Lester: The Official Biography Page 22

  As so often with Lester, it all looked tantalisingly easy but he had again chosen the right horse (Tolomeo finished ninth) and he had read his mount's capabilities and preferences correctly before they set out. Tolomeo was actually a very good horse.

  Later in the year, ridden by Pat Eddery, he won the Budweiser Million at Arlington Park, Chicago.

  Teenoso ran twice more in 1983; in the Irish Sweeps Derby and the Great Voltigeur later at York. The ground for the Irish Derby was firm, and Teenoso towards the end of the race (in which he finished third) hung badly to the right. It was put down to the hard ground, but after he had come third again at York he was found to have a hairline fracture in one of his joints.

  He raced no more that season, but recovered to run the following year, heaping upon himself all sorts of further glory. After a close third, with Lester, in a preliminary in April, he won at Chester for Pat Eddery (Lester injured) and then, with Lester back in the saddle, won the Grand Prix de Saint-Cloud on 1 July. The ground at the Paris track was firm, but Teenoso's joints survived. It was the jockey who suffered damage: he rode with blood running down his face, the result of Teenoso tossing his head at the end of the parade past the stands, and opening cuts above and below Lester's right eye.

  He ran last of all in the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Diamond Stakes at Ascot four weeks later where, on firm ground, Lester repeated the tactics that had won them the sodden Derby. He let Teenoso pull his way to the front almost at once, then steadied him for a while behind another horse, then let him take the lead again when he wanted to, a good half-mile from home. He had to ride Teenoso hard during the last stages but they sped on together to win by two and a half lengths from Sadler's Wells: and Tolomeo, incidentally, finished third.

  Teenoso was retired by his owner, Eric Moller, to the Highclere Stud in Hampshire following his inability to run in the Arc (see p. 247), his first progeny due to be seen racing in 1987.

  Back in 1983, his ninth Derby sitting comfortably in the record books, Lester struck trouble at Glorious Goodwood, on Vacarme. Trained by Henry Cecil, owned by Daniel Wildenstein, the two-year-old chestnut Vacarme had won first time out at Ascot, but at Goodwood, Lester, having dropped him in behind other horses to steady him, found it difficult to get through.

  Lester saw enough room along the rails and made his move that way, at which point the bunch of horses racing on Lester's left drifted in towards the rails, narrowing the space. Vacarme and Pacific King bumped, then Vacarme went on through to lead easily and win at a canter.

  Behind him, Pacific King having dropped back, the other horses continued to drift to the right to the extent that Godstone, now on the rails, was severely squeezed and could finish only third instead of second.

  There were objections all round. The rider of the third, Godstone, objected to the second, and their placings were switched. Vacarme, for earlier colliding with Pacific King, was disqualified altogether and placed last, and Lester got a suspension of five days for careless riding. As he says, it was the three horses drifting towards the rails that caused both lots of trouble, but it was he, characteristically taking his chance, who got the chop.

  The owner and his son were furious with Lester about the disqualification, saying that Lester could have won just as easily on the wide outside, which is where he should have been. Lester said nothing but reflected that two-year-olds given a clear view on the outside sometimes get frightened and stop racing.

  Vacarme and Lester were back in the winner's enclosure after the Mill Reef Stakes at Newbury in September, Lester having again held up the colt until entering the last furlong. (And it is perhaps worth noting that, although ridden subsequently by other jockeys,Vacarme never won a big race for anyone else.)

  With the shape of the Arc de Triomphe on the horizon (the Trusthouse Forte Prix de 1'Arc de Triomphe), Lester was asked about six weeks in advance by John Dunlop to partner Sheikh Mohammed's Awaasif. The filly hadn't won since Lester had ridden her to victory in the Yorkshire Oaks the previous August, but with Willie Carson she had finished third immediately behind Lester on Ardross in the 1981 Arc de Triomphe, demonstrating she could act at Longchamp on a good day. There was a slight question mark over her fitness in early autumn 1983, but Lester engaged himself to ride her if she should prove sound and ready in a final gallop on the Thursday before the race.

  On the Sunday (one week) before the Arc, before the Awaasif gallop could take place, trainer Patrick Biancone telephoned to Lester from France and offered him the ride on the filly All Along, owned by Daniel Wildenstein. Lester had never ridden All Along, but of course he regularly rode the horses Daniel Wildenstein had in training in England with Henry Cecil. (Vacarme was one.)

  Lester told Patrick Biancone about the gallop on Awaasif and said he could ride All Along only if Awaasif wasn't fit. Between Biancone's grasp of English and Lester's indistinct speech, the message was misunderstood. The French trainer told the French Press that Lester would definitely be riding All Along and it was printed in the papers the next morning.

  When Lester heard of it, he pointed out that Patrick Biancone had got it wrong. If Awaasif were fit, he was committed to ride her. Daniel Wildenstein, a Parisian art dealer, threw one of his well-known tantrums. "Lester Piggott will never ride for me again," he told the Press.

  Patrick Biancone next told the papers (or else they printed it without asking him) that the American jockey currently riding in France, Cash Asmussen, who had also ridden often for Daniel Wildenstein, would partner All Along in the Arc. When Cash Asmussen heard the news, he said no, he wouldn't, he was riding Welsh Term.

  "Cash Asmussen will never ride for me again," Daniel Wildenstein said.

  Neither Lester nor Cash Asmussen had, in any case, been first choice for the ride; Freddie Head had been asked first, but he was riding Lovely Dancer. Nor were Lester and Cash Asmussen the first jockeys to displease Daniel Wildenstein. Yves Saint-Martin and Pat Eddery had both in earlier years been discarded. ("Eddery will never ride for me again. ")

  "There wasn't much between the two fillies on paper," Lester says. "All Along had beaten me on Awaasif once as a three-year-old, but Awaasif had run well in the Yorkshire Oaks. I could have ridden either of them, but I stuck with Awaasif. You can't get it right every time."

  Ruefully he finished thirteenth on Awaasif while All Along scored her first win of the season in unbeatable style with young Walter Swinburn.

  With only his pride dented, Lester went to Milan a fortnight later and on Awaasif won the Gran Premio del jockey Club, one of Italy's best races. She was a good tough filly, Lester says, but the Arc just wasn't her day.

  All Along's career took wings. She crossed the Atlantic and won both Internationals-the Rothman's at Woodbine, Toronto, and the Washington DC, at Laurel, Maryland-as well as the Turf Classic at Aqueduct, New York; and in the following year proved equally brilliant. Walter Swinburn partnered her throughout until one day he lost, and was replaced.

  Choosing horses, Lester says philosophically, is like the three-card trick. Try as you may, you can miss the queen.

  -

  22 Choosing the Horses, Riding the Courses

  "OBVIOUSLY a freelance can only ride two or three or perhaps four of the horses in a big race, because the others have retained jockeys on them." (Lester talking) "If there was a good horse who hadn't got a retained jockey on it, they'd ask me. It was a great advantage."

  Perhaps three to four hundred horses are entered each year in each of the classics, more particularly in those for colts. The bigger the number entered, the larger the prize, as these races are sweepstakes. The entries have to be made three to four months in advance of the races, which means that anyone who has a good two-year-old cannot afford not to enter it, in case it should have developed miraculously through the winter and be a world-beater at three. Everyone has learned from Brigadier Gerard who might have won the Derby if only he'd been entered: but on his breeding, he hadn't looked a possible.

  Eve
n though the entries for all five classics have to be made before the opening of the Flat season (the rules change from time to time), the actual runners aren't known for sure until sometimes a week or a few days before the events. Running and riding plans may tentatively be made a long time in advance, but often, for all big races, not only the classics, there are last-minute decisions on all sides. The results of all the preliminary races-and trials have to be taken into account, as do last minute health problems, and deluges or droughts.

  It would often be at a point close to a big race that Lester would be asked by two or three trainers for his services. Sometimes the free horse would be so good it would be accepted by Lester immediately. More often, a choice between two would have to be made, a process which began with his own knowledge and observation, not in reading the form book. He had almost always ridden the possibles himself or had ridden against them: he knew their likely capabilities at first hand.

  Taken into consideration was whether the distance of the race suited the horse, what the ground would be like, hard or soft, and whether the horse was likely to feel well in himself. It might not be sensible to choose a horse who'd had a very hard race recently, even if he had won; he might be half-dead next time out.

  If the choice came near the beginning of the year, Lester wouldn't be looking just at the one big race, but at what might happen later. He would favour a horse likely to go on to win big races after.

  In choosing between two in the Derby, say, he might be faced with a seasoned campaigner on the one hand and on the other a horse who'd only run twice. The experienced horse would know better what to do, but the beginner might go further and faster on the day. Assessing them could be tricky.

  If the choices appeared altogether level, Lester would pick the better trainer. It wouldn't matter so much who the trainer was for an ordinary race, but the better trainers seem to have a higher average in big races. There was also the owner to be considered, as, if there were no other deciding factors, Lester tended to choose any particular horse because of liking the owner.

  On the financial side, there might be an owner who would offer more than the 7 % share of the winning prize money, or more than the usual riding fee, or both. The offer would be decisive only if everything else were more or less equal: first and foremost, Lester's aim was to win.

  "You have to listen to what everyone says and take it all in, or you'd never do anything right, but you mustn't be swayed by people trying to persuade you. You can make some awful mistakes by being sentimental and not looking at things as they really are. That's so easy. No, you've got to be pretty tough about it, really."

  Juggling all the variables, he would arrive in a day or two at his decision, often unsure even after the die was cast. He never acted on intuition, which he found unreliable. Evidence and reason led him on, and most times they were right.

  Even when he had said "Yes" to one trainer, he'd sometimes keep the second dangling with "I'll ride yours if So-and-so doesn't run." And the second trainer might engage another jockey with the proviso that "Lester rides instead of you if So-and-so doesn't run." The owner of the second horse would be praying for So-and-so to go lame. There are only so many Derbys in anyone's life.

  Practically none of this agonising went into riding plans for smaller races. If an offered horse had a reasonable chance, Lester accepted it. If a much better offer came along, he would probably get off the first and onto the other: this was no heinous crime but a common practice among almost all jockeys when not needed by their home stable. All the great jockeys of the past built their winning totals on this method, including Sir Gordon Richards and the legendary Fred Archer, who averaged one winner in three rides throughout his career.

  Being a jockey is like any other business, and getting oneself onto winners is the point of the trade. Many a trainer had the jitters until L. Piggott's name was actually up there safely on the number boards.

  Lester did occasionally get himself off what turned out to be the winner. Horses can make fools of the brightest.

  Lester knows horses like other people know people. He recognises their faces, learns their heads. They all look different to him. Once he's met them and got to know them, he's familiar with them and can identify them anywhere instantly.

  Horses know him in return. "They can't say hello," he says, "but you know they know you because of the way they look at you."

  "Sir Ivor always knew Lester," Vincent O'Brien assured me. "Whenever he heard his voice, he'd look round. He'd always look at him if he was near. All horses know Lester if he's ridden them."

  Every stable-lad who looks after a racehorse for a long time knows it infallibly and is known, but in the much shorter contact of horse and jockey it's less usual, even in a champion, and Lester's quick affinity with horses is at the root of his success. He takes it for granted. Part of life. There's no mush. He talks of horses as individuals, but in a very down to earth fashion.

  "A lot of them are stupid. A lot are intelligent. They vary in the same way that people do. There's no point in getting irritated with the stupid ones. They can't help it. Some horses like to do something wrong all the time. Even when they've run very often, they'll jump all over the place, pull too hard, try not to go into the stalls ... they make life hard for themselves, but they keep on with it. Some people are like that, too.

  "Not every horse can run fast, the same way that people can't. It's unreasonable to expect it. Intelligence has nothing to do with speed. Some very slow horses are intelligent, some good ones aren't. If a horse has an ache or a pain he can't go fast, but as he can't tell you, it's probably never found out. "At least sixty per cent of horses don't really want to do their best. Winning doesn't mean all that much to them. You have to try to humour them to get them to do what they can. I've ridden some very good horses who were so good it didn't matter that they wouldn't do their best, they could win anyway. Like Roberto. He was a terrific horse going left-handed, but he was half-hearted in his Derby; he should have won by a couple of lengths.

  "There's a vast difference between a really good horse and a bad horse. People don't realise. It's not a matter of twenty lengths difference, it's a furlong. If you get a horse who's very fast, very intelligent and wants to race, it's a revelation. On one of those you can beat the world."

  Top flat race jockeys ride five, six, sometimes seven hundred races a year. The turnover of flat race horses is so rapid-they race at two, at three, less often at four, rarely at five-that more than half of the time the jockey will be going out to the parade-ring to ride a horse he hasn't ridden before.

  "Some of them are boats," Lester says. "Big slow boats."

  The type of horse and race Lester rode most was to some extent governed by his weight. He could do 8 st. 41bs. if he had to, but was more comfortable at 8 st.7 lbs.

  This cut out half the horses in most handicap races, limiting his options to-the top weights and explaining why he seldom won the big handicaps like the Lincoln and Cambridgeshire. When engaged to ride a horse he hadn't ridden before and hadn't ridden against, Lester would read the form book carefully. "If the horse had won once, no matter how long ago, I'd look to see what happened that day, when things went right. The going, the pace, where he was during the greater part of the race and when he made a move. Because the horse liked it, that time. So you try to make everything the same for him again, and it often works.

  "I've seen useless horses win races. Horses you wouldn't believe, win races. One day the horse is going to feel all right, and if he runs enough times, every week perhaps, he'll win. There's a race for nearly every horse. A horse won a good race at Sandown not long ago who'd run thirty times without winning. Some owners just keep on running them, hoping. If the horse has ever shown any sort of promise, there's always a chance."

  Trainers like Richard Hannon are good for horses like that: he thinks nothing of running the same horse four times in three weeks. That's at the far end of the scale from Sir Noel Murless who with a horse that had
its limitations would patiently wait, running it lightly or not at all until everything was right. Then if the horse won that one race, that would be enough, the programme would have been a success, the horse would retire. Not many trainers now have owners as patient as Noel had trained his to be. Quite often his owners didn't even know their horses were running until they looked in the morning papers, as he would forget to tell them. Noel's favourite sort of owner (and one suspects Lester's henceforth also) was one who brought him good horses, paid the bills regularly and expected little conversation.

  Lester says he will let his owners know when their horses are running.

  Only fair, he thinks.

  Lester's style of riding has been to a great extent dictated by his height, and as he has said when comments have been made about the famous behind sticking up in the air, "Well, I've got to put it somewhere."

  The shortness of his stirrup leathers, now universally copied, was not much to do with serious theories of race-riding but mostly the result of the introduction of starting stalls.

  The English variety of stalls are narrow, and inside have a small ledge along each side which a jockey can step onto if he needs to. With longer stirrup leathers, too much of the leg lies below the ledge: Lester got tired of bumping his knees on it as his mounts plunged out of the stalls, and shortened his leathers to bring them up higher. His knees escaped battery and a new style was born.