Читать книгу Manikato - Adam Crettenden - Страница 9

5

Bon's Champion

There were a few sore heads around the stables the following day. Fortunately, being Sunday, it was beach swimming day for most of the horses, including Manikato. While this was occurring, Bon Hoysted got on the phone. He wanted to get Mal Seccull’s opinion about running in the Golden Slipper Stakes. Seccull told Hoysted that he’d been thinking about it and would attend the stables in person that afternoon to discuss it further.

Seccull didn’t believe it appropriate if a horse trainer told him how to run his property business and therefore, he wasn’t one for interfering in horse training—even if it were one of his own. However, his opinion sought, Seccull sided with Willetts.

‘Bon, we may never have another horse like Manikato good enough to win the Slipper,’ Seccull said. ‘If we don’t go up and give him the chance we would probably regret it for the rest of our lives.’ The conversation wasn’t about lining up and hoping for the best. Hoysted had a runner in the Golden Slipper the previous year—King Of The Stars—who had finished twelfth in a race where the best was hoped for. This discussion was about winning.

Hoysted’s pondering continued into the next day. He picked up a newspaper and within its contents was an early Golden Slipper market. Manikato was 3/1 favourite. Before the Blue Diamond, Hoysted’s biggest win was the 1966 Doomben 10,000 with Pterylaw. That race was worth substantially less than $150,000. The words of Gary Willetts and Mal Seccull reverberated in Hoysted’s mind. Perhaps this would be his only hope of winning a race like this.

Still, it wasn’t a matter of simply changing one’s mind. Manikato needed to have come through his biggest challenge to date in fine order. The youngster had returned from his swim in the bay and bounced into the sand roll for the afternoon. There was not a scratch on him and his temperature was normal.

Another unknown for Hoysted was how Manikato would handle racing clockwise. All his gallops had either been anti-clockwise or down the Flemington straight. What a waste of time it would be if the chestnut lined up in Australia’s biggest two-year-old race only to run off the track on Rosehill’s home turn.

The fact that Hoysted was now considering calling Epsom’s track manager meant that the temptation of heading to the Harbour City was getting the better of him. Hoysted needed permission and assistance to organise an unofficial trial at Epsom for Manikato.

Then there was the prize money gamble. The VRC Sires’ Produce Stakes at Flemington was worth $50,000 plus trophies—just a third of the Golden Slipper. However, it was still significant money and the race seemed to be at the mercy of Manikato, who would likely run an odds-on favourite if he took his place. The wrong decision could cost thousands.

Monday had turned to Tuesday, and then Wednesday. By Thursday, the racing media were constantly calling to clarify whether Manikato would run in Melbourne or Sydney the following week. The deadline for a decision was looming. Manikato had a leisurely week on the training track; no amount of trackwork was going to get him fitter. His slow work had alternated between clockwise and anti-clockwise, which kept everyone guessing.

It took until the following week for it to be finalised. On Tuesday 7 March, the unofficial trial on Epsom’s course proper was convened. The trainers’ balcony at the facility was filled with track clockers, a handful of newspaper reporters, other curious trainers, plus Bon Hoysted. It was all about one horse, but two horses emerged onto the track. The first was Egobud, a handy Welter-horse, followed by the large liver-chestnut frame of Manikato.1 Egobud, also trained by Hoysted, was purely there for companionship and to provide some sort of simulated race pressure. Starting stalls were used and the distance was 800 metres.

From the moment the barriers opened, Egobud was behind. Manikato whizzed straight to the lead with Willetts maintaining a tight grip on the reins. Egobud got close with Manikato under such restraint and the pair came to the end of the work, covering the gallop in 49.5 seconds. Manikato finished narrowly ahead but travelled well within himself. It looked good, with Manikato making the sharp right-hand turn smoothly. But Hoysted was keen to get down from the balcony to chat with Gary Willetts. Hoysted was first back to the spot where Manikato would be unsaddled and in the distance, he could see the current Golden Slipper favourite walking towards him, accompanied by some humming. As the party met, it was clear that the humming emanated from Willetts with a well-rehearsed rendition of James Bland’s ‘O, Dem Golden Slippers’. Willetts couldn’t stop laughing as he dismounted and Hoysted didn’t have to say anything; he knew the answer to the question he most wanted to ask.

Hoysted was cutting things fine with travel plans but had everything in place for the horse to make it to Sydney. Very late on the Thursday night, barely thirty-six hours from race time, Manikato was loaded into the cargo hold of a flight to Sydney. Bon Hoysted, Gary Willetts, Mal Seccull and Ross McDonald were all on the same flight. McDonald, the trusted foreman, was to strap the horse for the race as Leeanne Smith had several other horses to look after at Epsom.

Manikato had drawn gate nine for the rich race—right in the middle of the eighteen-horse field. Having gotten wind of the travelling arrangements for Manikato, bookmakers were keen to push the horse’s price out. The day before the race there was 6/1 available. Most horses travelled early in the week and had at least one look around Rosehill for familiarity. The fact that Manikato would not be sighted at Rosehill until race day was of concern to the experienced racegoers of Sydney. If it worried Hoysted, he wasn’t showing it.

‘I appreciate he’s got a task ahead of him, but I think he’s equal to it.’2

More than 31,000 racegoers filed into Rosehill on that clear, sunny Saturday, 11 March 1978. After 6/1 was flashed around the previous day, bookmakers opened Manikato at 9/2 for the Golden Slipper Stakes as he attempted to be the first Victorian-trained winner since Vain in 1969.

As the start time of 2.55pm neared, the anticipation built considerably. Many liked Black Opaque—a local hope who had won all five starts—but there was also interest in the Tommy Smith-trained Jubilee Walk, Inventive (Ray Guy), Jewel Flight (Bart Cummings) and another Victorian, Toolern High (runner-up in the Blue Diamond for Geoff Murphy). However, despite the so-called ‘hoodoo’ of not previously seeing Rosehill, punters voted late with their wallets and backed Manikato into outright favouritism. He firmed from 9/2 into 7/2 in the final minutes of betting.

The crowd hushed somewhat as the last of the eighteen runners were loaded and the starter called final instructions. The barriers then opened, and it was on. Black Opaque jumped marginally quicker than Manikato and assumed the lead. As they raced each other early, many could see the mismatch in size; Black Opaque was greatly shorter than the 16.2 hands of Manikato. The blistering early tempo stretched the rest of the pack like an elastic band. Many of those who were drawn wider and worried about deep, tough runs suddenly found themselves slotting into midfield positions, purely because of the hot speed up front. Jubilee Walk was the only runner, who having copped an early check, already seemed too far back.

The field came out of the chute and headed past the 800-metre pole while the leaders charged on. Black Opaque on the rails had a narrow lead over Manikato. Black Opaque’s rider, Ray Selkrig knew he was going fast, and while riding a smaller horse with a shorter stride length, he’d be forgiven for thinking a track record was about to be set. And it was heading that way. The first half of the race was covered in a smidgen over 34 seconds. Selkrig could hear Manikato pounding the ground and breathing next to him and realised he was in trouble.

‘[Black Opaque] had a good run but was taking three steps to Manikato’s two,’3 Selkrig would later say to the media.

Behind the two leaders as they headed to the home turn, the frenetic and remorseless pace had already taken its toll. Inventive had dropped out, Jubilee Walk had no chance of getting near the front, Toolern High struggled the Sydney direction and Jewel Flight was under pressure despite having a perfect trail.

For Manikato, there was no issue rounding the final turn. Willetts, without taking his hands from the reins, gave Kato a slap on the shoulder with the whip. An extra gear was immediately exposed. It was a gear that little Black Opaque simply did not possess.

‘I knew I was in trouble at the 400 but hung on until about the 200 and that’s when Manikato just raced away and I could see nothing was going to catch him,’ remembers Selkrig. ‘He was too big and powerful. I quickly realised how good he was.’

That burst had put three lengths between Manikato and any other competitor. Willetts had used the superior physique of Manikato to obliterate the others. If they weren’t worried about his size and demeanour pre-race, they had no match for the sustained speed showed within the race. The lengthy stride of the chestnut created ‘air time’, whereby all four legs were off the ground as he galloped.

Many in the stands had put down their glasses halfway down the straight. Willetts’ only encouragement was the occasional slap on the shoulder, no more was needed; the race was all but over. Tiring slightly in the last 100 metres and with Willetts easing up, Manikato’s winning margin was cut down to a length on the line by 20/1 outsider, Smokey Jack, who’d made late ground with Jewel Flight running third.

While the first half of the race was run in just over 34 seconds, the second half was around 36.5, further outlining just how brutal the speed was early. Despite this, it took a while for Manikato to return after the race. Many of his gasping rivals had long returned to the enclosure, but Manikato had an adventurous few seconds immediately after crossing the line, as Willetts explained.

‘Manikato had got onto his ‘wrong’ leg several times in the race. As an apprentice in New Zealand, I’d been taught how to pick up on this and correct it because they race both ways over there, depending on the track. When I let him go at the top of the straight, I could feel he wanted to shift up the track and change legs again. That’s one reason why I was just hands and heels. As I eased him up on the line, he did manage to switch legs. [He] ran to the left and ended up scattering all the police horses as we came to a stop in the 2000-metre chute.’

The short-statured figure of Bon Hoysted waited for his champion to be ceremonially led back across to the winner’s stall. Given his size, he could barely peer across the top of each petition separating the first five placegetters. The trainer, from one of Australian racing’s best-known families—the man with no neck who, for thirty-seven years had been yearning for the moments that had enveloped him over the past two weeks. His biggest thrill in racing a fortnight earlier had suddenly been eclipsed; his champion horse had provided him with the rarely achieved Blue Diamond/Golden Slipper double. Tears rolled down his face as he watched Manikato walk across the mounting yard to him.

Willetts, carrying his saddle, moved past the beaming faces of Mal Seccull and Ross McDonald and gave an acknowledging nod to Hoysted, who had been beset upon by reporters from both Sydney and Melbourne. In the Sydney versus Melbourne sporting rivalry, it was the Melbourne scribes who had bragging rights on this day.

After gathering himself, Hoysted remarked that the Australian Jockey Club (AJC) Sires’ Produce Stakes and the Champagne Stakes were both under consideration in coming weeks, depending on the health of his chestnut.

Manikato had surpassed $150,000 in prize earnings—a first for a two-year-old in Australia. Yet it appeared there would be no rest for the youngster with the next two legs of the Sydney two-year-old Triple Crown approaching (the Golden Slipper being the first leg).

While the horse cooled off, the festivities were just getting underway amongst the winners. The only exception was Willetts, who had a booking to return to Melbourne the following morning. For the others, dinner turned into late evening drinks and a night during which not much sleep was had. Hoysted did remember to make a phone call, however, knowing that one important member of the team was not there with them.

Leeanne Smith was flown to Sydney the next day, leaving other staff to cover her absence from Edith Street. Hoysted also needed her there for vigilance, as he was required back in Melbourne to saddle up a runner in the Australian Cup on the Labour Day Monday (Jury, finished sixth) and needed to return home. Leeanne and Ross McDonald would oversee Manikato for his time remaining in Sydney. There was nothing sophisticated with his training routine. It was a simple trot and canter exercise most mornings to curb any rustiness and maintain some continuity. McDonald had recently been issued with his trainer’s license and with his horse handling skills, along with Leeanne’s attention to detail, Hoysted knew there was nothing to worry about.

Manikato had settled well at trainer Albert McKenna’s Palbi Lodge establishment at Randwick just opposite the 800-metre mark. McKenna had recently welcomed both Raffindale and Reckless as lodgers for Sydney campaigns, with each of them winning feature races.4 Manikato’s stay there would afford him one luxury that he didn’t have prior to the Golden Slipper: familiarity with the track he was to race on.

Sydney poured it on during the weekend between the Golden Slipper and the AJC Sires’ Produce—literally. A whopping 75 millimetres of rain fell at Randwick.5 While it was still a week from Manikato’s next start, it was a significant amount of rain and raised questions as to whether the star two-year-old could handle a slow or heavy track. It was a question that nobody could definitively answer; he’d never seen one—ever.

With grass training tracks being affected, Manikato’s work shifted onto the sand track, but remained light. His work was supplemented by long walks before dawn and after sunset.

Physically, he seemed unchanged in comparison to the previous few weeks. Manikato was bright, eating and comfortable. But the weather was causing consternation within the camp, with Hoysted wanting a serious gallop on the Tuesday to stretch the champion’s legs before the Saturday.

Hoysted flew to Sydney on the Monday, five days from the race and had Willetts for company. Given the expected conditions, Bon wanted to personally oversee any fast work that was to be done the next morning and was relying on his experienced rider for guidance.

The grass was available for trackwork on Tuesday morning. A worried look was carried on Hoysted’s face as he legged Willetts aboard. No instructions were necessary, Willetts had grown up with these conditions in New Zealand. Randwick’s track clockers didn’t even bother clicking their timepieces; times were irrelevant. What was of most interest was whether Manikato was confident in galloping along with the shifting, muddy surface.

The chestnut went from a trot to a slow canter and by the 800 metres was asked to go a bit quicker. Willetts could feel it straight away. It was the feeling of losing control. Briefly, Willetts loosened the tension on the reins. It was a sign for Kato to run faster, but instead of running faster, his head started dipping and his galloping action slowed. Willetts was alarmed knowing that he was on a champion young horse that was not handling the heavy ground at all. The risk of continuing at pace was great, so Willetts started to ease Manikato down at the 400 metres instead of quickening further, which would have normally been the case. They were barely in motion when they reached the finish line. Willetts relayed what seemed obvious to onlookers as he dismounted.

‘I have ridden on some heavy tracks in New Zealand but nothing like this,’ Willetts said. ‘I know the AJC did a good job to give us grass to work on, but I couldn’t take the risk with Manikato. I thought once that we were gone but he kept his feet and I closed my eyes. He couldn’t handle the heavy going at all. I just hope that the weather clears up and the track comes good for Saturday.’6

Drier conditions prevailed for the next couple of days and when the field was finalised for the Sires’ Produce Stakes, there were ten runners. Amongst the main competition to Manikato was Jewel Flight and Jubilee Walk, third and fourth respectively in the Golden Slipper, along with Karaman—the only horse to have beaten Manikato so far.

Although no more rain fell before the Randwick meeting, the track had only improved enough to be rated as slow. This didn’t help Hoysted, Seccull or Willetts in their decision-making process. While Manikato showed he had a dislike for heavy ground, he may have been fine on slow ground. On the other hand, he still may be a ‘duffer’ even on the slightly better track.

Hoysted felt stressed. His choice was to be easy if the track was heavy but now there was indecision. The horse’s health was fine, and he was already in Sydney. Connections walked the track, all agreeing it had dried out considerably since Manikato last set foot on it four days ago. The field was no stronger than the Golden Slipper and even if he was somewhat inferior on wet ground, he may still be able to win.

Hoysted rolled the dice, and Manikato took his place.

* * *

For just under a minute and a half, regret emanated from the grandstand and horseback. It took 1 minute 26.5 seconds to run the AJC Sires’ Produce Stakes at Randwick that day and Manikato was never a hope. Bon Hoysted could see it from the stands within a few seconds, while Gary Willetts felt it within a bound of the gates opening to start the event.

Manikato never found his customary dominant barrier speed. Everything in the race seemed laborious and it wasn’t a comfortable ride for Willetts. It felt more like rowing a boat in rough seas than driving a smooth, push-button luxury vehicle like in previous starts. With their fate in the race sealed a long way from the finish, Willetts didn’t punish his mount at the end of the 1400 metres. The pair completed the event in fifth place but well behind the winner, Karaman, who had taken Manikato’s scalp both times he had been beaten as a two-year-old.

As Willetts steered the favourite back into the enclosure, the toll of the race was evident on the chestnut. His head was distinctly lower. He looked tired and he was breathing heavier than at any other start, despite his high level of residual fitness. Shifting, wet tracks did not match his hefty frame and the force required to push out of it. Try as he did, he wasn’t as nimble as some of the other lighter, fleet-footed youngsters.

It was a slightly disappointing note to finish off a whirlwind autumn. When the calendar turned to 1978, barely a soul had heard of Manikato. Three months later, he was amongst discussions for ‘Horse of the Year’ categories and seemed a lock for at least the two-year-old section after winning the Blue Diamond and Golden Slipper Stakes.

But his two-year-old racing days were now over. Following six starts, it was time for a rest. His temporary home at the stables of Albert McKenna was vacated and he was transported back to Victoria.

A reserved paddock awaited Manikato at Mal Seccull’s Yarra Park property, just beyond Melbourne’s north-eastern fringe. It was a 1.5-acre yard immediately behind and closest to the manager’s cottage. The manager, Rob Bennett, would not need many instructions from Bon Hoysted.

‘Just look after him,’ he was reminded as the horse was led the short distance to the paddock gate.

The yard itself was just a tiny part of the 650-acre complex but offered constant supervision. With the days quickly becoming shorter and colder, it also offered the most amount of shelter from the weather. It didn’t take long for the spark to return.

‘Once he got some green grass into him he was toey and excited for a while, but he’d soon settle,’ recalled Bennett.

By mid-April, just over a fortnight since his last run, he’d relaxed and quietly wandered around the paddock day-to-day. Back at Epsom, the daily grind of being a horse trainer continued for Bon Hoysted. However, he was allowing himself a look ahead in the calendar to start plotting the races Manikato would contest as a spring three-year-old. Hoysted would then calculate when the horse would be needed back in the stable to prepare for those races. All the big races were to be targeted; a horse like this had never graced Hoysted in 37 years of training. When everything was figured out, the last week of May was when Bon thought he would next see him.

What Bon Hoysted didn’t know was that he would not lay eyes on Manikato again.