Senor Santa
Today’s Gr2 Senor Santa Handicap at Turffontein is named in honour of a champion sprinter.
Northern Guest’s best sprinting son, Senor Santa reigned as the Champion Sprinter of South Africa for many seasons and won his final Gr1 as an eight year old.
The old warrior, who lived out the bulk of his retirement days as a “tutor” to the Summerhill weanlings, is remembered for his seven Group One victories including two Computaform Sprints, two Star Sprints, a Natal Flying Championship, the First National Bank (1600m), and a Smirnoff Futurity.
His victims included Champions Goldmark, Divine Act, Miss Averof, Harry’s Echo and Simonside.
As memorable a moment as any though, came in defeat in the Winning Form Match Race Challenge, in which, ironically, his lack of stamina cost him the race in the dying strides by Northern Guest’s most celebrated daughter, Northern Princess.
He was euthanized on 23 June 2014.
Mick Goss wrote:
‘Senor Santa’s story is straightforward: he earned his place at Summerhill because he happened to be the best racing son of the best stallion ever to stand here.
He earned it too, because he happened to one of the “nicest” guys in racing. Strange for a fellow who cobbled together as many seven Group One victories in a five season campaign.
Senor Santa wins the 1993 Gr1 Computaform Sprint
That’s just scratching the surface though, because it belies the fact that his Group One victories extended from 1000 to 1600 metres, and they were earned at the height of a golden era of South African speed merchants. They say you can’t give start in a 1000 metre sprint, but Senor Santa did so every time he faced the starter, and we wonder whether he ever passed third gear running them down from the back of the pack. They also say that “nice guys” come second in life, but here again, he was the golden exception.
Then they said he wouldn’t get the 1600 metres of the Germiston November Handicap and they left him out, hence his famous match race with the winner of that year’s event, Northern Princess, ironically a daughter of his own sire Northern Guest.
His drawing power was such that on a day when there was a cricket test at Kingsmead, a surfing international at North Beach and the usual distractions of New Year’s Day, Senor Santa packed them into Greyville for the “match” so that only the July outpointed him for attendance.
Truth is, whatever they said, he said otherwise.
He was 29 when Dr Bechard saved him from the agony of the arthritis that finally got him, and the only humane thing we could do was to end it all as gently and as kindly as we could.’
