The wonder horse
Every so often a sportsman comes along of such supreme brilliance you can only watch and admire. Ian Botham was one — he could shut down offices when he went out to bat; so was George Best for a few wondrous years; Pele too; Roger Federer in his golden years when no one could come near him; Borg as well, cold and mysterious; Usain Bolt, who can destroy the best sprinters in the world in a few metres. Bradman by all accounts. They are sportsmen who can’t be explained in any normal way.
Now we have one more great athlete, though this time with four legs. If you haven’t seen Master Minded, the six-year-old French-bred bay gelding trained by National Hunt maestro Paul Nicholls, then you’re missing one of the wonders of the world. You can see him next at Newbury on 7 February. It will be his last outing before the Queen Mother Champion Chase at Cheltenham. He blitzed the Queen Mum last year in a way that left you open-mouthed: this season he has walked the Tingle Creek at Kempton and last weekend the Victor Chandler chase at Ascot. He wasn’t even off the bridle as Ruby Walsh slowed him up over the line with a 16-length lead. He’s a two-mile chaser, which in racing terms is like a sprint. And just like Usain Bolt in Beijing, Master Minded had the race won at more or less halfway. It is quite mind-boggling.
His races are not thrilling, like back in the day when Moscow Flyer, Well Chief and Azertyuiop fought out lung-busting, vein-swelling finishes to the line. Master Minded races against daylight. Nothing comes close to him. He can leap over fences ‘like an aeroplane’, as Ruby put it, or he can punch them economically. He has huge heart and enthusiasm, and he’s like that in training too. Nicholls says he is the best horse he will probably ever train. And that’s extraordinary too: this time last year racing folk were arguing about which of two Nicholls horses, the great staying chasers Kauto Star and Denman, were the best in the land. Now it turns out they weren’t even the best in the stable.
He’s not the best betting proposition of course: Paddy Power have stolen a good PR march on their rivals by offering to pay out already on next month’s Queen Mum, though I guess their liability might not have been too high. He’s 3–1 on for that; and he won the Victor Chandler at 4–1 on. But that means £400 will have won you £100 in the four-odd minutes it took Master Minded to destroy the field.
Such strength exacts its toll. Master Minded won’t rule his world for ever, and a sprained tendon out on the gallops could be the end. So catch him while you can.
It’s not exactly the done thing at the moment to side against Barack Obama. But on Super Bowl Sunday, the President’s men must lose. You see, with no Hawaii franchise to whoop for, Potus is a Steelers man. And the Steelers coach, Mike Tomlin, is in all likelihood going to become the youngest ever black coach to win the Super Bowl. So, Barack wants it. History wants it. But I’m asking all neutrals to crack a beer for the Arizona Cardinals. They’ve been hopeless for most of their long and not-so-proud history. Even New York Times headlines are mocking their new-found form (‘It’s No Mirage, the Cardinals Actually Won’). They’re led by 37-year-old former shelf-stacker Kurt Warner, who was only ever meant to be the second-choice quarterback. And you’ve got to love a man mountain whose post-victory blub is as earth-trembling as 18-stone Terrelle Smith’s after Sunday’s spectacular win. They’re the ultimate underdogs having their day. Besides, Obama won’t mind. I’ll bet the White House chef does a mean chicken wing.
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