Mark Boylan (photo: Dave Boylan)
In the world of sporting amphitheatres, the Cheltenham Festival is unparalleled. United I stand amongst 67,000 of my fellow Cheltenham counterparts – who too understand the importance of these four days – and join in the glorious chorus of anticipation that greets the curtain-raiser of the meeting. For over the next four hope-filled, reality-defying days, more than 260,000 emotionally invested spectators will arrive at the racing place that God created, with an unquenchable thirst for equine brilliance. As the roar from racing dreamers reaches the heavens, all ambitions are alive, champions to be crowned and pulses to be tested. Quite simply, there is nothing on this planet that compares to the Cheltenham Festival, writes Mark Boylan.
Annie Power
The four-day extravaganza burst into life as 32 years on from Dawn Run’s triumph, Annie Power made history in becoming only the fourth mare to win the Champion Hurdle; with Willie Mullins emulating the feat of his father. As is almost an annual ritual by now, chants of “Ruby, Ruby, Ruby” rung out from the Cheltenham faithful as they welcomed back winning rider Walsh amidst a barrage of flying hats and airborne newspapers. For as impressive and as admirable as Annie Power’s performance was, Walsh worked wonders once again under a Dawn Run-esque ride and in celebration, looked to exorcise the demons of twelve months ago. As one of the most intelligent and informative men in the sport, Ruby has surely heard plenty of the nonsensical discourse surrounding his final flight misdemeanours and I for one was thrilled to see him relish the victory with blatant emotion.
Sprinter Sacre
The valiant Sprinter Sacre (photo: Dave Boylan)
There is certainly truth in the saying “the greatest pleasure in life is doing what others say you cannot do” and plenty (including yours truly) could never see the once invincible Sprinter Sacre return to his former glory. But this great sport has the ability to produce moments you wouldn’t dare to dream of. And on Wednesday afternoon, Sprinter Sacre danced with destiny on the day when impossibility met immortality and ‘the black aeroplane’ became champion once again.
As Nicky Henderson’s pride and joy paraded before the crowd he had made his own, the heart questioned the head whether victory for the injury-laden superstar would be scarcely believable. Making a sweeping move after the third-last, the hopeless romantic in each and every one of us roared the racing legend on as he drew level with odds-on favourite Un De Sceaux. In truth, if you weren’t on the edge of your seat rounding the home turn – then this isn’t the sport for you. Soaring over the second-last, I look away from the big screen momentarily to ensure that I’m not dreaming, witnessing the mayhem all around me. Myself and the old man beside me continue to bash the railing – looking far more animated in the closing stages than jockey Nico de Boinville. After clearing the final fence, the Cheltenham hill turns into a blur of red and blue tears with the racing nation showing their unashamed emotion and adoration for their equine hero. The most phenomenal reception greets him in his beloved Cheltenham winner’s enclosure full of deafening applause, rapturous roars and three cheers that surely struck the Richter scale. “They don’t come back, do they”? It’s true that Sprinter Sacre’s heart was irregular – they’d never seen a horse with one so full of toughness, bravery and courage in the face of adversity. All hail Sprinter Sacre and the miracle man Nicky Henderson. A Lazarus-like comeback at the equine theatre of dreams.
Vautour and Thistlecrack
Vautour (photo: Dave Boylan)
Thursday’s action saw two spectacular performances of equine majesty in the shape of Vautour and Thistlecrack. Despite competing over fences and hurdles respectively, both horses could be targeting for a tilt at the 2017 Gold Cup after annihilating Grade One opposition. Regular readers of this column will be familiar that I have been firmly in the Gold Cup camp for Vautour rather than the Ryanair Chase at this year’s Festival, and the nature in which the star chaser’s diversion was handled certainly leaves a bad taste for racing fans. However, this shouldn’t take away from the monumental display of Rich Ricci’s superstar on Thursday, even though the atmosphere in the winner’s enclosure was certainly a little more subdued than usual for such a staggering performance. There was no such issue for Colin Tizzard’s Thistlecrack who was warmly received by the Cheltenham crowd after his rout in the World Hurdle under Tom Scudamore. The sky is the limit for this hugely popular hurdler for whom a career over the larger obstacles beckons next season.
Joseph O’Brien
Joseph O’Brien’s first Cheltenham winner – Ivanovich Gorbatov (photo: Dave Boylan)
The pinnacle of the National Hunt calendar is the Cheltenham Gold Cup which this year saw the age-old rivalry between Ireland and Britain renewed again, with strong chances from both sides of the Irish Sea. However, the day started with an outstanding achievement from 22-year-old flat jockey turned jumps trainer Joseph O’Brien as Ivanovich Gorbatov stormed up the Cheltenham hill to victory in the Triumph Hurdle.
I have always held Joseph in the highest regard both as a jockey and as an individual, but following the announcement of his retirement from the saddle after a long battle with the scales, I couldn’t help but feel that racing had lost a riding talent. At his age, he had already ridden 518 winners, 31 in Group One company and 91 in total at group level – one wonders how good Joseph could have progressed to be if nature had been kinder to him with a less challenging build. I would be hugely surprised if any of the world’s finest riders had reached their peak at the age of 22.
Despite his departure from the saddle, his record so far as a trainer with a remarkable 60-70 horses in his care, makes him a real danger to the likes of Willie Mullins and Gordon Elliott in years to come.
Don Cossack
Don Cossack delivers in the 2016 Cheltenham Gold Cup (photo: Dave Boylan)
Speaking of Elliott, the Meath-maestro’s Don Cossack delivered on the biggest stage in jump racing when landing the Cheltenham Gold Cup a few hours later. The Gigginstown House Stud’s gelding powered away from fellow Irish raider Djakadam, posting one of the most impressive Gold Cup victories in the last decade. Special credit should be given to jockey Bryan Cooper who savoured the victory in style following criticism from some in racing circles, a disappointing meeting twelve months previous and vindication in deciding to ride Don Cossack over Don Poli. Enormous respect is deserved for Cooper who, in the greatest moment of his career, took time to remember his roots in paying tribute to the late Dessie Hughes.
Although plenty hold the opinion that Cue Card travelled with the zest of a Gold Cup winner before falling three fences from home, I don’t think it’s fair to say with any great certainty that he would have denied Don Cossack glory in the Blue Riband. It wasn’t the only jumping error from Colin Tizzard’s stable star by any means, and the acceleration of Bryan Cooper’s mount on the home turn would surely have got Cue Card in trouble, as he did to Djakadam. In the passing hours and days after the Gold Cup, I have read plenty on how unlucky Cue Card was in coming down when bidding for glory, certainly far more than was written when Don Cossack parted company with Cooper in the closing stages of the King George. Don Cossack is the undisputed Gold Cup champion for 2016, and by God, it’ll take a performance of the highest quality to take away his crown next year.
Girl power
Nina Carberry salutes from On The Fringe (photo: Dave Boylan)
In the melee of media attention surrounding Victoria Pendelton’s superb effort in the Foxhunter Chase, not enough credit was given to winning jockey Nina Carberry, who’s outstanding ride aboard On The Fringe surely cemented her place as the greatest female National Hunt rider of all-time (not that there was any doubt before). Carberry’s power-packed display of unbridled horsemanship was pure poetry, a ride that Messrs McCoy, Walsh or Geraghty would be undoubtedly proud of. And although Pendelton should be heralded for her brave display, there is only one queen of Cleeve Hill – and I for one count myself lucky to have seen her at the zenith of her career.
For all those who live and breathe for these four days and have the indelible bug of infatuation for the place known as Prestbury Park – the post-Cheltenham blues have already set in. The heavy heart is longing for next year’s meeting, but the year-long waiting and wishing for Cheltenham makes it all the more special. For no matter what the next twelve months bring and whatever way our fortunes may go, Cheltenham is one of those rare constants in life in which we can depend on. A place of agony and ecstasy with the ability to send shivers to every fibre of your being in a single stride; an arena like no other. And for those who dare to dream that racing can bring us on a journey to larger than life emotions – welcome home.
