the peoples' champion.

​The Racing Post is doing another of its polls. This time they want Racing Post readers to nominate their favourite racehorse of all-time. Not the best horse of all-time, a poll they conducted in the past and which it was far easier to choose a nomination. This time round it will be agonising to decide between former favourites and current favourites. The only aspect of the choice that is easy to predict is that my nomination will be a gelding and from National Hunt.
This time around I will not be choosing Arkle. ‘Himself’ remains the greatest racehorse of British and Irish history and will, I suspect, remain so for ever more as modern racehorses have far easier tasks set them, allowing for no performances that defy reason. Of recent years only Trueshan’s Northumberland Plate victory comes close to the weights Arkle gave away in the major handicaps. Though on reflection, Denman’s two Hennessey Chase wins are a modern equivalent. Arkle did hump 12st 7Ib to his handicap victories, giving away 2-st or more to his rivals. So its not even a case of apples or pears.
Having read about the life of Brown Jack in R.C. Lyle’s biography of the great stayer, he is a favourite of mine. We lived, though, in different eras and in fairness to the horses that have won my heart during my lifetime, I cannot nominate him. I hope someone does. He deserves to be remembered.
On the flat Brigadier Gerard, Persian Punch and Frankel have warmed the cockles of my heart, though I cannot, hand on heart, claim them as favourites, not in the sense they have rendered my heart to flutter in astonishment and pure love.
Spanish Steps was my first love and if the correspondence I receive is anything to go, he will be near the top of the poll and in my list of favourites he is above his frequent conqueror Red Rum in my personal list of nominations. Spanish Steps personified the golden age of steeplechasing in this country. He emerged at a time when the exploits of Arkle, Mill House and Flyingbolt were recent memories. He was short of their stature, yet he was a mainstay of all the major steeplechases. Michael Tanner did not write a biography of the great horse; he wrote a 100-page love-letter to the horse. ‘My Friend, Spanish Steps. How I envy his association with the horse
Spanish Step’s dam, Tiberetta, is one of those mares whose name is synonymous with National Hunt. Both were owned by Edward Courage, a wheelchair-bound permit trainer and benefactor of the sport. ‘Steps’ wasn’t overly-big, though he had a heart of a lion. He won 16 of his 78 races and was placed in 29, including in 3 Grand Nationals, breaking the existing course record in 1973 in the greatest horse race ever run (the Racing Post poll for the greatest race ever run got it wrong) behind Red Rum, Crisp and L’Escargot. He’s in my heart and will be until I draw my last breath.
But then Denman came along and stole my heart, if only for then. I acknowledge that Arkle is the greatest racehorse of all time and I will defend his reputation till the day I die and my everlasting hope is that I will see his like again. Constitution Hill, though he possesses the look of a champion, will never exceed Arkle as it is highly doubtful if he will ever even compete in a handicap, let alone allow a comparison with the heroic deeds of Arkle. When Denman won his Gold Cup I believed, or allowed myself to believe, we had, at least, a successor to the great horse. His heart condition blew that hope out of the water, yet, due to the brilliance of his trainer, he came back 2-years after his Gold Cup triumph and won a second Hennessey. Fate disallowed him the mantle of the ‘best since Arkle’, a crown that his stable-mate Kauto Star took to his grave with him. I loved Kauto; I worshipped Denman.
Then there is Sprinter Sacre and that day in 2016 when he reclaimed his 2-mile crown 3-years after his inaugural victory, finally overcoming the same heart condition that befell Denman. It is my favourite race of my lifetime and, yes, no matter how many replays of the race I watch, it still renders me to tears. I have no doubt that next to Arkle, in his pomp Sprinter Sacre was the closest we have ever come to a ‘greatest of all-time’, yet, again, as with Denman, fate robbed us of what might have been.
But this accolade is not about the best, it is about horses that have touched our hearts and remain central to our memories. Dublin Flyer is such a horse; a horse I wanted to win every time, a horse that would be in the running for a poll of the best jumper of a fence. The Dikler was a horse I adored, a horse that might have won a Grand National if he had been given the opportunity earlier in his career.
At present, I love Goshen and hope every time he runs that he’ll either delight with his eccentricities or win for the Moores’ and his devoted followers. And then there is Frodon.
Where Spanish Steps was my first love and, I suspect, the horse I will vote for, Frodon will be my last love. He exudes a love for life and I would like to have an Animal Rising supporter sit down to watch Frodon race and then explain how he or she believes that he is being forced to jump and race. No horse has ever exemplified the wonder of the sport as Frodon does. Yes, he never was a truly great horse and last season showed he is on the downward slope to retirement. But his exploits deserve a book to be written about his life and his win in the Ryanair will remain part and parcel of Cheltenham Festival history.
I’m going to give this matter some thought, although my final choice will come not from my head but from my heart. It’s either Spanish Steps or Frodon. It’s like having to choose your favourite child, isn’t it?
I will return to this subject; hopefully to do a better job of determining my true thoughts.