single angle, and in the
end we decided we'd make the running and try to slow the race down in
order to try to get the trip with 12st.
I've said it before, but he was never running away with me. It's so
unusual for a horse to see fences like the ones in the National and
quicken into them from three or four strides away of their own volition,
but he did as if to say: "Bring it on!"
He did make a mistake at the first, but he was a natural. Despite
being a big, heavy horse, he never jumped high like a showjumper. He was
almost galloping before he hit the ground – his legs were looking for
the next stride and he wanted to get on with it. He was just a natural
enthusiast.
To go out on the second circuit so alone without any noise was a
marvellous moment. It was surreal, and I was loving it. I couldn't hear
another horse but I could distinctly hear Michael O'Hehir's commentary
going to Becher's saying, "Dick Pitman is 25 lengths clear of the pack,"
so I was quite aware of what was happening.
Crisp started to empty after the second-last and I could just start
to hear Red Rum's hoofbeats because it was fast ground, but I still had a
lead of 15 lengths or more.
You make lots of snap decisions and I think most of mine were
correct, but picking up my whip before the Elbow was a stupid thing to
do and I hold my hands up. I shouldn't have used the whip at all. He was so big and so heavy
that when you take your hand off one rein to give him a crack, you lose
him. He fell away from me and, if I had just sat and pushed him out to
the Elbow, then given him a crack when he had the running rail, fine,
but you can't change it.
It was so close to the line when Brian Fletcher and Red Rum passed
me. There was a feeling of desolation, but it soon turned to joy because
the ride he had given me was an experience of a lifetime. I
don't think about it now because there's nothing I can do about it, but
if someone brings it up I'm happy to speak and I can recall every step
of the way. Everyone has an opinion and it's incredible that we're still
talking about a race from 1973. LEWIS PORTEOUS
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: djebel
Date Posted: 22 Jun 2022 at 12:47pm
The Greatest Ever Race
RICHARD FORRISTAL
The Godolphin-Coolmore rivalry condensed into the most epic final-furlong battleAt the heart of this series is a nostalgic penchant for days of yore,
fuelled as it is by wistful recollections of seminal racecourse clashes
that grow rather than diminish in legend as the years go by.
Of course, we will always relish such
seismic jousts in the moment, but the concept's essence is to celebrate
the ones that endure far beyond. The inevitable upshot is that a
passage of time implicitly underpins the criteria, so the fact that most
people asked will go for races before the turn of the millennium maybe
isn't surprising.
From this remove, the timing and
context of Galileo and Fantastic Light's epic duel in the Irish Champion
Stakes at Leopardstown is intriguing because it took place three days
before one of the single most earth-shattering atrocities since World
War II.
On September 11, 2001, two commercial
airplanes were hijacked by Al Qaeda terrorists and flown into New York
City's World Trade Center twin towers, while another hit the Pentagon
near Washington and a fourth crashed in a field outside Pennsylvania.
Nearly 3,000 people perished. It constituted the end of innocence for
this generation because, all of a sudden, the vitriolic lexicon of
terrorism, suicide bombing and warfare contaminated the broader
consciousness on a global scale in a way that most of us hadn't
experienced before.
Galileo and Fantastic Light brought the curtain down on their
respective careers at Belmont Park weeks after the world turned upside
down. The New York track is situated just 12 miles from Ground Zero and
the Breeders' Cup was among the first major international sporting
events to live the new reality. Police dogs searched cars entering the
Belmont parking lot, soldiers armed with assault rifles were stationed
throughout and snipers were positioned on the grandstand rooftop. We
weren't in Kansas any more.
On reflection, then, the absorbing Leopardstown tussle between
Galileo and Fantastic Light fell just on the right side of the simpler
times watershed. It qualifies as a time worth harking back to, and the
micro-context surrounding the race was compelling.
Coolmore and Ballydoyle had already
been around for a long time, as had Sheikh Mohammed and his Darley
operation. However, Aidan O'Brien was in the infancy of his Flat career,
while the Godolphin entity was still forming its unassailable identity.
The previous year, Giant's Causeway and Dubai Millennium had carried
all before them, signalling the extent to which we were witnessing the
emergence of two rival behemoths.
Simultaneously, almost by stealth,
Fantastic Light was maturing into a popular globetrotting four-year-old
for trainer Saeed bin Suroor, finishing 2000 with Group 1 wins in
Belmont's Man o'War Stakes and the Hong Kong Cup under Frankie Dettori.
In between, O'Brien unleashed the
third progeny of Urban Sea, a gorgeous two-year-old son of Sadler's
Wells who bolted up by 14 lengths on his Leopardstown debut for Mick
Kinane.
Galileo went on to become the poster boy for O'Brien's rapidly
escalating ambitions. He arrived at Epsom on June 9, 2001, unbeaten
after three starts, and duly stamped his authority all over the
opposition to secure the bespectacled young trainer his first Derby. Sandwiched either side of that landmark Classic triumph were the
latest manifestations of Fantastic Light's arrival in the big time. Now
five years old, he squeezed home in the Tattersalls Gold Cup at the
Curragh before readily dispensing with Kalanisi in the Prince of Wales's
Stakes at Royal Ascot.
He was coming of age pretty
spectacularly, suddenly an irresistible force hurtling headlong towards
Galileo's immovable object in the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth
Diamond Stakes at Ascot. There, the Derby winner was sent off odds-on.
When he skipped away in the straight,
the outcome looked a formality, but then Dettori finally extricated
Fantastic Light from behind a wall of horses to challenge wide, possibly
even edging to the front a furlong out.
In response, Galileo did what we now
expect his progeny to do, knuckling down for a scrap before eventually
pulling two lengths clear. It was decisive, but not to the extent that
Sheikh Mohammed and his late brother Sheikh Hamdan Al Maktoum didn't see
enough to roll up for a rematch at Leopardstown. The day before the
Irish Champion Stakes, Dettori was summoned to Kildangan Stud and found
himself seated between both men. They had a plan.
"I was told I had to be in front of
Galileo through the race as that was the only way to beat him," Dettori
recalled later. "That was not my opinion. I felt the best way of riding
Fantastic Light was to come with a late run with something to aim at. I
explained that to them but lost the argument. I left the meeting
convinced they were making me do the wrong thing."
It all made for one of the great tactical contretemps of its era, one
that was very much of its time in O'Brien versus Bin Suroor and Kinane
versus Dettori but, in Coolmore and Darley, it epitomised the superpower
duopoly that would shape the next two decades. When the stalls opened at
Leopardstown, PJ Scallan let Ballydoyle's pacemaker Ice Dancer rip in
front. However, it was Godolphin's Give The Slip who played the most
vital role under Richard Hills, ignoring the tearaway leader and towing
Dettori into the race.
Kinane tracked Fantastic Light but,
dropped back in trip, it looked as though Galileo was at the pin of his
collar early on. His rider couldn't dictate the terms of engagement and,
by the time Galileo had found his equilibrium and loomed up turning in,
Dettori had first run. Hills opened the door and he slipped up his
inside. In a game of inches, Kinane had lost yards.
Still, Galileo found for pressure and
they eyeballed each other all the way up the straight. It was utterly
absorbing to witness. Racing the width of a cigarette paper apart,
Kinane coaxed Galileo alongside Fantastic Light inside the distance, but
Dettori's mount was brave. He stuck his neck out and his head down,
eking home by a head to settle the score.
It wasn't the result a majority in
Leopardstown's packed stands might have wished for, but the duel lifted
the roof off the Dublin venue. They lapped it up and both horses surfed
back in on a raucous wave of applause.
"When we crossed the line I was
mentally and physically exhausted," Dettori would reflect. "After
pulling up, Richard Hills came to me and asked if I had won. When I told
him I had, he asked me why I wasn't celebrating. I told him I was too
drained. "Afterwards, the reception both
horses got from the crowd was like they were both winners. That's what
made it for me. It was electric."
At the time, Kinane might not have
appreciated the magnificence of the spectacle. His currency was always
victory, although he later acknowledged the majesty of it all.
"The pacemaking jockeys are as important as the guys riding the number one strings," he would muse of the strategy.
"A pacemaker can allow you to play
your horse to his strengths and that's what Richard did for Frankie. He
ignored Ice Dancer and got Godolphin into a controlling position. He
made all the right moves and Frankie was able to slip through on his
inside. It meant I had a length to find, which I wouldn't otherwise have
needed to find. That could have been the difference between winning and
losing. They got the tactics right. We didn't."
Galileo's first defeat wasn't his
last. Desperate to crack the Breeders’ Cup Classic, O’Brien rolled the
big dice with him in Belmont the following month. He never landed
a blow as Tiznow shaded a vintage dust-up with Godolphin's Sakhee,
shortly after Fantastic Light had claimed another Ballydoyle scalp when
seeing off the St Leger hero Milan in the Turf.
Neither Galileo nor Fantastic Light graced the track again and, while
the Godolphin horse finished with the upper hand on the racecourse, we
all know who had the final say in the breeding shed.
Nonetheless, their enthralling on-track legacy stands for itself. In
short, what they conspired to serve up at both Ascot and Leopardstown
was a rivalry for the ages. Trust John Francome to capture it in a
nutshell on Channel 4 just after they crossed the line in the rematch.
"What a fabulous race," Francome cooed.
"Fantastic Light was in front of Galileo most of the way around and
you have got to hand it to Frankie Dettori, he has ridden this race to
absolute perfection. Plenty of people would have thought Galileo was
going to win in the straight, but this little horse just didn't know
when to give up. They are two fabulous horses. The race promised plenty
and it didn't disappoint."
'Everything worked out as we had planned it'
Saeed bin Suroor, Fantastic Light's trainer, on the stunning battle
Everybody seemed to want to see this race, between two great horses,
so it was an exciting time for everybody and everything went 100 per
cent perfect for us.
Fantastic Light was doing well before the race, working nicely and in
good condition, so everything was spot on, and we had Give The Slip in
the field to make a strong pace for us. He wasn't good enough to beat
the other two, but he was a Group 3 winner and with Richard Hills on
board he did exactly the job we needed him to.
Everything was carefully prepared. The team discussed beforehand how
we could win the race. We knew Galileo was a champion who would be hard
to beat. He had already beaten us over a mile and a half in the King
George, but we had a pull in the weights over two furlongs less so we
wanted to take him on from the start, and everything worked out
perfectly as we planned it.
The other pacemaker [Ice Dancer] went clear of everybody but Richard
was travelling well in behind and he was one of the best jockeys in the
country, so he knew what speed they were going, saw that the leader was
going too fast and he rode his race to suit our horse, leading the rest
of the field at a strong pace from the beginning.
As the leaders turned for home, there was room on the rail for
Fantastic Light to get through and in the last couple of furlongs you
saw an incredible challenge between two top horses, which was what
people watching all around the world were hoping for.
In the last half-furlong there was still not much between them, but
Fantastic Light put his head down and battled, and with two good jockeys
on our side we were just able to win. Frankie was a superstar, he's
still the best, and it was a great ride that made the crucial difference
between winning and losing.
That win made a lot of people very happy. Sheikh Mohammed and Sheikh
Maktoum were both there to see what was such an important meeting of two
champions, and people still remember it after 21 years. I think it was
one of the best races I've ever seen.
------------- reductio ad absurdum
|
Posted By: lenni77
Date Posted: 09 Sep 2022 at 1:24am
Posted By: VOYAGER
Date Posted: 02 Oct 2022 at 1:17am
These are great stories but what makes a race great?
Is it the lead in story?
Is it one horses individual performance?
Is it a heads up. heads down. ding dong, gladiatorial contest in the last 300m?
Is it when a champion horse or a people's champion who is looking long past their best and then standing up off the canvas one more time to show the younger generation just why the horse is so revered?
I always though Sunline, Johann Cruyff and Fairy King Prawn's race in Dubai was a rib tickling, spine chilling contest.
Probably not on everyone's list but Better Loosen Up's Japan Cup was a genuine edge of the seat race.
------------- Remember, it might take intelligence to be smart , but it takes experience to be wise
|
Posted By: AdaHunta
Date Posted: 02 Oct 2022 at 1:56am
“Is it when a champion horse or a people's champion who is looking long past their best and then standing up off the canvas one more time to show the younger generation just why the horse is so revered?”
Without doubt Kingston Towns 3rd Cox Plate best race caller of all time even thought he was GONE !!
I was there n I’ll never forget the roar of the crowd it was ELECTRIFING
Was only 8 years old n maybe a little biased because I just loved that horse those orange n red silks dripping from that jet black Ferrari duco !!
At his best in his prime the Sydney way of going Id back him against ANYTHING …
Another thing that makes a good race is a good race caller not these peanuts that over do it over think it
Bill Collins just called it as it unfolded
Bonecrusher’s Aust Cup was a ripper too mowing down a Melb Cup winner who was off n gone loved the call “ Stewart’s gone for the whip on Bonecrusher but At Talaq’s got 2L on him “ Bonecrusher’s gonna be everything we thought to get near him “
Pulled up battered n bruised after that n was never the same horse rival jockeys did everything they could to stop him winning that day
Ah man racing used to be incredible !!
|
Posted By: furious
Date Posted: 02 Oct 2022 at 11:13am
Yes Kingston has been the favourite from my early days. I still remember seeing him win the Spring Champion Stakes (early days) but I was on him even though the stablemate was by Planet Kingdom my favourite stallion at the time.And also remember Better Loosen Up's Japan cup and being on the edge of my seat. Then he floored it in the Australian Cup. I was so excited he was coming to Sydney only for him to break down. Pretty sure for the same reason the Australian cup with Lonhro getting into trouble but winning on the line.
Winx coming down the straight from last to just get past Foxplay in the Warwick Stakes was a pretty exciting race also and her Turnbull when she was trapped in on the fence with no where to go but still won by a length the checky girl.
Pretty sure its the do or die races I remember.
|
Posted By: ExceedAndExcel
Date Posted: 02 Oct 2022 at 12:04pm
VOYAGER wrote:
I always though Sunline, Johann Cruyff and Fairy King Prawn's race in Dubai was a rib tickling, spine chilling contest.
|
Jim And Tonic was the European horse in that 3 way go. Just watched it again and Sunline wasn’t beaten as far as I had remembered. Stuck on well to only go down half a length. Great go the other two.
|
Posted By: oneonesit
Date Posted: 02 Oct 2022 at 12:33pm
Maybe not the greatest single win amongst any of them - however Super Impose would have to get my vote as the greatest group of wins with 2 Doncaster & 2 Epsom's across 18 mths. Very tough handicap races & he wins 4 on end - all in magnificent style.
My favourite all time horse.
------------- Refer ALP Election Promises
|
|