Tag Archive for: Wilf Storey

Monday Musings: Remembering the Aga Khan

The news that H H the Aga Khan, head of the Nizari Ismaili Muslim sect, had died last week thrust me back more than 30 years, writes Tony Stafford. At the time I was scrabbling around trying to buy cheap horses, usually those that didn’t reach their reserves at the conclusion of the Tattersalls’ Horses in Training sale.

In those days, my targets were Cheveley Park Stud, usually well-bred fillies that didn’t measure up to their demanding requirements and would go privately for £500, or the Aga Khan detritus that it would be too costly to send back to either France or Ireland with nobody other than me wanting them. To be fair, the Cheveley Park ones were rarely much good!

I say detritus, but M. Drion, the Aga Khan’s manager, called them “boucher” (butcher) horses, so if I didn’t step in, they would be destined for the dinner tables of continental Europe. Once or twice, both targeted operations even gave them away.

While not a freebie, one such was Karaylar, a son of the Aga Khan’s Derby winner Kahyasi out of a mare by brilliant broodmare sire Habitat. He had been with John Oxx in Ireland, but the trainer of Sinndar, another Derby winner for the owner, hadn’t managed to get him on the track.

I spoke to His Highness by telephone having got the number from M. Drion. He agreed £500 and the cash was duly handed over. He called him a “boucher” horse, too!

At the time, I was regularly passing on my “finds” to Northumberland owner David Batey. In a few years he had done so well that he had a video made up of his “first” 25 winners. Most had cost buttons whereas only the last, bought from Brian Meehan as a 2yo at Doncaster sales for £14,000, was not my discovery. The winners had all been trained by my friend Wilf Storey.

I can only imagine the rage building up in the mercurial owner as 3yo Karaylar ran last of 11 first time on the flat and then, in the always well-populated novice hurdles in the north at the time, 16th of 20, 15th of 20 and, to finish the job, 19th of 21.

That brought him an initial mark of 64. Wilf and I always in our deliberations used to reckon on one run to confirm the rating and then go to work. Fourth in his first handicap, he then won a John Wade-sponsored selling handicap hurdle, at Sedgefield. That was a qualifier for the final also at Sedgefield on a Friday night early in May.

I can remember exactly where I watched it but have no idea where I had been earlier for me to be in that place. It was a betting shop in Bishop’s Stortford town centre. Karaylar started the 9/4 favourite and in a field of 16 won as he liked by five lengths under Richie McGrath, who had also been on him for the previous win.

What marked that race as special was its prize - £7,000, for a seller! Just a four-year-old, we thought Karaylar was going places – he did, rapidly downhill, never winning another race.

Mr Batey was also the beneficiary of another Wilf winner ridden by McGrath in his 7lb claiming days. That was Cheltenham Festival long-distance hurdle scorer Great Easeby, bought unraced for 2k from the owner-breeder Robert Sangster. A son of Caerleon, he was acquired in a very comfortable negotiation, sent to Wilf and won seven races between the flat and jumps.

Our association (not with Wilf) suddenly ended allegedly because the owner found out I had made a small profit on one of the deals. His success rate dropped almost to nothing once he stopped sending horses to Grange Farm, Muggleswick.

*

The Aga Khan was the third member of his family to make a massive impact on thoroughbred racing and, equally, breeding. His grandfather, also the Aga Khan, owned the famous flying filly Mumtaz Mahal in the 1920s and was prominent in racing until his death in 1957.

His son Prince Aly Khan kept the family horse racing business going, while at the same living a film star lifestyle,  especially when he married the actress Rita Hayworth. He died in a car crash, having already been passed over for the title of Aga Khan by his father who thought his son Prince Karim, as he was, would be a more suitable leader. For almost seven decades, he fulfilled the role with great skill and was reckoned as long ago as 2014 to having a fortune of $13 billion by Vanity Fair.

For racing fans, his green and red colours have been a constant even though he had refused to have them trained in the UK for a long time, relying on Ireland and France. He had countless champions in his time; for me, though, it’s always been Karaylar!

*

How frustrating that a week after the Dublin Racing Festival, one of the two biggest stars of the UK team shaping up to see off the Irish challenge at Cheltenham was unable to run in his warm-up race.

Sir Gino, flawless over hurdles, the latest time when deputising for the country’s number one, Constitution Hill, in the Fighting Fifth Hurdle and then spectacularly proficient first time over fences at Kempton over Christmas was the absentee. Many had travelled expecting to see him at Newbury, but a cut leg ruled him out of the Game Spirit Chase.

The Nicky Henderson horse was forced to miss the Triumph Hurdle at last year’s Festival and now will be going into the Arkle Challenge Trophy – if he gets there, that is – with only one run over fences behind him, unless Nicky sends him either to Kempton or Bangor as has been mooted.

Of course, waiting to pounce is Willie Mullins with his smart 5yo Majborough, winner of that Triumph Hurdle and unbeaten since in his two runs over fences. He looked last week in winning the Irish Arkle Novice Chase at Leopardstown that he still had a bit to learn about jumping fences. When Sir Gino won at Kempton, you could have thought you were watching a horse that had won ten races over fences, let alone had never run over them before. After all, it was Ballyburn that he was putting back in his box, a horse who all through last season and again at the Dublin Festival, looked like a future Gold Cup winner.

Henderson did have something to smile about on the Newbury card, the mare Joyeuse cantering away with the William Hill Handicap Hurdle and its £87k first prize in the colours of J P McManus. Only a 9/2 shot, the success was therefore expected in some parts but a glance at her earlier career did not present her with the most obvious of chances.

She won her only race in France, a 1m4f AQPS maiden as a 3yo by three parts of a length. The venue? Another of those French tracks where they probably mark out the rails the night before. For the record it was at Paray-le-Mondial, a track and indeed town I’d never heard of; but, in fairness, even those venues that race only once a year are always immaculately presented. Paray-le-Mondial is in the east of France, for the record, about 80 miles northnorthwest of Lyon.

The run was enough to secure a price of €235,000 soon after from the all-seeing McManus talent-scouting operation. Henderson took his time before sending her out for the first run from Lambourn, at Taunton in January last year and she won by half a length.

Two placed efforts in just over three weeks in November and December earned her an initial handicap rating of 123. The way she accelerated away – once favourite Secret Squirrel fell when still right in the argument at the last flight, suggested she wouldn’t have been far away off 143!

The McManus team from Ireland and the UK will be feared as usual next month but a quirk of the altered regulations for Cheltenham’s handicaps means Joyeuse is ineligible for any of them, and she isn’t a novice either. Aintree here she comes, no doubt.

 - TS

Moday Musings: For Age

It’s so difficult if you aren’t sure where to look, writes Tony Stafford. I’ve got a 2002 Directory Of the Turf and a few Horses In Training to help me and also the BHA web pages, but can I find a copy of the latest Weight For Age scale? No, I can’t. At which point, dozens of people – if that many read this, of course - will be jumping up and down and saying, here it is you idiot. [Here it is, you absolute gent - Ed.]

The nearest I got was to project forward two months to a race I know allows two-year-olds to compete with their elders. Of course, it’s the Coolmore Wootton Bassett Nunthorpe Stakes over five furlongs at York’s Ebor meeting.

Two-year-olds carry 8st 3lb and three-year-old have 9st 11lb. You’d think that would be more than enough for a juvenile to take advantage and beat his/her elders. The last two to do so were Lyric Fantasy (7st 8lb for Michael Roberts) in 1992 for the Richard Hannon senior stable, Lord Carnarvon’s filly beating stable-companion Mr Brooks and Lester Piggott by half a length.

The last male winner of the race was the John Best-trained and John Mayne-owned Kingsgate Native 19 years ago and I remember thinking him a good thing. He and Jimmy Quinn did the business that day and these are the only two since Ennis in 1956!

The WFA allusion is significant. If the scale requires a concession of 22lb by older horses to their juniors over five furlongs in August, then extending that to seven furlongs and going back even earlier into the season, to mid-June, surely must take the number past 30lb [it's 38lb from the start of July - Ed.].

On Saturday at Royal Ascot, the very high-class Haatem was shrewdly directed from the Group 1 company he had been keeping down to Group 3 for the Jersey Stakes for three-year-olds. The 2000 Guineas third, behind Notable Speech and Rosallion, his stable-mate and the only horse to beat him in the Irish 2000, left the St James’s Palace to that horse and dropped back a furlong.

He won, but was all out in a race where there were three in a line as they passed the post and the first ten were all at it hammer and tongs in the last 100 yards. Haatem recorded a time of 1 minute 26.85 seconds.

Two hours earlier, the opening race on day five, the Chesham Stakes, a seven-furlong Listed race for juveniles, threw up the most spectacular performance of the week. Here, Bedtime Story, a daughter of Frankel out of dual Nunthorpe winner (at age four and five) Mecca’s Angel, making her second start, was simply sensational.

Ryan Moore waited until just before the two-furlong pole before sending her into the lead and she sauntered further and further clear right to the line. The winning margin was nine and a half lengths, despite Ryan’s having no need to do more than keep time with her action.

Neither did he bother to correct the slight coming off a straight line in the last furlong, moving maybe three or four horse widths to the left. Her winning time? 1 minute 27.01 seconds, just one-sixth of a second slower than Haatem, carrying 6lb less. The fillies in the Jersey Stakes carried 5lb less than Haatem.

In form terms, Bedtime Story’s run was far in excess of Haatem’s once the scale is considered and was a reminder of the day last summer when the same Hannon horse saw the backside of City Of Troy in the Superlative Stakes.

He did get his revenge at Newmarket on City Of Troy’s baffling - even to Aidan O’Brien and Ryan Moore - run in the 2000 Guineas but it was back to normal as City Of Troy romped home in the Derby and also for much of last week for the Ballydoyle team.

Before the week started, Ryan had confided to a friend that Auguste Rodin, Opera Singer and Kyprios were his top three. Opera Singer hardly let the side down with second place in the Ribblesdale, but Auguste Rodin and Kyprios were both right back at their best. Judging how the former’s stylish success was celebrated by some of the visiting Australian contingent, his future, either on the track or in the breeding shed, might well be interesting.

My meeting began with one of those omissions that could easily have spoilt the whole five days. I stood in the paddock chatting to Sam Sangster and Brian Meehan as the juveniles for race two, the Coventry Stakes, waited to go into the stalls.

Brian had told me in the morning how he expected a big run from Rashabar, who was drawn on the far side, running in Sam’s Manton Thoroughbreds colours. Before the race it would have been guesswork as to which side would be favoured. As Rashabar detached himself from his group coming to the last furlong, you could see there were challengers aplenty on the near side.

They flashed over the line together but wide apart and it was by a nose that Rashabar prevailed with the next nine home all on the other flank. Eleventh home but second on his side was the Coolmore favourite Camille Pissarro, four lengths behind.

Brian Meehan has begun to specialise in 80/1 winners; he also had one, Monkey Island, at Newbury during York’s Dante meeting. The 80/1 here stretched to 129/1 on the Tote, of which I foolishly forgot to accommodate myself on the way down from the stands. Billy Loughnane, only 18, deserved all his glowing comments for an excellent ride.

Meehan also was successful later in the meeting in a Group 3 with the lightly-raced three-year-old Jayarebe, owned by Iraj Parvizi, back with the trainer after a longish gap. Brian won the Breeders’ Cup Turf for the owner with Dangerous Midge in 2010 at Churchill Downs.

It’s always nice to record successes by friends, but in the case of Wilf Storey it’s almost becoming an embarrassment. Probably last week or maybe the one before, I recounted the tale of Edgewater Drive and his win at Carlisle.

Last Monday, now faced by older horses and from a 7lb higher mark, the Dandy Man three-year-old gelding bolted up again under the much-underrated Paula Muir. I had mentioned the absurd disqualification of a recent winner of Paula’s at Wolverhampton, one which carried the added injustice of a two-day ban.

Paula learnt before Edgewater Drive’s race that the Wolverhampton disqualification had been overturned as had her ban. A double bubble for her.

On Saturday evening at Ayr, nicely sandwiching the entire Royal meeting, she and Wilf Storey were reunited with the seven-year-old Going Underground. Winner of just one of his 32 previous races and off through injury for a year until a recent comeback run, he came from miles back to win on the line. You rarely see that type of finishing speed in 0-50 Classifieds. If his old wheels can handle it – Going Underground not Wilf - he should win again.

Earlier this year, Paula was considering giving up and had been training for a future career as a dog groomer, but five wins in short time for Storey have no doubt helped change her mind. Much of the credit for the team withstanding owners wishing to replace her at several stages in the past have been met firmly by Wilf and granddaughter Siobhan Doolan, the assistant trainer.

As to the Storey story. My friend of almost exactly 40 years has run four individual horses on the flat this year – all picked up for a total of less than 20k at various Newmarket sales. Between them they have had ten runs in 2024 and won five of them. There can’t be many trainers, let alone this veteran, well into his 80’s, with a 50% strike-rate!

- TS

Monday Musings: Of God and the Alchemist!

Who is Celia? What is she? Or rather where is she? The one-time lady amateur rider and walk-on or pub-customer extra in Eastenders (and other TV series) played a massive part in my life, writes Tony Stafford. I’m sure she had/has no idea and even the Internet didn’t help me track her down. But Saturday relegated her to the second half of this two-in-one article. You’ll see why shortly.

Having made almost fanatically-extravagant judgment based on his two-year-old performances – the best two-year-old I’ve ever seen, I suggested – the abject failure of City Of Troy in the 2000 Guineas five weeks ago could surely only bring an early hasty rush off to stud. That would have been the normal obvious course of action.

But then his trainer is Aidan O’Brien. Never did he – outwardly, at least – question his horse, just himself for not putting in the required amount of tough work into a potential Classic winner in the weeks leading up to Newmarket.

So, they gathered at Epsom, for some reason suggesting the draw in stall one was a big disadvantage. Why? Didn’t Oath win from there in 1999, causing your correspondent and the Henry Cecil/ Thoroughbred Corporation horse’s groom to dance around in delight. We’d watched his win on the tiny TV screen on the jockeys’ room glass wall just behind the unsaddling circle that has been home to the greats: Nijinsky, Shergar and Galileo himself in 2001, the first of ten winners for Aidan and the Coolmore partners.

Only two of those came before Camelot in 2012, a ten-year gap for O’Brien from High Chaparral in the year after Galileo, but eight of the next 13 giving testimony, if any was needed, of the trainer’s uniqueness.

Two of the Coolmore ownership group also had a bonus win with Pour Moi in 2011, trained by Andre Fabre, putting Sue Magnier (the great Vincent’s daughter) and Michael Tabor ahead of the trainer as the winning-most pair in the race’s 240-year history.

By the time Aidan has finished, he will have set records never to be broken - of that I am sure - as by the time it could be possible, racing will be staged on AI tracks with AI horses - with no trainer or jockey in sight.

First the race. Ryan Moore on the only lightly-backed favourite (3/1 about a horse that was odds-on for the Guineas, “unbelievable”) as Jonno Mills of the Rabbah (Godolphin-lite) operation reflected afterwards, though not before – was allowed to start slowly.

In all his races – the three as a juvenile and the Guineas, he raced towards or at the front. Now, tackling another half-mile, he had to learn on the job, coming from behind as his stablemates Euphoric and the previously unbeaten Los Angeles set a strong pace.

He came down the hill nicely, switched inside early in the straight and had the speed to stride through gaps where an ordinary staying horse might have been less malleable.

Passing Los Angeles between the two and one-furlong poles, he was quickly clear and just needed to be kept going by Ryan (Derby number four for him) to remain almost three lengths ahead of the Bill Gredley/James Fanshawe Lingfield Derby Trial winner Ambiente Friendly.

Third was Los Angeles, six lengths in the end behind his stable-mate and then the two Ahmad Al Sheikh horses, one each for Andrew Balding and Owen Burrows. Sixth, having come from miles back but then looking like he didn't quite get home, was Roger Teal’s Dancing Gemini who must be a banker for a big prize in a Group 1 over ten furlongs.

Bill Gredley, at 91, had to have been hopeful as his colt came there cantering, but Ryan on his inside was always finding that little more speed. Still, it was great that Rab Havlin, parachuted in to replace his Lingfield rider Callum Shepherd, enjoyed such a wonderful ride in a Derby.

Havlin, so often the back-up to Frankie Dettori – did we miss him as he won a couple of races across the Atlantic? I think not - gave his mount an impeccable ride through. Rider was as flawless as his always flamboyant owner had looked resplendent in the paddock in the only bright red trousers on view. You’d probably have had to scour the well-patronised funfair areas on the inside of the track to find a pair to match them!

As I’ve mentioned before, Bill Gredley started life in Poplar, East London, not far from Michael Tabor’s birthplace in Forest Gate – Stratford coming in between. Joining Michael as ever, were his racecourse pals, all of whom he has known since the 1980’s at least, including Maurice Manasseh, even with him for the Florida Derby that Thunder Gulch achieved under 'Money' Mike Smith for D. Wayne Lukas in 1995, before adding the Kentucky Derby, Belmont and Travers later in the year.

Just two years later, having been (as ever, shrewdly as it turns out) identified by John Magnier as a potential partner as the old Robert Sangster/ Vincent O’Brien era at Ballydoyle/Coolmore was starting to unravel, the two-man ownership team won successive 2000 Guineas with Entrepreneur and King Of Kings. I’ll never forget the former as my eldest grandson was born at 3 a.m. the next morning less than an hour’s drive away.

The succession at Coolmore seems firmly in place. MV Magnier does most of the recruiting and brother JP also has plenty to say behind the scenes. John and Sue’s son-in-law David Wachman, a highly successful trainer before retiring as a younger man, is also in the back-up team. David’s young family are all outstanding in the field of equestrianism, so much so that Grandpa John prefers watching their exploits than some of even the biggest race days his horses contest.

Derrick Smith, delighted to be in attendance on Saturday, as he had been in Louisville when Sierra Leone gave the partners a close second on the same evening as the Guineas debacle, has son Paul and enthusiastic grandsons – all there on Saturday - to pass on the baton when the time comes, as it inevitably will.

Meanwhile, also on Saturday, I detected a new element to the possible Tabor succession.

Over the many years I’ve known him, I hasten to say, no more than to chat for the few minutes our paths would have crossed in various winner’s enclosures, Ashley Tabor-King has been almost distracted, enjoying his father’s success but more involved in developing his interest in the music industry. His mother Doreen is a noted supporter of emerging classical musicians, and while Ashley has been largely into pop music, the influence is clear.

Having successfully turned the Global Group, of which he is boss, into the biggest in commercial radio in the UK he has also overseen its many charitable contributions especially to younger disadvantaged people. Now, though, he seems to be taking rather more interest in the sport.

On Saturday, before the Dash, he was looking over the balcony through binoculars aiming to get the focus right, asking where was the start? I pointed back up the track and said: “You’re looking the true professional, can you give me a commentary?”

Then, around an hour later, when the owners were called to the podium to accept the most-desired trophy in UK - some may say, world  - racing, for all its modest value compared with many races elsewhere, Ashley and husband George took their places to the left of the group.

It’s been a joke between us that he might have considered himself a Jonah on the rare times he went to the big events. “You’re not a jinx, you’re a lucky mascot,” to which he replied, “I always thought I was a lucky omen. It was just MV and JP who joked otherwise!”

As he is such a great friend with all the people in the next generation, I’m predicting that this truly engaging man will find that learning about the game his father knows inside out might well appeal as a new challenge for him.

Now the form from last year with Haatem - City Of Troy twice beat him easily - is looking better after the places by Haatem in the 2000 and Irish 2000 Guineas. Rosellion, second at Newmarket, first in Ireland, and Notable Speech, unraced since his win in Newmarket for Charlie Appleby and Godolphin, will be contesting the big mile races. Neither Appleby nor Hannon stopped smiling as they called in on the Coolmore box after the big race – as with almost everyone around the winer’s circle as he came back in.

City of Troy in the Winners' Enclosure at Epsom after winning the 2024 Derby, attended by Ryan Moore and Tony Stafford (right)

City of Troy in the Winners' Enclosure at Epsom after winning the 2024 Derby, attended by Ryan Moore and Tony Stafford (right)

I watched the race just by the winning line – my friend and former Daily Telegraph colleague George Hill reminded me that was where we saw Reference Point’s big win for Henry Cecil – and it gave me plenty of time to get first into that famed circle.

Eventually, everyone crowded in, but somehow, I managed to get close to City Of Troy. Remembering when I went to Coolmore and met Galileo with Harry Taylor and Alan Newman a few years back, I’d stood with my hand on his near-side flank. Here I was able to do a similar thing with City of Troy. While Ryan was cuddling his neck, I pressed my hand gently on the other side. After the horse’s exertions, you might have expected an agitated animal - he was anything but. Whenever I’ve touched one of the horses I’d been involved with as a racing manager or owner in the past straight after a race I’d always come away with a wet hand.

Not on Saturday – it was bone dry, his body warm, but he stayed motionless as the photographers assailed him from the front. Racing finally is back page and television news for the right reasons. As for me, I will never forget that full minute when I touched greatness!

*

Back in the mid-80’s I somehow inveigled a horse for a cup of tea – and an equine replacement of him. He had been designed to be a riding horse, but thankfully, the intervention freed him from that dull fate, allowing him to resume his proper job as a racehorse.

Sent to Rod Simpson, he won a couple of races in the same week, at Folkestone and then Lingfield on a Saturday evening, before finishing fourth in the Lady Riders’ race at Ascot on King George Day. He hadn’t a prayer against some smart, developing three-year-olds from the likes of Barry Hills and Michael Stoute. Fourth then and a spot on the edge of the old Ascot winner’s enclosure was an achievement in the days the race wasn’t a handicap.

I’d been willing to sell before the winning spell started, and the fact that he might still be for sale persuaded Celia Radband to tell a couple of her lady rider friends – in those days quite a small community - about him

I was in the DT office one day when a call came in. "Mr Stafford?", asked Wilf Storey, "I understand you might want to sell Fiefdom", by now a five-year-old, who had been talented enough to finish fifth in the Cambridgeshire for Bruce Hobbs two years before.

He was just about the most polite person I’d ever heard, certainly in the hubbub of a sports room of a national newspaper in those days. He told me his daughters Fiona and Stella had been told by Ms Radband that he would make a lovely jumper. I hadn’t thought of that – his form when he initially started jumping was awful, but anyway.

I had to say, sorry no, adding if I changed my mind he would be my first call. Fiefdom ran well again at Ascot that autumn, after which I decided to call Wilf, offering him at 5k rather than the original 6k.

In the meantime, he’d taken another two of Rodney’s horses after one morning when they played up. I should have them shot, said a furious Rodney. I thought maybe Wilf, primarily a sheep farmer, would take them and the arrangement was duly done.

Within a couple of days, one of the two had indeed been moved on, having almost killed Chris Grant first day on the gallops; but the other one, Santopadre, was fine. These were two of a ten-horse deal I’d done with Malcolm Parrish, whom I first met at the Cashel Palace Hotel, close to Ballydoyle where he was with David O’Brien, who I’d arranged to visit.

David had recently won the Derby with Secreto, beating his father’s El Gran Senor in a massive upset which briefly threatened the stud deal that Sangster/O’Brien had already negotiated. Secreto missed the Irish Derby, El Gran Senor duly won, and the world moved on as imagined.

Also in that Parrish bunch was Brunico, later 2nd in that season’s Triumph Hurdle having been sent to Rod. Two runs later he won the Group 3 Ormonde Stakes at Chester for Terry Ramsden, beating top-class Shahrastani. Santopadre was offered around. I asked Wilf if he had anyone with two grand to buy him. Answer: “no!”

Oliver Grey rode him first time on his last day’s riding in the UK at Musselburgh before going to India. We thought him moderate, but Oliver gave him a tap around the home bend. “He flew,” he said, “so I put the stick down.”

So, the plan had to be three runs, achieved so his rating was a lowly 26 or so – they went down a lot further in those days!

Then, having told me, “Never mind the flat, I’ve never had a novice jump so well", I said there’s a weak race at Hexham coming up. He replied, “I’ve done nothing with him – you told me not to.” Despite his misgivings he won.

He won again in a fair claimer at Newcastle soon afterwards. Now, going from that company into an open juvenile novice with a 10lb penalty might have seemed a step too far, but he gave 15lb and a 15-length beating to Buck Up, a Peter Easterby filly that eventually finished runner-up in the Schweppes Gold Trophy.

Santopadre was fifth in the Triumph for Wilf, three places behind Brunico. His reward? To have him taken away to Simpson. Not by me, but Ramsden had paid many times the initial fee for him and did as he wished.

So to Fiefdom, with Santopadre already in the team. He arrived off the wagon and Wilf’s fears were unfounded. "He’s a great big beauty." He bolted up – well backed – first time at Sedgefield, running off a much lower jumps mark than his 71 on turf. In all he won three Ekbalco Hurdles at Newcastle for Wilf and ended his working days as a rider.

They were the start. In between, with younger daughter Stella doing most of the riding on the Muggleswick gallops, the winners kept flowing, the most important Great Easeby, a £2k purchase unraced from Robert Sangster. He won races all over the place, including the Pertemps Final at Cheltenham.

Another to come from Manton more recently was Card High. I’d watched him being completely outpaced as a juvenile in all his gallops for Brian Meehan and the decision was made between Ben and Guy Sangster, Robert’s sons, to get rid. I made sure I was standing nearby and when I heard the magic words, I was there. “I know someone!” – he won six and only retired last year.
Stella had to withdraw a year or so ago from the action after suffering many bad falls, but fortunately her sister Fiona’s daughter, Siobhan Doolan, was able to step in. I was watching the HIT sale last year and noticed that an Ollie Sangster two-year-old was unsold at 1,000 gns.

I checked with Ollie whether he had left the sale – he hadn’t, “but be quick!”

I was nowhere near, but old sales pal Richard Frisby came to the rescue and did the deal. The horse was called Edgewater Drive, a son of of Dandy Man. At first, the gelding, who had injured a foot before the sale, "could hardly walk up the gallop, never mind run", says Siobhan. Gradually, after several weeks’ careful handling, he was able to break out of a trot.

All that part was unknown to me as I tried to get ten shares sold at £100 each. With good friend Keven Howard trawling the pubs of mid-Essex, between us we must have asked 30 people and managed to sell not one share.

Siobhan got going. She had managed to syndicate the mare Shifter to the same people that had owned Card High – oil rig workers offshore in Scotland - and that mare won twice last year. Many of them eventually joined up as Edgewater Drive gradually came right.

Eighth in a decent mile race at Wetherby on his first run where not quite getting home, everyone was enthused when Shifter won another twice recently as Edgewater Drive had worked nicely behind her up the late Denys Smith’s gallop.

Expectations were bright, then, on Friday at Carlisle and, under a lovely ride from the underrated Paula Muir, Edgewater Drive sailed through a gap and won by almost two lengths. No City Of Troy, but at £100 a pop, pretty good value. If Aidan O’Brien can turn water into wine, Wilf Storey might not be able to do that, but the old alchemist almost turns base metal into gold! And none of it would have happened without Celia Radband.

Come on in Celia and watch Edgewater Drive win again next time out at Redcar of June 21, unless of course you are at Royal Ascot!

- TS

Monday Musings: Yes, No, Wait…

Anyone who ever played cricket will have heard those four words, Yes, no, wait….sorry! as he trudged back to the pavilion, run out by half a pitch length thanks to his partner’s indecision and then wanton sense of self-preservation, writes Tony Stafford.

If you’ve got a voice in your head, yes indeed the yesnowaitsorries are a floating ownership group, mainly of National Hunt horses. It was brought together through a joint love of cricket and racing, with the late Alan Lee, former cricket and racing correspondent for the Times, a very active member.

Over the past three months, mostly with good friend Kevin Howard, owner of the Noak Hill Shellfish Cabin off the A127 in deepest Essex, I’ve heard the same phrase trotted out at least 20 times. The project was a now 3yo gelding by Dandy Man called Edgewater Drive. The price plus Wilf Storey’s training fees was calculated based on 10 per cent shares and initially described by would-be joinees as “a cup of tea”: “Yes”, they said, almost without exception.

Next, rather than the No, it was Wait, after all Christmas was coming, the heating bills were astronomical. Well actually, better say No. As 20 dwindled down to zero, “Sorry” was replicated from a score of lips as Kevin withdrew back to the cabin, readying a bowl of jellied eels he’d promised to take to Gary Wiltshire, resident bookmaker at the owners’ room in Chelmsford racecourse.

Neil Graham, boss of Chelmsford, had been very optimistic at the meeting before last when talking about yesterday’s fixture – the first floodlit card on a Sunday in the UK. The total prize money on offer was £144k, a figure that will be replicated at Kempton on February 18.

Sunday racing in the UK had become generally a two-meeting apology, but yesterday was always going to be an exception, weather permitting. Apart from the innovative Chelmsford card, it was to be the last of three scheduled days of the Lingfield Winter Million. Friday’s first stage over jumps was unsurprisingly frozen off, but Saturday went ahead on the all-weather track with almost £250k distributed.

Then yesterday, the hoped-for miracle happened. Temperatures, stubbornly well below freezing for a week, suddenly went comfortably into positive numbers and the £492k card survived. The promise from the BHA to bolster otherwise mundane winter Sundays has made a good start. When we spoke to Neil he was anxious that the punters should roll in at Chelmsford, but as ever I was more than hopeful.

I’ve thrown in the odd Sangster family element in a good few of these articles over the years. Edgewater Drive had his two-year-old season with Ollie Sangster and didn’t make the frame in three starts. Another three times unplaced runner for Ollie, the now 3yo Floating Voter, came home in front in his first handicap – off 55 – at Wolverhampton on Saturday and that had been the plan for Edgewater Drive too until a foot injury stopped him, instead going to the sales before the plan could be tested.

On Thursday, two days before Floating Voter’s win, I was watching the early-evening all-weather action, but miscalculated and instead saw a race about to start at Pornichet, a track along the Atlantic coast from my dream holiday location, La Baule. The fact I never made it there is immaterial, so much was I brainwashed by a veteran production man on the Daily Telegraph sports desk.

Ronnie Fowler was really a news man, but liked his sport so ended up with us. With his soft West Country burr, ready smile and always with a holiday in France either to have just returned from or was about to embark upon, as I said, we knew all about La Baule.

Pornichet racecourse is what you would probably describe as Grands Provences, certainly prominent enough to have a regular spot on Attheraces (Sky Sports Racing).

The commentator had a rundown of the betting of this 4yo and up maiden, declaring that the Nicolas Clement-trained Midsummer Dance was an 8/13 shot having been a good second on her French debut a few weeks earlier.

At the same time, he remarked that the filly was making the opposite directional move than is usually the case. When Sam Sangster was looking for a trainer in France I unhesitatingly recommended M. Clement. Later we discovered that not only had Nicolas trained for Robert Sangster when he started out – he won the Arc in his first season – but also Nicolas’ father Miguel had trained for him.

From his lovely yard in Chantilly, he had prepared French Fifteen to win the Group 1 Criterium International at Saint-Cloud and, after Ray Tooth had sold him three days later, trained him for new connections to be a close second to Camelot in the 2000 Guineas.

Sam has done very well with Nicolas in the interim and when they went off at Pornichet just before 6 p.m. I heard Midsummer Dance moving along easily at the head of the 1m7f maiden race. The leader was Gruschenka and they were still hammer and tongs at the head of the 13-runner field turning for home before the favourite drew away comfortably.

She won by two and a half lengths and the runner-up was five lengths to the good over second favourite Piper’s Hill, to whom we will return in a moment.

It was as they passed the winning line first time around that I twigged. The same blue, green sleeves, green cap with white spots in which Mr S E Sangster’s horses, as differing from Manton House Thoroughbreds, which have the proper Robert Sangster colours with white cap, green spots. It’s amazing how much difference that cap switch makes.

This was the second run in France for the Mendelssohn filly Midsummer Dance. She was originally bought for $300k by a partnership including John Gunther, racing owner of the Newsells Park stallion Without Parole. I’m sure the plan was to send her to him when she won a few races.

Newsells Park, with its owner of a few years Graham Smith-Bernau, aided by General Manager Julian Dollar and Racing Manager Gary Coffey, has become one of the major players both in the sale ring and on the racecourse since Smith-Bernau acquired it.

They would have been expecting to welcome Midsummer Dance, but she failed to impress in three runs for the Gosdens and while improving to be placed a few times when switched to Harry Eustace, the rating of 59 was never going to persuade the owners to keep her.

Instead, she went to last year’s Horses In Training sale where she was knocked down to Blandford Bloodstock, probably Sam’s mate Stuart Boman, for just 12k. The one winning sibling to her was the Ralph Beckett trained Fox Vardy, who was rated in the low 90’s at one time and raced at the later stages of his career over two miles.

While with Harry Eustace, Midsummer Dance usually raced at ten furlongs, but for her first run at Chantilly last month, Nicolas Clement stepped her up to two miles and she finished an excellent second.

Now back a furlong, she stayed on well. I mentioned her UK mark of 59. When beaten three lengths at Chantilly, her victor earned a rating of 36 (x 2.2  to get the pounds from kilograms figure) hence 79.

The third horse on Friday already had a mark of 36, so having beaten him by seven and a half lengths, you would have to say she’ll be rated at least 36, maybe a shade more. That’s a minimum of 20lb higher than the UK mark. We’ll find out in a day or two.

Sam Sangster and his long-time collaborator and principal UK trainer Brian Meehan are the partners in the Mendelssohn filly. They had a bit of fun with the ownership as although carrying Sam’s (S.E Sangster) colours, she races in the name of Shelby Ltd. Maybe it should be Shelby Unlimited after the partners in Isaac Shelby, Brian’s Group 2 winner of the Greenham Stakes last year, was sold for a seven-figure sum before the 2000 Guineas to free-spending Wathnan Racing.

I mentioned Edgewater Drive at the beginning of this piece. Wilf Storey pointed out that only three horses have previously moved from Manton, the Sangster family base for more than 30 years, to his Consett, Co Durham yard.

Looking for a potential hurdler in 1993, I bought the three-year-old Caerleon gelding Great Easeby unraced from Robert: “a total slowcoach”, he said when Peter Chapple-Hyam was the trainer.  Wilf won races on good tracks, flat and jumping, culminating with success in the 24-runner Pertemps Handicap Hurdle at the Cheltenham Festival. The following year, when “unbeatable” Unsinkable Boxer won the race for Martin Pipe, Great Easeby was an early faller, but started third-favourite!

Next was Jan Smuts, an expensive yearling buy for Raymond Tooth. He had a bad injury and then on third career start, pulled himself up in a flat race at Windsor.

It was thought he was unlikely to race again but had his final win in 2018 as a ten-year-old. He had been sent to Storey for free and raced a further 116 times, winning seven over flat and jumps and placed another 48 (!) times between second and fourth.

Finally, Card High. I watched out for his big white face as he toiled on Brian’s gallops every Thursday, too slow to finish last in his work! Sam’s older brothers Ben and Guy Sangster were happy to pass him on and he became another multiple winner (eight) and more than 50 per cent in the money in 50-odd runs.

Wilf, and granddaughter and assistant Siobhan Doolan, both have at least as much faith in this young, still growing three-year-old, as any of his predecessors. Wilf says: “He’ll stay.” Once they get up there on the Moor darting around avoiding the 300 sheep at Grange Farm, they usually do.

So, if you believe the sales pitch (unlike the Doubting Twenty!) and would be interested in maybe having a shot at a very cheap option to the rather pricier, but admittedly fantastically successful Geegeez.co.uk syndicates so skilfully managed by Matt Bisogno, the Editor, just give a call to Mr Storey or Ms Doolan. You’ll find them on the web.

When you get to “Yes”, never mind the No or Wait. I predict you won’t be Sorry!

- TS

Monday Musings: Remembering “Ginger” Roger

I suppose it will be happening ever more regularly now, writes Tony Stafford. The phone rings and someone says: “Did you know so-and-so died?”

Roger Hales, a great friend of racing, lost to us last week

Roger Hales, a great friend of racing, lost to us last week

Until the call last Tuesday I didn’t know Roger died, and it was only when I did that I realised I hadn’t been getting since before Christmas the almost daily call of “Fancy anything today? I’m just calling to see if you are all right.” Or rather, “all roit”.

Considering he was a year older than me and that from his days as a teenager down the mines near to his Nuneaton home, his breathing was always difficult, he got around walking many fast miles every day until very recently.

The breathing problems became even more difficult in later years when visits to doctors’ medical centres, and even brief stays in hospital to get some much-needed oxygen, characterised his time in his new life in Great Yarmouth, which he enjoyed to distraction especially when he moved within a few hundred yards of the track.

Roger “Ginger” Hales had been a fixture on the country’s Midlands racecourses from the time his father, who ran a betting business in the town, first introduced him to some of the characters of his own life experience.

Occasionally jockeys would come to see Hales senior and, while he did tell me a couple of names and the services for which they would be paid, I think it unfair to besmirch their memory.

I am much less reluctant to relate an anecdote which he loved to tell, about his family’s next-door neighbour, a certain Billy Breen. He was a celebrity in the Nuneaton of the 1960’s when, in common with many people in those days, their telephone was on a party line with next door.

When Billy, stage name Larry Grayson of “shut that door” fame, noticed Roger’s mum had picked up her receiver while he was already talking, he would proceed shamelessly to “camp up” the conversation. “She loved it,” said Roger. “Billy was the nicest man. We were all delighted with his great success on TV.”

Part of the family routine in those days was that they would all decamp every late summer for the big September meeting at Great Yarmouth, where dad would have a pitch at the races and Roger would help while his mother and sisters enjoyed the full holiday experience.

Then there were years training greyhounds to win races all around the country. “One top trainer used to pump them full of steroids,” he recalled. “I got hold of a few of them from him and it took at least six months to get it out of their system, just walking them and giving them proper natural food. Then we would take them flapping (unlicensed racing) and often pull off a gamble!”

Later in life – and this is when I first met him, around 20 years ago - he was running a company making metal garden items, such as hanging baskets. He walked up to me, unannounced, at Yarmouth, introducing himself. He told me how he ran a company employing many staff but that it was going bust as major firms took so long paying their bills for the products they bought.

Within a couple of years, he had left his family, moving permanently, alone, to Yarmouth where he soon became a very popular figure around the town. A few times when I visited for a race meeting and was able to be there for a couple of hours beforehand, we would walk through the market and be stopped every few yards. No mean feat for an outsider!

But the connection with racing continued well into his 70’s and he could often be seen either helping a trainer at the races or driving a horsebox from one end of the country to another. Noel Quinlan was one of those he knew best.

Noel said: “He would do anything for you – even drive down from Yarmouth to Newmarket to muck out or drive a box. Then when he returned the box he would wash it out and leave it much cleaner than when he collected it. He was about the same age as my late brother Michael and he was so sad, as we all were, when he died.”

Roger used to love to come and watch Raymond Tooth’s horses run as we got to know each other better. I needed to be there and often when there was a long trip north, he would insist on driving, usually meeting near Huntingdon. He had been a long-distance lorry driver and had a licence which allowed him to drive larger horseboxes.

One tale involving a much smaller vehicle, a two-hander which needed to be collected in Newmarket; transferred up to Richmond in North Yorkshire where he was to pick up a filly and then on to Wilf Storey in Co. Durham to drop her off, was not without incident.

It soon became obvious to him as he left Richmond and the filly (a two-year-old) settled in, that the partition was faulty, and she was falling into the middle all the time. She had a bumpy ride, poor thing. Then after delivering her safely, making sure to avail himself of Brenda Storey’s legendary Victoria Sponge cake <I always used to bring one back from there!> on his way out of Wilf’s yard, he banged into one of the guarding posts at the entrance, doing a fair bit of damage to the vehicle, less so the stone. I expect it took a degree of soft soap to sweet talk the box-owner and allay his irritation.

Back in 2011, several years earlier than the box incident, we got into a great routine. It was at the time of French Fifteen’s brilliant two-year-old career with Nicolas Clement. After he won his first race near the German border, which we missed, Clement found him three more successive winning opportunities.

Roger would drive down from Great Yarmouth to Hackney Wick, pick me up and drive via a very late Eurotunnel train to the West of France from Calais, usually arriving early in the morning.

We went in July to Chateaubriant, August to Le Lion d’Angers, and in early September to Craon. On  the last-named trip French Fifteen won a very good Listed race at the expense of the favourite, trained by Jean-Claude Rouget, who used to expect to win the race every year.

To say Roger enjoyed the day is an under-statement as after the race he was invited to join us on the podium and conversed for a few minutes with a senior administrator who happened to be one of the Baron Rothschilds. “I was speaking to a Rothschild!”, he kept reminding me, all the way home.

The colt’s next race was a Group 3 at Saint-Cloud, and that was the one time Raymond could attend; so he, Steve Gilbey and me, travelled by Eurostar for his only other defeat as a juvenile apart from his debut, finishing an okay second, but losing just the same.

There were misgivings (both from owner and trainer) about whether he should run in the Criterium International (Group 1) back then, but in the end we bit the bullet; though it was to be me and Roger again. As usual, it was an early pick-up so, knowing his penchant for promptness, I called at 5 a.m. asking: “Are you in the car park?” He replied that, no, he was stuck on the side of the M11 with a broken-down car and a phone with no credit.

Having organised a pick-up to take him and his vehicle back home, I set off to drive to Paris. When FF won in great style, I couldn’t partake of the free-flowing champagne but a one-time (and not especially favourite) divorce client of the boss, John Livock, certainly did enjoy the refreshments. By the time I set off back home for Chelsea and Ray’s house to deliver the massive trophy, I was almost convinced that Livock and not Tooth was the owner!

Within a week, French Fifteen was sold to a member of the Qatar Ruling family. He came to the 2,000 Guineas the following spring and got within a neck of Camelot in a desperate finish. Roger always remembered bumping into Nicolas Clement before the race and having a great chat. As he turned back to us before going in, he said: “What a gentleman, he gave me two owners’ badges.”

Everyone who knew Roger regarded him as a gentleman. His Yarmouth friends Richie Farnese, Gary Holmes, who called me with the awful news, and Malcolm “Murphy” Alexander recalled countless instances of helping infirm older relatives and how he would volunteer at the medical centres when anyone needed to get to hospital.

His friend Vicky Coleman, who he referred to whenever they bumped into anyone as “my babs” has a similar story. Her grandmother was ill with cancer a few years back and Roger “used to take granny everywhere when he still had a car. He was the same with my mum Maureen and my two girls.”

When Covid struck, coincidentally his health deteriorated, Vicky believing his not being able to drive being the major reason rather than the virus. I remember at the time when nobody was supposed to go out, but the buses were still running, he would call and say: “I’m in Norwich” or “I’ve come to Peterborough”. He would say: “No-one’s about, but I managed to get a cup of tea and then I’ll be coming back and probably be the only person on the bus.”

Nobody got better value from their Seniors Bus Pass, or as he would laugh at his frequent later trips to his various medical appointments, “Or the NHS!”

I hate funerals but once this lovely man’s time to be laid to rest is settled, I will move heaven and earth to be there.

- TS

Monday Musings: Cheltenham Memory Lane

I rarely buy the print version of the Racing Post, preferring instead the online option (saves at least £80 a month), but on Friday I stretched a point, writes Tony Stafford. I needed to check whether I was still officially alive – so many other great cricketers having succumbed over the past week – and, yes, there I was with yet another new description.

You have to hand it to John Randall, still the man behind the Post’s birthday feature and so much else, and also my former colleague Howard Wright. They keep their aging fingers – one set older, one younger – on the pulse and have now blown my cover and described me as “Editor-in-Chief of Fromthestables.com”.

So no longer Raymond Tooth’s racing manager and possibly other plausible titles involving the Daily Telegraph – left in 2002, really? – but it was nice of them to give the site the publicity it deserves. That’s just my totally objective opinion, of course.

Friday’s Post informed me and the rest of the rapidly diminishing number of the immediate post-World War 2 baby boom generation that I had indeed entered the final quarter of my personal century.

The values instilled in me by my racing loving, Arsenal supporting and cricket adoring father have stayed with me for at least 70 years since I first went to Highbury, Newmarket and Kempton Park. People might have expected me to grow up, but what would be the point? Become a Formula One fan, hardly!

The early days at the races were always by charabanc – coach to you – with stops at the halfway houses between East London and those two named tracks courtesy of the Fallowfield and Britten firm that picked up at Clapton Pond.

One day standing in the toilet on the way to the 1954 2,000 Guineas won by Darius – Harry Wragg, Manny Mercer - I felt a warm, moist intrusion on my left leg. Further enquiries revealed the culprit as Prince Monolulu, the famed racecourse tipster who sold his selections to a willing public. For many years he had the persona, if not the bladder control, to entice an audience.

In those innocent days this alleged chief of the Falasha tribe of Abyssinia (now Ethiopia) had actually been born in the Virgin Islands and his name was the far from glamorous Peter Carl Mackay. At the time of my anointment as a future tipster he was already 72 years old and survived the 1961 legalising of betting shops, four years before his death aged 83.

When my dad got a car, a favourite was the spring meeting at Epsom where we would park on the Hill and watch from opposite the winning post, but later he asked if I’d like to go to Cheltenham.

He took me and a couple of friends for the opening day of the 1968 meeting and it happened to be the year when L’Escargot had the first of his big wins, in the second division of the Gloucestershire Hurdle, historically usually the race targeted by Vincent O’Brien before he left jumping to his inferiors having won multiple Gold Cups, Champion Hurdles and Grand Nationals in the early post-war years.

Dan Moore was the trainer and Tommy Carberry the rider of the horse owned by Raymond Guest, the former US Ambassador to Ireland. Guest also owned Sir Ivor, the outstanding Derby winner, trained by O’Brien to Classic success only three months after that Cheltenham trip.

We all piled on him with a few quid each and the atmosphere was very good on the way home. If L’Escargot made an impact that day, it was not until a year or so later that he was to become my favourite jumper of all time.

I had joined the racing desk at the Press Association and one particular week we were concentrating on the Wills Premier Chase meeting at Haydock early in the year. Two Irish horses dominated the betting on the Final, L’Escargot and a horse that had beaten him in the Irish qualifier a few weeks earlier. He was East Bound, trained by Arkle’s celebrated handler, Tom Dreaper.

It seemed to me that the betting was all wrong as winners of a qualifier had to carry a 5lb penalty. Research – in those days information was something to be chiselled out rather than at the touch of a keypad – told me that L’Escargot had followed his early hurdling days in Ireland by racing in his owner’s homeland, to such good effect that he was voted Champion US chaser of 1969, having won the Meadow Brook Chase at Belmont Park.

Before Haydock I thought I was very clever taking 14-1 about the Gold Cup. He duly won at Haydock, not by far, but as the weeks went by he drifted by the day. I travelled to that Cheltenham by train with a chap from Raceform called Peter Boyer (I think!) telling him all the way that 33-1 was a joke.

So it proved and he won at that price and followed up the next year in bottomless ground as favourite or thereabouts.

By the following year he started a four-time challenge for the Grand National, right in the middle of the Red Rum era. In 1972 he was a third fence faller carrying 12st top-weight. Under the same burden in 1973 he was a remote third to Red Rum, who was making his debut in the race and who received 23lb from L’Escargot and the Australian horse and joint-top weight Crisp, who famously just failed to make all in that epic race.

L’Escargot got nearer to Red Rum in second the next year and, as a 12-year-old in 1975, gained deserved recompense with a 15-length defeat of Red Rum, who by now was conceding him weight. That was where L’Escargot’s racing story ends as only the second horse (and still only the second almost half a century later) after Golden Miller to win both the Gold Cup and Grand National.

Red Rum still had to return for another runner-up place behind Rag Trade and then a final triumphant curtain call in 1975, when he made it three Grand National wins and two second places, also as a 12-year-old.

Once at the Daily Telegraph, Cheltenham visits were more regular but not to the degree that the outside staff could guarantee. But the year after I’d made a most impulsive “purchase” – £100k for ten horses from French-based carpet tycoon and private stable owner Malcolm Parrish in 1984 – I just had to be there.

Parrish owned all of the 100-plus horses in his stable and was pretty much the trainer although M de Tarragon held the licence officially. A few years earlier Michael Dickinson had bought through me but more significantly from Prince Rajsinh of Rajpipla – Prince Pippy to his readers in the Sun years later – who is the son of Windsor Lad’s (1935 Derby) owner, the Maharajah of that Indian state, two horses from Parrish.

One, French Hollow, proved a wonderful buy so it was fortuitous when going over to meet David O’Brien at Ballydoyle soon after his Derby win with Secreto, after that horse beat his father’s El Gran Senor the previous month, when he asked me to redirect to the Cashel Palace Hotel as he was with an owner.

That owner was Malcolm, later to own both the Lordship and Egerton Studs in Newmarket. I told him of the French Hollow connection and he said. “Do you want any more?” We agreed on ten and they were all to go to Rod Simpson. You might ask where did I have £100k to spend? Luckily Malcolm wasn’t much bothered and he got his money in the end. Rod didn’t like the look of one, Hogmanay, priced at £5k and when later he kept winning chases around Ascot and the like for Richard Casey it was hard to take.

There were problems with others too. A horse called Seram behaved like a lunatic from day one and Rod suggested I’d give him and another horse away. I moved them both to Wilf Storey who already had Fiefdom for me, and while Seram did have to be put down after almost killing Chris Grant on the gallops, Santopadre was an outstanding jumper.

In short time Wilf won successively a selling hurdle, a claimer and a novice with a double penalty, each time with noted punter Terry Ramsden filling his boots, the latter race by 15 lengths at Wetherby. It was around that time I got a call from the Jockey Club security people to meet me at Ascot. There they said they believed Rod Simpson was still training horses that were running under Storey’s name. I told them in my opinion Rod was nothing like as good a trainer as the mild-mannered Co. Durham sheep farmer.

Another of the ten was Brunico, a grey who later in his career won 23 point-to-point races for Peter Bowen. At this stage he’d just won at Windsor first time over hurdles as a partnership horse with Terry Ramsden, but he bought me out before his win at Sandown, where even Dermot Browne’s best efforts couldn’t stop him winning.

He was second in that year’s Triumph where Santopadre was fifth, both in Terry’s colours. He then won an amateurs’ Flat race on Doncaster’s opening meeting under Tim Thomson Jones before providing a big shock when winning the Ormonde Stakes (Group 3) at Chester at 33-1.

A third runner  in that Triumph, carrying my then but now David Armstrong’s red silks, was second-favourite Tangognat but he hated the ground and finished tailed off.

The Cashel Palace Hotel was closed for many years but it has been greatly restored and a friend who stayed there last week – it re-opened on March 1 – says it is spectacular. As he was visiting Ballydoyle, Coolmore and the two younger O’Briens’ stables in preparation for the new season, he got his timing right – as ever. Lucky boy, that Harry!

One horse that will not be at Cheltenham is the Doreen Tabor-owned Walking On Air who was so impressive at Newbury recently. Apparently Nicky Henderson will not be able to prepare him for the race in time for next week.

His dam Refinement’s near miss is engraved on my memory, as I turned away when she apparently had the Mares’ Hurdle won, exactly at the moment her head hit the line going up rather than down.

The one Cheltenham I regret having missed of course was Punjabi’s Champion Hurdle victory in 2009 for Ray Tooth. I was sitting on my sofa at home recovering from a detached retina operation and dared not risk getting knocked over should he win. Instead I watched alone, barely cheering, just enjoying the unbelievable result. That day I fancied horses in every race and linked them all in a full cover each-way bet.

I had the 33/1 winner and laid out a nice few quid. Not one of the others managed a place! Never mind we beat Binocular! I love Cheltenham and regret I can’t get there in 2022. Hopefully there will be a few more chances, but you never know!

 - TS