The turf
A cry of pain
Robin Oakley
Try as I may, I still feel a little bit sorry for myself when the horse I have backed to win finishes second. Indeed, it happens so often that I probably feel a little sorry for myself more often than anyone since Eey- ore. But I might just be able to kick the habit following St Leger day at Doncaster and what happened to Sir Michael Stoute. The Newmarket trainer has won every Classic except the St Leger, and, when John Reid drove his Air Marshall into the lead in the last furlong of this year's final Classic, it looked as though he was going to collect the full set at last. Sadly for him, though, John Dunlop's Millenary was not to be denied. Rallied by Richard Quinn, who told us pithily after the contest, 'I come racing to win, not just for the plea- sure of sitting in a traffic jam,' Millenary stuck his head back in front, quickened again and had room to spare at the line.
Sir Michael took that in good part and then joined the hacks clustered around the press-room television to watch his Greek Dance take on the two hotshots, Giant's Causeway and Best Of The Bests, in the £486,000 Esat Digifone Irish Champion Stakes at Leopardstown. Like most con- tests involving Aidan O'Brien's incredible battler Giant's Causeway, it was one of the races of the season, a race that you would willingly travel continents to see. On Best of The Bests Frankie Dettori shadowed Giant's Causeway and took him on two fur- longs out. The pair burst clear of the field. But as Giant's Causeway beat off his rival and horse and rider recognised that he had done, so both Mick Kinane and Giant's Causeway began to relax. Suddenly, in what had obviously been the tactical plan, there was Michael Stoute's Greek Dance flying out of the pack and travelling twice as fast as the leading pair.
Giant's Causeway is a horse who loves to battle. Indeed, he probably needs to battle to show his best. The one way to beat a horse who has now, incredibly, won five Group One contests in the space of four months, may be to catch him unawares when it is too late for him to battle back. That is exactly what Johnny Murtagh and Greek Dance were trying to do. Had they succeeded it would have been the shock, and the ride, of the season. Whether it was because the leading pair had had too much pace for him early on or whether Murtagh was just a fraction late in launching his pur- suit, the flying pair just failed to catch Giant's Causeway before the line.
Beside me in the press room Sir Michael Stoute let out one huge, strangled shout that came from deep within his frame. It was part exultation at coming so close, part agony at failing so narrowly to bring off an amazing coup. It was wounded-stag-at-bay stuff, a cry all the way up from the vital organs that expressed the generic frustra- tion of trainers down the years at what might have been. And he was gone as soon as he had uttered it. Never again, I resolved, after witnessing such pain, would I whinge about my tenners lost by a short head.
Having already backed three seconds in four races, including Air Marshall, it was a resolve I made while secretly hoping I would not be tested too soon. Before the first race I had met Barry Hills, whose horses always seem to sparkle at Doncast- er, and learned that he expected both Sir Ferbet and Air Defence to give a good account of themselves. So in the next I plunged on Air Defence and watched him run a cracking race all the way to the line as the favourite Bound For Pleasure came at him in the final 50 yards. Having no time before my train to wait for the photo-finish result, I exulted all the way home over my 14-1 winner. Only to turn on Ceefax when I got home and learn that he had been beat- en a head. All I had was yet another second place. There was, I admit, just a small howl.
But never mind. It was a wonderful meeting. There is a real buzz about the Town Moor course on St Leger day. The stands were packed, and not just with rac- ing regulars but with lads and young ladies whose minimal clothing mostly indicated that their evening was not planned around an early cocoa and an improving book. There was an aerobatic display before rac- ing; you could get a drink at the bars with- out an interminable queue; and the racecourse officials were as helpful as any I have met anywhere.
There are suggestions from time to time that the St Leger is out of fashion, that it comes at the wrong time of year to encour- age people to go for the Guineas, Derby and St Leger Triple Crown and that breed- ers no longer want to produce one-mile, six-furlong horses. Ignore them. It was, `Let's go dubbin'.' once again, a cracking race won by a brave horse (and a lean and narrow one who will be even better as a four-year-old if his American owner Neil James can be per- suaded to keep him in training). Winning trainer John Dunlop declared, 'I am a great supporter. Long live the St Leger.' And I say amen to that.
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