‘In the end, no matter how astonishing their numbers, great horses were remembered for something more …. It was a feeling that they gave you, a belief in something bigger than yourself. They were a reminder – if only for an instant – that some bright, wordless magic still existed in the world’ – Jane Schwartz / Ruffian
As we are all too aware, South African racing is conducted to a rather discordant soundtrack these days and there seems to be as much jockeying going on in the boardrooms as there does on the course! While the machinations of administration are fun and fascinating, I would like to put all that aside for today and just indulge myself in the sheer joy and beauty of the Thoroughbred.
I may not know a great deal about many things, but I am exceptionally blessed to have some wonderful friends. Through someone who is fast approaching the heady heights at the top of my Christmas card list, I was invited to Kenilworth on Saturday morning to watch the current inhabitants of the quarantine station take their morning stroll.
It was one of those perfect Cape Town mornings. Warm, but not yet hot, with the most beautiful duck egg blue sky. In a little clearing in the middle of the course the group of horses was out walking, stretching their legs in the morning sunshine.
To the casual observer, it might have looked like just an ordinary group of horses, in ordinary tack being ridden by ordinary grooms. However, the close proximity to the Kenilworth quarantine station lent an air of gravity to the scene. We kept a respectful distance in order to observe the quarantine regulations, but out of the group certain faces and outlines started looking familiar and my pulse quickened.
I have never been one to be too impressed by fame or celebrity and not being a star gazer have never given much thought to words like ‘presence’ or ‘star quality’, dismissing them as so much tabloid nonsense. Until, that is, the day I passed Bill Clinton on a street in London. Working in the heart of the tourist capital, I was pretty used to crowds, so the unusual throng of people proved an annoyance rather than a curiosity. When I finally looked around to see what the source of all the commotion was, my eyes were involuntarily drawn to a distinguished, silver-haired gentleman quietly making his way through the middle of the crowd. There was no fanfare and no fuss – he was simply a man walking in a perfectly ordinary manner up a perfectly ordinary street, but I can only describe his presence, even from 20 feet away, as magnetic.
I get a kick out of being around pretty much any horse, but the combined star qualities of the horses on show was heady to say the least. Apart from their exciting and impressive statistics, I was particularly impressed by what superb physical specimens they all were. And their demeanor carried just that little bit more grace, more self-assurance, more je ne sais quoi to elevate and set them apart from the ordinary.
I picked out River Jetez, so like her famous brother; the impossibly beautiful Ancestral Fore; the broad forehead of Bold Silvano and the distinctive irregular markings which could only belong to Orbison. Noble Heir, who I am told is the staff favourite, picked her way delicately, placing each foot carefully and deliberately.
With such a stellar line-up, it is hard to choose just one (and my apologies to the other horses as every single one is fabulous and deserves a mention in their own right), but as the Quality Street catchphrase goes, everyone has a favourite favourite. And sure enough, there he was. The bright bay with the little star. Not the biggest of the bunch, but all business. JJ The Jet Plane.
From my vantage point on the sidelines, he was a touch smaller than I expected, but strong and surprisingly heavy-set. The term pugilist unexpectedly sprang to mind. And there’s no question he’s a fighter. From humble beginnings, he has fought his way to where he is today. After a successful juvenile career in South Africa, international challenges beckoned. Denied access to Hong Kong due to draconian import regulations, he redirected his energies, earning accolades in Dubai and England before returning home for two more Grade 1 victories. He moves energetically and with intent, his eye is bright and you know he is not missing a trick. The term ‘the look of eagles’ is often used to describe particularly noble specimens and JJ has it. The eagle is looking toward the Cathay Pacific Sprint in Hong Kong on 12 December. And this time he won’t be denied.
It is an arduous journey. This group has already completed their compulsory quarantine period at Kenilworth. They will fly out on Thursday evening and after a quick refueling stop in Libya, will touch down at Stansted on Friday morning. Those bound for even more exotic shores will need to serve an additional 30 days in England before being eligible for further passage.
JJ will ship to Hong Kong in late November, whilst Bold Silvano, Irish Flame, River Jetez, Orbison, et al are aiming for the 2011 Dubai International Racing Carnival which kicks off on 13 January. Afterwards, Patrick Shaw’s Lizarre is heading to Singapore and Clearly Silver (owned by the MD of the Shanghai Jockey Club) is bound for Hong Kong.
With the World Cup becoming a distant memory and our new-found patriotism ebbing away with the last of the tickertape, seeing this magnificent collection of homebred talent made me feel very proudly South African again.
It is amazing to think that this elite assembly has been bred and produced on South African soil and to see them heading off to far flung corners of the globe to fly the flag (and hopefully bloody some noses) is incredibly exciting and inspirational. As a product, the South African race horse is an absolute credit to our local breeding and racing industry and one of which we can and should be very proud. With representatives in the USA, England, UAE, Hong Kong and Singapore, we are slowly, but steadily increasing our equine presence abroad and every individual increases the awareness and interest in our local market. I am sure I am not alone in wishing them all safe and prosperous journeys and hopefully a triumphant return home at the end of their exploits.
But getting back to my morning jaunt. I still cannot believe that the very cream of the South African racing crop are all assembled in one place and that I have been privileged enough to see them. I have to pinch myself to make sure it’s real and scarcely want to breathe out in case they all suddenly disappear. Which, sadly, they do all too soon. Striding off back to their stables at the quarantine station.
John Glasworthy said ‘I am still under the impression that there is nothing alive quite so beautiful as a Thoroughbred horse’. And a beautiful Thoroughbred really is a feast not only for the eyes – it somehow does you good on the inside too.
Well, if a horse can be judged on its greatness by the feeling it gives you inside, then all I can say is that our horses make you feel good. Very good indeed.
