I don’t just love jumping horses — I love the folk who train them and ride them and those who watch them doing it, too. Open the sports pages on Sunday or Monday and what do you get in the acres of newsprint devoted to football? A scowling Sir Alex Ferguson ranting that Manchester United have been cheated by a linesman, a petulant Arsène Wenger whingeing that Arsenal have been robbed by a referee, a glum Rafael Benitez blaming the pitch or the weather or a new brand of boot wax for Chelsea’s latest setback. The so-called supporters are even worse. There isn’t even a tribal loyalty any more. A setback or two and they will turn on their own players and jeer them off the pitch. Enjoyment seems an alien concept.
Contrast that with racing. There is no sport more obviously competitive than man and beast giving all together to hurl themselves first past the winning post. At Cheltenham, jump racing’s Mecca, Magic Kingdom and Valhalla rolled into one, the whole process is somehow magnified: the most absorbing tactical contests, the bravest teeth-grinding finishes, the most heart-warming comebacks. Cheltenham’s Festival Trials Day last Saturday gave us all of those. The losers didn’t grumble, the winners took it gracefully and everyone went home with a smile on their faces.
Sprinter Sacre’s victory in the Victor Chandler Chase was his seventh successive win and he never moved out of second gear. Afterwards, trainer Nicky Henderson conceded that his horse has now become public property, adding to the strain every time he runs. ‘He has got an aura about him, a presence that says, “Look At Me”, and we’re responsible for getting him to the Festival. That’s why we get buzzed up about him running.’ There was pride but a sense of awe, too, about the four-legged Ming Vase in his charge, and amid all the adulation Nicky made a point of praising the bookmaker sponsor, the Ascot racecourse where the race should have been run the week before and Cheltenham for their combined flexibility in restaging the race. ‘In the modern era, we’ve got into the way of doing these things.’ Sometimes progress does have
advantages…
Sprinter Sacre’s price was 1–5 and I don’t back horses at those odds. I looked instead for an interesting candidate to bracket with him in the forecast, and with a question mark over every contestant plumped for the 50–1 shot Mad Moose, trained by Nigel Twiston-Davies. Amazingly, I collected, but only thanks to Nigel’s jockey son Sam. Mad Moose had led much of the way and been passed by three horses before the second last. At that point, most riders would have accepted the situation and coasted home quietly. Instead, Sam kept his rhythm as his mount stayed on and passed two on the run-in. When I thanked him for his persistence it was heartfelt. The Tote paid over £59 for my £2.
Patient effort is a family trait. Since father Nigel won the 2010 Gold Cup with Imperial Commander, the horse has had endless leg problems and been off the racecourse for 680 days. Despite that, he had Imperial Commander fit enough to jump boldly for Paddy Brennan and lead over the last in the Argento Chase by three lengths. A glorious comeback looked certain to be sealed with victory as what seemed like the whole of Cheltenham rose to roaring tiptoe. But then, just 20 yards from the line, the Commander’s glory was snatched by the equally hard-driven Cape Tribulation, who won by half a length.
Having one of my rare good days, I had backed Malcolm Jefferson’s 7–1 shot but I, too, screamed Imperial Commander up the hill. The sporting crowd knew just what a training achievement his placing represented, and in the winner’s enclosure it was the second who received most of the attention. That was tough on Cape Tribulation’s connections, especially jockey Denis O’Regan, who had ridden the classic stalking race. He could only grin ruefully when I asked him afterwards how it felt to have shot Bambi; but they will be back for the Gold Cup in March with every hope of a place.
Nigel Twiston-Davies could not have been more sporting and positive in defeat and is looking forward now to running his old hero not just in the Gold Cup but perhaps in the Grand National too. But he would surely have wished that day that the Cheltenham winning post had been 50 yards back down the hill. He reckons his star juvenile hurdler The New One may be his best horse yet, but in the very next race, the Neptune Novices Hurdle, he again had the worst of a photo-finish when The New One, too, was caught on the line after leading over the last. Jockey son Sam immediately blamed himself for coming too early. He should not have done. The New One stayed on bravely. One thing made the difference. Sam is good but the jockey chasing him up the hill on At Fisher’s Cross to win ultimately by a neck was one Tony McCoy. And he is superb.
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