Winning the Derby on Three Legs

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 380, 14 June 1928, Page 6

Winning the Derby on Three Legs

SUNSTAR’S PERFORMANCE OWNER’S ANXIOUS TIME After his vpnderful success In the Two Thousand Guineas, Sunstar was high in public fancy for the Derby of 1911. The extracts given below from Charles Morton’s (the ex-English trainer) story of his 60 years’ association with the turf gives some idea of the suspense animating Mr. J. B. Joel’s stables when nine days before the Epsom classic Sunstar went lame. “Sunstar,” he writes, “literally won the race on three legs, a raging hot favourite with millions of pounds bet on him by people who had never fully known the real truth of the rumours that were rife. He came back to the paddock lame, and could hardly walk to his stable. . . . Sunstar never ran again.” To Win a Fortune All went merrily as the proverbial marriage bell until nine days before the Derby. Even the springy turf at Wantage had grown harder and harder and the air was full of thunder, which kept me in a continual state of foreboding. Sunstar had become a raging hot favourite for the Derby and Mr. Joel and his friends stood to win a fortune. I knew, of course, that at any time Sunstar of any other horse might go lame. One morning after doing a mile and a-quarter exercise gallop, what I dreaded took place. Sunstar pulled up so lame that he could hardly put his foot to the ground. Fortunately the other horses were some distance away, and I said to the boy who was riding him: “Let him go on." The boy looked at me as though I were not in my right senses, but he went on, when I again told him to stop. “All right,” I said. “Now I don’t want you to tell anybody about this. It may be nothing and we don’t want any scares in the newspapers. This horse has been backed to win a fortune. If you keep quiet there will be a nice present for you. If you don’t there’ll be nothing.”

I had very good reasons for wanting to keep this sensational mishap a secret. There are thousands of people ready to believe that if a Derby favourite goes wrong the owner and everybody connected with the apimal have made untold sums by laying against the horse. Heaven alone knows why they should think such a thing, ' but they do, and therefore I much preferred to say nothing about Sunstar’s breakdown until I knew for certain that he would be unable to run in the Derby. The boy faithfully promised me to say nothing. When I got back to the stables I examined Sunstar and found that he had strained his suspensory ligaments. It was just a toss-up whether or not I could get him to the post. Crocked Up! I immediately got on the telephone to Mr. Joel. .“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Can you stand a shock?” “Yes,” he said, “what is it?” “The horse has crocked up.” “Good God,” he said. “Is it hopeless?” “I’m afraid so,” I answered, feeling just about as miserable as any man could feel when he sees a great prize slowly slipping from his grasp. “But I shouldn’t breathe a word to anybody just now. If I can get him to the post he might win even then. He is so fit that only an absolute breakdown can stop him. In any ease,” I added, “don’t despair. I may be able to exercise him twice a day without putting any great strain upon him, I’ll get him to the post somehow and then no one can say we haven’t done our host.” The Trainer’s Duty It may be thought to be an extraordinary thing to even dream of running a lame horse in the Derby, but I was in the somewhat invidious position of training the animal who might be patched up to win just one more race and then, whatever happened, to write finis to his career. The trainer of the Derby favourite is something like a public trustee; it is his bounden duty to deliver the horse at the post ready to run for his life. I could hardly do this with Sunstar because he was already lame, but I might achieve a slight miracle and get him sound enough to run one last race so that his owner might keep faith with the thousands of people who had backed him to win. I knew for certain, win or lose, that it would be Sunstar’s last race. Mr. Joel himself gave no thought whatever to any loss he might incur by the horse being scratched. He instructed me to spare neither pains nor expense to get rid of the lameness sufficiently to allow the horse to run. Owner’s Sacrifice Day and night I spent with Sunstar, treating his legs, never knowing from one moment to the next when he would break down for good. Somehow or other the news got out and the ring began to lay against him. Mr. Joel retaliated by backing his horse more heavily still and the situation resolved itself into a desperate struggle to patch up Sunstar so that we might give the public a run for their money. I had to do a certain amount of work with him, but I did not think he could possibly have a chance of winning. In my own mind I could see the field coming down the hill to Tattenham Corner with Sunstar pulling up lame and hobbling in an ignominious last to the groans of the multitude. All sorts of tales were rife about what was wrong with him. If it had become generally known that he had broken down badly everyone would have at once said it was a put-up job. Nobbling The Favourite If this were not enough,' rumours were flying about that Sunstar was going to be nobbled. I never paid much heed to such tales, but I knew what Sunstar’s victory would cost the ring if he won and so I took precautions to guard him. A man remained in the stable yard until midnight, when another man took his place until daylight. We padlocked the favourite’s door, put a flashlight on it and generally indulged in all those safeguards which are so popular with Nat Gould and his numerous successors. The nobbling stories were still filling the air when we arrived at Epsom for

the Derby meeting. I took my horses a« usual to Mr. Goby's establishment and got the local police to keep an eye on the horse, in addition to stationing a man of my own outside the stable door. Over The Rails Then I heard that someone was going to put George Stern over the rails during the race and I think it was then that I laughed for the first time since Sunstar went lame. If there was ever a jockey in this world who had no need to take a nurse round with him, it was George Stern. It brings to my mind a little incident which once took place within my hearing. I happened to be outside the weighing room at Epsom one day and heard a bit of a row going on. “Oh, George, I am so sorry/* said a pleading voice. “I didn’t mean to do it.” “All right,” replied George, “if you do things like that to me you can expect something.” Slightly interested, I walked in to find the late W. Saxby looking very sorry for himself. After I got outside I asked George Stern what the trouble was. “He tried to put me over the rails. Pie was ten yards away and he came bang at me and if my horse had not been strong on his legs I would have gone over.” Turned The Trick But apart from this I knew from another experience that if there was any rough and tumble afoot my friend George could look after himself as well as the next man. In the St. Leger of 1906 we had a horse called Prince William, ridden by W. Halsey. It looked 100 to 1 on his winning when just on the post, George Stern on the Duke of Westminster’s Troutbeek beat him by a short head. How he did it will corroborate what I say that he was not in want of a chaperon. In the last few strides when the horses were almost dead on on the post he caught Prince William’s rein and jerked his head just suffice iently to allow Troutbeek to win the most exciting race I have ever seen. It was scandalous, of course, and everybody shouted that there would be an objection. When Halsey came in he wanted to lodge a protest but I afterwards persuaded him to change his mind. It is one of the unwritten laws of racing not to object in classic events. Anyhow, I have nothing more to say about the matter except that George Stern was always a jockey I liked to have on my side and he amply compensated us afterwards for anything he may have done in 1906. A more fearless rider I never know. If he wanted a get into any particular position in a race he usually got there. Before the Derby was run a fellowtrainer said to me: “I bet you anything you like that when they reach the straight your horse will be on the inside.” And so he was. Series of Sensations Sensations continued without cessation. On the morning of the Derby it was tremendously hot. England seemed full of rumours about Sunstar being lame and unable to run. Scores of people professed to know that the horse had been nobbled, that the bookmakers had got hold of niui and that anything might happen. I spent a busy morning opening dozens upon dozens of telegrams from various friends and well-wishers, some of them wishing me luck, others again requiring my definite assurance about Sunstar winning. To cap it all there came a telegram from a gentleman, who said: “Do not be dismayed by rumours to the detriment of your horse. I dreamed last night that he would win and I am a good dreamer.” Sunstar started a very warm favourite (a shade better than Red Fuchsia’s Ellerslie’s price last week), and won by two lengths from Stedfast (sire of Musketoon).