The turf
I should have listened
Robin Oakley
There was, at a conservative estimate, more than £30 million-worth of horseflesh parading under the Ascot limes and chest- nuts before this year's King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Diamond Stakes. The eight runners had won more than £8 mil- lion and 32 Group races between them and it was as if they knew it. These were no skittering two-year-olds, rolling their eyes and flaring their nostrils at every umbrella- raising. Apart from the impressive chestnut three-year-old Kingfisher Mill, these were seasoned travellers — well-muscled, mature athletes of four, five and six — who knew they were there to do a job. Michael Stoute's Pilsudski, Breeder's Cup winner in Canada, conqueror of Bosra Sham, went past, deep through the middle, bursting with power behind the saddle. There was Stoute's beautifully proportioned Singspiel, too, winner of the Japan Cup and the Dubai World Cup as well as this year's Coronation Cup at Epsom. There was the dignified swagger of the great French Arc winner Helissio, arching his neck proudly, having trifled with his rivals in this year's Prix Ganay and Grand Prix de St Cloud, even if the white 'socks' on his back legs are worn at Nobby Stiles level. With the big three in contention this was the one-and-a-half-mile championship of Europe, heralded in prospect as the race of the year, if not the race of the decade. And with Cash Asmussen on Helissio, Mick Kinane on Pilsudski and Frankie Dettori on Singspiel there was as much quality above their saddles as beneath them. Never mind which of the big three was going to win: in previous encounters Pilsudski had beaten Singspiel, Singspiel had beaten Helissio, Helissio had beaten Pilsudski .. . just stand back and watch which of them turned out to be supreme this time. That is what I did, ignoring the voices which had been nagging at me all week from much more experienced punters insisting that the each-way value in the race was the consis- tent Swain. Beautifully ridden by John Reid, who was handy with the leaders all the way, kicked on more than two furlongs out and kept enough in the tank to repel the final thrust from the powerful Pilsudski, who strained every muscle in his great frame to get to the leader's saddle but could find no more in the final 100 yards, Swain rewrote the script in Ascot's rain-soaked turf. He stayed the longest and proved a worthy winner of a fairly run race with no hard- luck stories. On the softened going it was a story of bravery by horse and rider against the best in Europe. John Reid, one trainer told me in the unsaddling enclosure, is one of the bravest and strongest riders with the Old Berks Hunt. 'He can kick for three fur- longs if he has to', and it took real guts and physical stamina to ride the race he did.
But, if there were specially sentimental cheers for one of the most popular men in the weighing room as John Reid MBE received his trophy from the Queen, there was real warmth in the applause, too, for Godolphin's trainer Saeed bin Suroor, who has had to face the knockers this season, and for the sporting owner Sheikh Mohammed, who was responsible for four of the eight runners. Let us not forget the courage shown by him, by Helissio's owner Enrico Sarasola, by Pilsudski's owner Lord Weinstock, by Strategic Choice's owner Martin Arbib and by Lord Howard de Walden, the only owner of a three-year-old prepared to take on his elders with the promising Kingfisher Mill.
Every time you run horses of this quality you are putting at risk their stud value and so few good horses are kept running at four and five these days to contest these top-line events. Score any kind of success at two and three these days, however flukey, and most owners wrap up their animals and rush them off to concentrate on their sex lives instead of proving themselves in the real heat of battle with mature and sea- soned rivals. But the Singspiels and Pilsud- skis who will be remembered long after many a flash in the pan Classic winner and as De Beers and Ascot proved on Saturday with their big race, those are the horses which will bring the crowds to the race- course.
Big days, of course, bring all sorts to the races, like the lady at Ascot who appeared to have made her dress out of bathroom lace curtains designed to give the neigh- bours a sporting time and another whom I heard exclaiming as she passed one of the trade stands, 'Big Boys' Toys — sounds just like me.' You also encounter those once a year racegoers like the charming lady at lunch who asked me to mark her card. I did so with the usual trade warnings only to hear that she had been heard complaining loudly after the fifth race that The Specta- tor's so-called turf correspondent couldn't tip the manure out a barrow. In those first five races, I had had one unplaced selec- tion and the others had each finished sec- ond, beaten respectively by half a length, a neck, one length and two-and-a-half lengths. By my standards, a reasonable run for your money, but clearly not by hers.
There are two crucial differences between regular racegoers and the occa- sionals. For regular racegoers there is never enough time between races for all the things you need to do, like watching them in the parade ring, checking the bet- ting market, seeing how they go down to the start. The occasionals can't understand why races are not run every ten minutes. And the other difference is that those who know nothing about racing always imagine that those who know something about it know a great deal more than they do . . .
Robin Oakley is political editor of the BBC.
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