For all their formidable physical presence, racehorses spook easily. A sudden gust of wind flapping a plastic sack, a page from yesterday’s Racing Post blowing across the stable yard can provoke a fit of the twitches: eyes rolling, nostrils flaring and back legs snapping out a lethal kick. Trainers need a capacity for quiet reassurance and you don’t need long at Clive Cox’s Beechdown Farm in Lambourn to be struck by its overriding calm.
His charges had pounded up watered gallops dried by a breeze like a hairdryer and as Clive hosed down their sleek coats afterwards, he declared, sponge in hand, ‘This is the best part of the day, a proper de-stress.’ ‘Yes, they love it, don’t they?’ I replied — but he meant for him.
Tuning up four-legged athletes is stressful even with his experienced team. This year’s cold spring held back grass growth. The Lambourn poppies, normally in bloom by Royal Ascot, were a fortnight behind and the horses, too, had taken time. ‘You have to work with nature: only for the past two weeks have I felt that they were in full flow.’ But if anything stresses Clive Cox, it doesn’t show. As the string trotted around the spacious indoor school, part of the impressive premises rented from former champion jockey John Francome, the neatly shorn, hunch-shouldered trainer in his striped rugby shirt was the epitome of calm control. Every work rider was addressed by name, every one was given precise instructions for the work ahead: ‘Nothing fancy. I only want you to come through once. Just go upsides in the last two furlongs.’
Clive rode a respectable 100 winners over jumps and bears the usual scars. ‘There isn’t any part of my upper body that hasn’t been rearranged.’

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