The Sport of Queens by Francis Dick

Author:Francis, Dick [Francis, Dick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Autobiography
Published: 2012-01-15T11:19:46+00:00

It is impossible for jockeys not to have strong preferences, and of all Lord Bicester's great horses I enjoyed riding Finnure most. These feelings were not shared by Tim Molony, who championed Roimond, or by his brother Martin, who liked Silver Fame best of the three.

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Finnure was a big chestnut of high quality, beautifully proportioned, and very intelligent. It gave me great pleasure just to sit on his back and look forward between his alertly pricked ears. In addition, he jumped with tremendous power, and his speed from the last fence was deeply exciting. Urging him home along the straight was like pressing the accelerator of a high-powered car; he passed everything in sight.

Before the Grand National of I951, I rode Finnure in seven races, and he won all of them except two. On our first attempt he fell, being fresh from Ireland and unused to English fences; and he was once unplaced at Hurst Park, finding the track too sharp for him.

The five successful races included the Champion Chase at Liverpool, which he won by a length from Coloured School Boy, ridden by that excellent Aintree jockey, Arthur Thompson. Arthur and I had jumped every fence side by side for two miles, and it was only Finnure's burst of speed on the flat which won him the race.

His greatest trial, and, I think, his greatest race ever, was the King George VI Chase at Kempton on Boxing Day, 1949. Here his chief opponent was the great Irish horse, Cottage Rake, winner of three Gold Cups at Cheltenham, and, until then, unbeaten over fences in England. It was Cottage Rake who had beaten Roimond in the same race the year before, and many people considered him invincible.

During most of the race I kept Finnure in the middle of the field, going along comfortably with plenty in hand, and intending to move up to the leaders as we turned into the straight for the last time. Unfortunately Cottage Rake's jockey, Aubrey Brabazon, had the same idea at the same time, and I found myself tracking him over the last two fences.

Once over the last, half a length behind, I asked Finnure for his greatest effort, and after a terrific struggle all the way to the post, he got his head in front and won by half a length.

The tremendous thrill and satisfaction of winning such a race produced a sort of choking feeling in the throat, so that between joy and exhaustion, I could hardly speak, when Lord Bicester greeted us in the unsaddling enclosure.

A year later, Finnure ran in the Grand National, and I have never gone out to ride in the race with greater hope than I did that day. My splendid mount had already won at 86

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Liverpool, and had jumped round the course with confidence. I was sure he would stay the longer distance, and I thought that if all went well, his speed at the end would be decisive.

All, however, went very far from well.

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