UNFORGETTABLE SIGHT

Mt Benger Mail, 23 November 1938, Page 2

UNFORGETTABLE SIGHT

MELBOURNE CUP DAY New Zealander’s Impressions “As the horses entered the straight something really strange happened. The old ‘rocking horse’ from New Zealand, as Catalogue had been dubbed, was in front and drawing- away. The crowd lost its enthusiasm. Most of them did not know who Catalogue was. The only New Zealander they were interested in was Royal Chief, and he was still well back. Calalogue continued to stride away, and won very easily from Bourbon, with a big gap to the third horse, Ortellc’s Star. The crowd by now had been stunned into almost complete silence. The transformation from the early roar was most eerie—there is no other word for it.” This is how Mr Karl Scott, a well-known former New Zealand sporting journalist, described the finish of the Melbourne Cup race .and the feeling that was in the air when Catalogue accounted for Australia’s richest horse race. Mr Scott' stated that Catalogue was well enough received on returning to scale, but astonishment at the victory of this unheralded eight-year-old, one of the blackest of outsiders, had completely numbed the majority. Catalogue was still the most alert horse in the field; no hanging head and faltering stride, as of those following him. He did something resembling a toe dance as he sidled up to the vice-regal party, and kept pricking his ears as his owner, Mrs Jamieson, was presented with the Cup. A Melbourne Cup winner trained by a woman and owned by a woman was something new for the public. Catalogue had also broke a Cup hoodoo on No. 5 saddlecloth, and the fact that he was the first aged horse for 34 years to win was commented upon freely. Even Wotan’s win two years ago at 100 to 1 was completely eclipsed. But the crowd agreed it was a noble victory.

“I went to Flemiligton early, but is was not early enough,’' remarked Mr Scott. “Being determined to see my first Melbourne Cup .under the best available conditions, I arrived there 20 minutes before the first race and made straight for the main public stand. I found to my surprise that every seat was already occupied or tentatively reserved and not a single person inclined to shift. Like me, they had come to see the cup, not just to hear the cheering and see the numbers go up, as thousands have to. I had to accept a small space on the concrete steps between the rows of seats, and soon even these places were at a premium. There we all sat for two and a-half hours, and a heavy shower in the open part of the stand did [not dampen our enthusiasm.

“The Melbourne Cup, the greatest horse race in the Southern Hemisphere, was watched this year by a crowd of 100,000 people packed together in a space almost incredibly small for such a mass of humanity,” he said. “The race is a great Australian institution. It is responsible for some £3,000,000 worth of betting every year in Australia alone.” For SO years the Melbourne Cup had been building up a glorious todition. At 3.30 o’clock all overAustralia everyone stopped work to watch or hear the MelbocrncCup race. The love of horses and gambling was even more deeplyingrained in Australians than in New Zealanders, which was saying a great deal.

People near him in the stand drew his attention to a trooper and his prancing steed on the inside of the course, said Mr Scott. The horse, lusty, shining and perfectly groomed, was Shadow King, looking on as an honoured hack at a race in Which he had been placed more times than any other horse in the history of the event.

As the great moment drew near the crowd on the lawns packed in like sardines. There was an official crowd of 100,000, but there must have been another 30,000 in neighbouring paddocks and hillsides. Every possible vantage point, inside and outside the course, was occupied, he said. “The parade lasted little more than three minutes, but in that, short period many more thousands of pounds went into the bookmakers’ bags and the

Australians were noted for their lung power and strong voices, and the cry the crowd put up as the race started fairly rocked the atmosphere. There was a rising tumult of sound as the race progressed, reaching a crescendo as the final stages of the race were approached. Then the cheering commenced to die down. A little known outsider was leading the field home.

' ''‘One hundred thousand people jm glorious Flemington, 25.000 motor cars, 800 tea-room attendants, more trains, buses and taxis than run in the whole of New Zealand in a day, and a New Zealand horse and owner the presiding figures at the climax of all this. The word ‘colossal’ best describes something really unforgettable,” said Mr Scott.