There are few sporting events that captivate an audience the way thoroughbred racing does.
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Known as the Sport of Kings, it produces heroes and forever memorable moments in the annuals of history.
In the coming days as we count down to the running of the Melbourne Cup, Miller’s Guides and all forms of racing guides will be perused, as not only punters, but people from all walks of life sort out their choices for the big event.
As the race draws close, where ever people gather, the event will be dissected, as the deeds of past winners are drawn into comparison with our modern day champions.
Could it be Archer’s mythical walk to Melbourne to win his first cup or maybe Carbine in carrying 10.5 (65.5kg) and defeating the biggest field ever assembled 39 in 1890.
Or the big red horse of the 1930s, Phar Lap who raced unparalleled in that era.
Maybe Peter Pan will be mentioned in 1934 the flashy chestnut carrying the steadier of 9.10 (61.5kg) strolled away from his classy opponents to win by three lengths on a track that was a bog.
Darling of the turf Makybe Diva was the first (and so far the only) racehorse to collect three Melbourne Cup victories - a consecutive conglomerate in 2003, 2004 and 2005.
Hall of Fame winner Lee Freedman trained the Diva to two of her three incredible Melbourne Cup wins.
Freedman’s legacy shows him sitting equally alongside trainer Etienne de Mestre with five coveted Melbourne Cup wins.
The only man to better that feat is the affable Bart Cummings with an incredible 12 wins, a record to stand the test of time.
Individual performances will be looked at, Victorian jockey Harry White’s four winners, Think Big - twice, Hyperno and Beldale Ball, to equal Bobby Lewis’ record of cup winners (The Victory, Patrobas, Artilleryman and Trivalve) - Lewis had 33 mounts in the Melbourne Cup for four firsts, four seconds and one third.
Each and every year the running of the cup never fails to produce its share of triumphs and tragedy.
In 2002 both facets fell on champion jockey Damien Oliver who rode under the cloud of the death of his brother Jason, killed in a track trial accident the week prior to the running of the cup.
But like all champions Damien Oliver put aside his personal grief and riding on a flood of emotion guided the Irish trained stayer, and favourite for the race, Media Puzzle to victory.
Who will forget 1992 when the kid from Muswellbrook, Wayne Harris, climbed up off the canvas to win the cup on Jeune.
Each and every year a new chapter is written and on November 4 another one will enter the annuals of the great race as Australia pauses for the race that stops a nation.
Remember when
I can remember the first Tuesday in November 1948, together with my class mates and our teachers - the Sisters of Mercy – as we sat in the old Catholic Church Hall, now the School of Arts in Kingdon Street, all ears glued to the HMV radio as we listened to the running of that year’s Melbourne Cup.
That afternoon at the famous Flemington racecourse a young lad, just six years my senior was about to fulfill the dream of a life time.
It was a step into fantasyland for a boy on the eve of his 16th birthday and Ray Neville knew that this was his one slim chance in life to etch his name in history.
He and his mount Rimfire, at 80/1, were in front near the finishing post but Jack Thompson was swooping on them (on the fence) and grabbed them at the death.
Then, when both riders had pulled up, the older man trotted Dark Marne to the clerk of the course and together they waited for the moment when they would return along the roses to the winner’s stall.
Jockeys all over Australia daydream of such moments, especially in the spring.
For Jack Thompson it was the ultimate.
It was his first Melbourne Cup winner. It was his day of triumph.
Meanwhile, the apprenticed kid, Ray Neville, hung back behind Thompson, believing that the Sydney rider’s mount had lunged in time to grab the cup from him.
The numbers went into the judge’s frame and Thompson stared at them as though he was dreaming.
The punters were yelling and suddenly the clerk of the course was leading Rimfire - and an equally stunned Ray Neville - along the avenue.
The camera said that Rimfire had lasted by half a head, and so a boy named Neville had ridden into history.
He never won another race.
The months passed and his weight soared so he quit the game and drove taxis - for most of the rest of his working life.
It could only happen in racing, a game in which the Lord giveth and then taketh away quick-smart.