by Brian Cain
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
The British Grand National is a hunt horse race held annually at Aintree racecourse near Liverpool England. The race was initially run in the year 1839, it is a handicap steeplechase of just over four miles or six point nine kilometres. horse and rider have to negotiate 30 fences over two laps of the Aintree course. It is the most valuable jump race in Europe, with a prize fund of one million pounds. An event that is prominent in British culture, the race is popular amongst many people who do not normally watch or bet on horse racing at other times of the year, similar to the Melbourne Cup in Australia.
The course over which the race is run features much larger fences than those found on conventional National Hunt tracks. Many of these such as Bechers Brook, The Chair and Canal Turn, have become household names, combined with the distance of the event, create what is considered the ultimate test for horse and rider.
The British Grand National is broadcast live, an estimated five hundred to six hundred million people, they watch the Grand National in over one hundred and forty countries worldwide. It has also been broadcast on radio since 1927 generally by the BBC. Commentary is done in so many languages it is claimed to be the most multicultural televised sporting event on the planet.
Despite it's popularity over it's history it has been burdened with condemnation and ridicule, in the last fifteen years it has seen many changes that equate to safer and more humane approaches on how the race is conducted. There is still pressure being applied to eradicate jump racing, but it's popularity and professionalism prevail. It has been won by as many rank outsiders that struggled to make the grade, as flamboyant wealthy stakeholders that have no other agenda than making sure aristocracy and wealth prevail.
One thing is prominently obvious after each race, it is the horse that is held in admiration and respect, it's bloodline and officiating owners are left in the wake of what are usually battling opinions of politics and one upmanship. This book is for every horse that could have made the grade had someone had faith and diligence, this book is for all the Flaxmead's that have been sacrificed to indignant opinion, that means nothing when they stare into the face of a champion.
It was very early in the morning of the April day that had the worlds sight and sounds focused on forty horses at Aintree racecourse in not far from Liverpool in the British midlands, the sun had not yet come up. Lee Hayford stationed in Bristol controlling the press and media had no immediate answer when a snap question on Taunton Barr's form was suddenly thrown at her amid scuffling journalists and cameras, she held face but thought for a few seconds. There was a communication blackout for all in the Blake stable, there was no way information could be passed to Lee and her father trusted her experience and bloodline. 'Probably a ploy by certain aspects of commercialism that would benefit from such unsolicited information.'
The journo fired back at her, the pack was silent. 'Journalists Grant Balderdash and Levin Graceless were at Blake's operation yesterday, they witnessed a scorching run by Taunton Barr on the training facilities hunt track. They report and quote by Grant Balderdash, I was scared by the Taunton Barr's aggressive performance when pacing past me within a few yards, I withdrew in fear. And Graceless states he timed the horse himself, it ran over a second faster than the quickest time stated by the Blake stable for the hunt training track. Why would Blake suddenly invite these journalists to a training session, sounds like Blake to me and the reports sound more like Taunton Barr than many others I have been sent over the past weeks.'
Hayford didn't hesitate. 'I know nothing of Balderdash or Graceless being on our training grounds, all I can do is suggest Taunton Barr's form has not changed but will still run.'
Bookie Bret Hafflinger was present, he had also read the reports by Balderdash and Graceless, he raised his hand and Lee was interested to hear what he had to say, she pointed to him from the raised stage overlooking the gathered. 'I have Taunton Barr twenty to one, if these reports are true I have already taken thousands of bets at odds that would send me broke.'
Lee again didn't hesitate and with a smile. 'We don't pass comment on matters of commercial interest, like the stock market bets are often controlled and set by the investing public. We can only supply information of the time to better allow people to make their own decision, I'm sure you understand that Mr Hafflinger.'
Hafflinger stormed from the meeting with a scowl. Lee gave the floor to a journalist she knew nothing of. 'All of your fathers entries apart from Taunton Barr have been scratched, the only horse left is one that appears to have insufficient current form to perform, have all horses been struck with the same thing that currently dogs Taunton Barr.'
'That's a good question apart from the mention of my father, as I, my father makes decisions on the welfare of many things. The well being of jockeys and mounts, the affect on commercial enterprise coveted by the Blake stables that are of course extensive. People affected by information and form in the negative are always derogatory of things that may affect them as we have just witnessed in this arena. My father as he has been mentioned has made many decisions on gut feel, over his life I believe he has earned the right to make decisions that should be taken seriously. If he makes the call a horse called Taunton Barr should be the only mount that represents us in the grand national, and people disrespect that call based purely on a financial forum, it is their decision not my fathers that would invite catastrophe.'
'So you are saying that Taunton Barr will win the national.'
'Why an earth would we enter the horse if we didn't believe it could win.'
'That's I just asked you.'
'And I answered the question, you are not listening.'
'I'm confused.'
'It's your job as mine to inform the masses, we are currently doing that.'
'We need to know if the time suggested by journalist Graceless is correct.'
'What if it is.'
'That's what we need know.'
'You are asking me to predict the outcome of a poker card game with forty players, I would suggest the best player regardless of financial status would be a possible front runner.'
'I'm none the wiser.'
'You have not been listening, Taunton Barr will win the national, Lindy Cumberland predicts twenty lengths.'
'That's ridiculous, French entry Moet and Allahabad from Uttar Pradesh have been running faster than Taunton Barr for quite some time now. They both won major hunt races only two weeks ago. We have seen nothing of Taunton Barr apart from reports of runs at Blake's training facility, he has by all reports turned into a donkey.'
Lee smiled and looked directly at the female young female journalist. 'If my father puts a horse on the line in the grand national, it should be that fact and that fact alone that would foster support. You can report on everything else, if you take those things as being supportive of misjudgement or failure, the shock you feel will be devastating when Taunton Barr crosses the line. It would be your own fault or anyone else whom deserted Taunton Barr, a horse otherwise known as Flaxmead. Undefeated champion deserted by the suspicion of poor form, only support in times of hardship can lift all involved. Those whom have deserted him will indeed feel the lash of disappointment when he triumphs and one of them will not be me. Regardless of the facts you question he will remain undefeated. Those whom ran for cover and chose to desert him are the perpetrators of their own doom, they are mainly aristocracy, governing bodies and commercial enterprise. They continue to cloud the issue but this is a two way street. They continue to degrade and have firm belief he is finished, I again insist that this afternoon they will be crushed beneath his hooves. Should the public or the gathered feel otherwise it is because we can, that right should remain for all.'
'How long have you followed Taunton Barr's career.'
'Your only young, most would know but since he ran his first race nearly ten years ago in Australia.'
'I wrote something down while you were talking. It reads I think Taunton Barr will win the grand nati
onal.'
'I think you're right.'
'Has your father ever bet on a horse race.'
'He bet on the Melbourne Cup in Australia once while attending the race with my sister Rose, long before he found Flaxmead. He said it was fun.'
'I think Taunton Barr will win the national, what will happen to the odds currently offered.'
'Not much, mums and dads can only afford a few quid. The real high rollers will avoid the risk, it's not full proof enough.'
'Why.'
'They don't know if I'm lying or not, Moet and Allahabad will remain favourites and bear most high roller backing.'
'Could it be a case of mistaken identity.'
'Absolutely, we have several horses that look like Flaxmead, and several jockeys with the stature of Lindy Cumberland.'
The young girl looked at her notes and bit her bottom lip. 'That could be used as a tool in itself.'
'People sell information that people want to hear, people buy information they like to hear. Stretching the truth is not against the law.'
'So you are aware your father set this up.'
'I'm aware of no such thing, I'm here to deliver a statement on our entry in the grand national later today, I again state, Taunton Barr will win the national, take it or leave it.'
The room had begun to empty, only the young girl remained as others scurried away to report. 'If your dad set this up it's wrong.'
'My father is playing by the rules, the rules need to change, things change all the time. We have to be in it to commit to change, we have to win it to instigate change. The losers are the perpetrators of their own doom, my father has lost many times, he always comes back.'
'How do you know this, you must have planned it with him.'
'No, far from reality, it's what I'd do.'
The young woman left without further word, Lee thanked the TV and radio presenters and was gone.
Winston was up early, he listened to his daughter on the BBC as he watched people milling around in the lights in the stable complex, he lent back to his desk and turned the link off on his computer, he went back to watching out the window, he mumbled. 'And I once questioned her DNA asking for proof, second time I am given a nasty shock.'
It would appear Winston was watching over the loading of Taunton into a float to leave for Aintree, but the truth was much different. Taunton Barr was still sleeping silently in a float parked on Aintree grounds, he was surrounded by mechanic and his friends and Lindy Cumberland slept deeply and silently beside him. Kalika and Cecelia followed the path a float would to Aintree carrying no horse at all and watched by seething eyes, the involved had learnt nothing from the past. The had abandoned, attempted to kill, degraded publicly and finally place no faith in an obvious champion and Blake had used their weakness to his advantage. He stayed at this post until he could no longer watch over them via his informative network. He had to leave, it was only a short time to the start of the race. He had planned to arrive ten minutes before the start and make it obvious to Lindy via the use of his usual helicopter that he was there, horses can also fathom sight and sound. He disliked watching but listened to the commentary during races, all that could be done was done. He heard the chopper circle, it hovered to land beside the house, he walked out into the days sunshine, he looked around at the clear sky and the soft breeze caught his face. It was time.
Weigh in and presentation in the mounting yard had been a handful for Kalika, she struggled with Taunton as he sensed the competitive environment and the odour of competition filled his nostrils. Kalika had to take him to the centre of the green as she was spoken to by track officials. After weigh Lindy appeared and he settled a little, she pulled him down to her level and spoke in a raised tone, it caught the attention of all. Rail position to view the competitors was at a premium and many had to go by the commentators or watch the big screens placed around the open areas. Kalika assisted Lindy into the saddle and Taunton began his sidewalk boogie taunting the opposition and generally scaring all around him. Kalika was near the end of her tether, a clerk of the course on a big grey attempted to enter their space, his horse refused the idea. He summoned Kalika, she unclipped the bridle lead and walked up to him, he lent down. 'Unless you control that mount in a more acceptable manner I will have to ask it be withdrawn for reason of safety.'
Kalika in no mood to negotiate looked daggers at him. 'That's my fathers horse Winston Blake, you want to spend three years in the old Bailey arguing the point or just get out of his way so he can run round the track.'
'He is the last mount here, we have ten minutes to the start of the race, could you lead him to the rail entry.'
'I certainly could if you get off our arse.'
The clerk raised his eyebrows. 'Indeed.'
Lindy dismounted, she grabbed the edge of the bridle and Taunton followed, Kalika walked behind, Lindy broke into a jog, they reached the track rail and again Kalika used her cupped hands to launch Lindy into the saddle. She took the reins and he bolted onto the track in a half uncontrolled match of side walks and circles, she screamed at him and the more he played up the more the crowed roared. Gently heeled his sides with her stirrups, he took off up the track like a rocket. They had come into view of the course commentator's keeping people amused and informed prior to the race call. 'And onto the course finally Taunton Barr, appears to have forgotten he has a four plus mile race to run when he gets to the start line.'
His accomplice butted in. 'In all reality if you look at that horses background and achievements it could probably run the race twice and still win.'
'Well that's a grand statement as of late he's been running backwards.'
'We have reports of the last forty eight hours that would question that.'
'To some degree I agree with you but odds on him have not moved that much, Blake is well known for being unpredictable.'
'He's also well known for winning just about every horse race worth winning on the planet, and this one is worth wining.'
'He's scratched the rest of his field I think he is just admitting defeat.' A helicopter flashed above the mid field and banked around the starting gate near the Lord Sefton Stand, Taunton reared up screaming at the familiar sound. Lindy at last cracked a smile leaning forward to settle her mount and avoid disaster off slipping off her tiny saddle. The chopper was only just below the media air cameras, they focused on Blake's arrival, he remained just above the permitted ceiling height. The chopper landed in the infield, Blake alighted and the chopper quickly made an exit, he place himself near the inside rail on the far side of the course in earshot of commentary. He had his back to the rail and looked over at the start line. The close presence of major grandstands and the sounds of familiar family was a problem as Taunton reacted to all these things happening at once. She had always planned to hold back from the line anticipating her mount as always would be difficult to control, the commentators had to hand over to the race callers as the race was upon them. 'Well regardless of opinion or weather Blake's arrival contravenes track protocol, we are about to find out which horse will be the victor of this years national and I hand over commentary to our two race callers.'
The race callers awaiting their que had been studying the field as it mustered. 'And we are awaiting starters orders, bit of a jumble at present nothing new for this event, forty horses and riders forming a line for the starters. We are a few seconds beyond start time and we should be ready as thing begin to look partly organised, the main pack looking good with the only exception Taunton Barr already responsible for quite an amusing build up to the event start, way very close to the outside rail not a good starting position. Lindy Cumberland struggling to control her mount showing signs of disapproval and stress. I've seen this horse run before and not sure that is a good anomaly of his behaviour. Oh he's turned away from the line but the starter lets them go and we are away in this year national. It's Stargazer that leads the field out on the inside rail followed by Always, Serpentine, Fiddlers Run, Walking Home, J
urassic, Seven Stars, Heartbreaker, Duke, Pot The Black, Allahabad the favourite, a mount from the Indian province of Uttar Pradesh, Moet second favourite the only French entry this year, Tudor, Oslo, Blanco. And Taunton Barr starting several lengths behind the last horse notably racing past the back markers toward the outside of the first fence, he must have passed some thirty runners in a hundred yards and slots in behind Allahabad on the outside of the field as they are upon the first fence. Taunton Barr splits from the outside of the pack goes way wide in just a few yards passing more runners, and as they take the first fence Taunton Barr has gone from stone last to the first hoof to strike the turf at the first. He stays wide and powers on ahead of the pack, Allahabad and Moet kick up in response to the lighting start by the outsider but parts of the pack block progress as Allahabad's jockey weighs heavy on the reins to pull him up with nowhere to go and a bold move toward the outside of the pack to keep track of the leader, Moet edged in alongside goes with the move. A lot of bold moves in the first few hundred of this race. Stargazer still holds the pack behind Taunton Barr, Always, Serpentine, Fiddlers Run, Walking Home, Jurassic, Seven Stars, Heartbreaker, Duke, Pot The Black. The field still banked up right across the track. But it's still the colours of the Blake stable wearing number seven, that of the tiny frame of Lindy Cumberland carrying the heaviest penalty weight ever given in this race. She looks under her arm I notice and shouts at her mount, he responds and eases pace, the pack begins to pass on the inside, Stargazer again takes the lead, and Cumberland muscles Taunton Barr in behind Allahabad now running sixth but ever changing the field spread across the track still twenty wide toward in the middle pack. I am as the rest of the people here somewhat distracted from the body of the race field as we have the three most successful stayers going head to head here. Taunton Barr still the widest horse just to the rear flank of Allahabad with Moet in behind Taunton Barr, they clear the second fence and again it's Taunton Barr that clears the tips and gains ground but Cumberland continues to shout at her mount. The field holds pace steady with Stargazer gaining ground on the pack, Always, Serpentine, Fiddlers Run, Walking Home, Allahabad wide with Taunton Barr and Moet on the outside like shadows. Over the third and Stargazer goes down, taking Always, Serpentine, Fiddlers Run and Walking home with him. A mess of mounts and riders getting to their feet and the big winner is Allahabad now leading the field toward the forth, a massive fall and so early in the race, we are down to thirty five runners. Allahabad swings to the inside fence, Moet follows but Taunton Barr goes wider to the edge of the outside rail, spraying turf cuttings all over the crowd. There is a lot of commotion back at the third, officials and jockeys attending to several falls there I can see nine mounts held up in the fray we are down to thirty one runners, over the forth, hard to say if it is Allahabad, Moet or Taunton Barr that holds the lead as they spread out wide.'
Blake was crouched down listening, he picked at the fresh grass throwing strands away as he listened, he avoided view by studying the grass strands he picked at and mumbled to himself. 'Stay wide princess, run him down on the back straight and stay wide, he will come back at you and the pace will bring more down.'
'Over the fifth and Jurassic, Seven Stars, Heartbreaker, Duke, Tudor, Oslo, Blanco form the pack line all survivors and gaining from the fall at the third. They trail the leaders by five lengths as Allahabad steadies the pace, over the fifth and on to the big one at the sixth Bechers Brook and its Taunton Barr that races into the jump and gains a length in the process taking the lead and Cumberland stays wide obviously holding her mount to purpose. The crowd is deafening, and we loose another two at Bechers twenty nine runners now, and mid field its Harp Of Erin and Indelible both going down along side each other, both up and looing okay now down to twenty six before the seventh jump. Over seven Foinavens on the first turn and again Taunton Barr braver by a big step well wide Allahabad's jockey eyeing Taunton Barr as they gallop toward the eighth Canal Turn, just before turn two and I hand you over to commentary from the back straight commentary box.'
The crowd is deafening well audible over here as well albeit from a distance, they are getting exactly what they want, its Moet makes a move going under Allahabad directly against the rail taking Allahabad's rider by surprise, to focused on the progress of Taunton Barr. And they are into the grandstand straight toward ninth Valentines for the first time. Taunton Barr still sitting way wide and will pass the officials no more than a few yards from view, the crowd screaming their lungs out in favour of the brisk pace. Over Valentines clean as a whistle for Taunton Barr and Cumberland drops the reins and he strides out, Allahabad responds as does Moet as they let the mounts loose, the hardest paced national I have ever witnessed. Four lengths to Taunton Barr as he clings to the outside rail.'
Blake again mumbled as he listened. 'Thank you princess, stay wide, we now find out what he's made of.'
'Allahabad throws down the gauntlet and comes back at the black stallion, I can see Cumberland screaming at the top of her voice as she peers across at Allahabad and Moet clinging to the rail, we can just hear her on the audio of Moet carrying the big screen camera. Over ten and she holds the lead picking up a length, Allahabad and Moet scratch for pace I can see the reins loose, very early in the race for pace of this intensity. You could imagine these mounts and riders think it's over after the first lap. Into eleven and it's Taunton Barr by six lengths, Allahabad matched for pace by Moet into the jump and Moet takes second from the Indian charger. France takes it to the Australian champ gaining ground on Allahabad two lengths, three. Over twelve toward the thirteenth the entire field spread out between two jumps the mid field led by Samoyed pulling away from the wide pack. Jurassic, Seven Stars, Heartbreaker, Duke, Tudor, Oslo, Blanco all still in and close enough should the leaders tire of this incredibly hard pace. Taunton Barr stays wide and turns directly toward the thirteenth, he flashes across it, Moet and Allahabad strike the fence at an angle from the inside and it forces them wide out toward the path of Taunton Barr. They cross toward the inner rail and loose ground to the leader. Samoyed has gained massive amounts of ground along the back straight and is beginning to bear down on Allahabad and Moet. Samoyed is a hundred to one outsider and is bearing down on the best there is, a flashing run in a on the corner. Taunton Barr is already over the chair and approaching the water at Sixteen and I hand it back to the grandstand commentary.
'A commanding lead now as leader Taunton Barr sweeps across the track to the inner rail for the first time clipping the edge the white fence and heading directly back out to the first of the second lap jump one now seventeen. back on the outside rail and along the deafening roar of this capacity crowd. They came to see a champion and the only undefeated runner in this race currently leads the pack. And Cumberland is sitting up slightly and struggling with her mount as he takes fence seventeen, he doesn't like her ideas by the looks. Samoyed out of nowhere and up behind Moet whom has been taken by Allahabad on the inside run of turn four. Over seventeen and Samoyed takes the lead and Moet goes with him. Allahabad kicks up a notch to stay with them, surely this pace has to take its toll. Toward eighteen and into the fray comes Just For Fun over seventeen a few lengths short of Samoyed, both these runners making massive ground in only three or four fences. Cumberland struggles with her mounts pace hard on the reins she thinks as I this pace will not last, they are currently four seconds ahead of the fastest time to this point ever run. And two more down at seventeen at the front of the mid pack twenty five runners still in it, Jurassic and Seven Stars tangling with each other on the over the jump. They split the pack and cause a slowing of the followers putting them in further behind the leaders but if you look at the past times for the event they are actually doing really well, unless the leaders can hold this pace they may well be up front with them at the last fence. Taunton Barr has slowed and Samoyed, Just for Fun, Moet and Allahabad are bearing down on the leader. Over nineteen and Just for Fun, Samoyed, Moet and Allahabad draw up to within five lengths of Taunton Barr still hol
ding the outside and sparing turf all over the crowd. Even though he has slowed he still holds the pace of what could be considered a wining run. Over twenty and the four holding the rail are now level with Taunton Barr. Cumberland continues to hold pace I can almost hear her yelling at her mount from here and clearly hear her as all on the big screen. And over Twenty one and Samoyed takes the lead by a head. Holding pace toward Bechers and Taunton Barr doesn't slow at all and cleans it with ease landing first. Samoyed, Moet, Allahabad and Just for fun draw past the leader sitting wide. Over Foinavens and Taunton Barr losses more ground on the outside. Just For Fun kicks it up to twenty four Canal Turn taking the lead, as they shuffle for positions at turn six toward twenty five and the final long straight. I hand it over to the back commentary box for the final run home.'
'And over the twenty five Just For Fun holding the lead, a head to Samoyed, Allahabad and Moet respectively as they cling to the inside rail. Taunton Barr has lost more ground clinging to the outside rail and down goes two more at twenty five, Duke and Blanco had picked up pace and tangled at the jump on the inside line we have lost half the field. The field has bunched up as the mid line kicks up and the leaders currently hold pace, over twenty six and Taunton Barr holding the outside line streaks into the jump and clears it clean. Cumberland drops the reins and sits down behind her mount ears and I've seen this before, he takes off like a rocket. Moet, Allahabad kick up to go with him but he begins to streak away. Cumberland holds line on the outside rail and her mount streaks over twenty seven and hunts down twenty eight and there are three to go and it's Taunton Barr by three lengths, four, five absolutely striding out like a mile charger. Stays wide over twenty eight, Moet over some six seven lengths behind followed across the field by Allahabad, Just for Fun and Samoyed. Cumberland steers number seven hard on the outside of the final turn and into jump twenty nine and he doesn't even touch it. He powers on Cumberland hiding behind his ears she is looking through the middle of his ears I can see her clearly and steers him toward the outside of the last fence. Over he goes another clean jump and all eyes on this horse as he thunders toward the finishing line. Twelve lengths on the rest of the field, fifteen as he bypasses the chair toward the finish, seventeen lengths to Just For Fun leading the gallant four that tried to chase him down. Streaking past and bypassing the water jump toward the final yards of the national and Taunton Barr wins the grand national by twenty lengths. Second will be as he strides on passing Just For Fun, Samoyed, a hundred to one outsider, Moet and Allahabad their jockeys sitting up and cantering over the line third and forth respectively. And a string of runners clinging the inside rail gradually crossing the line in what has been a record run here today, Taunton Barr, otherwise known as Flaxmead slices a massive four point two seconds from record and remains undefeated. And he hasn't finished running, Lindy Cumberland cruises him along the grandstand side of the field as she cools him down and the crowd here at Aintree are letting him know what they think of this horse. Discovered by Winston Blake in Ireland, nobody wanted him, purchased for a hundred pounds, sired in Australia, an incredible chain of events that has given us a champion like no other. And for one day, we are all winners, last week this horse was ridiculed and condemned, today the world is his. And for those listening via radio, Lindy Cumberland dismounts in front of the grandstand crowd and leads her horse toward the winners circle past the most deafening roars. What an absolute fairy tale finish to the most exciting race I have ever had the pleasure to call. And we leave you from Aintree with the news, that Taunton Barr has won the grand national at the Aintree racecourse here in the UK.'
A helicopter from Bristol charter landed on the infield, a man had stopped crying into his hands, whilst on his knees, he climbed in the chopper and was whisked away.