THE BIG RACE

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 970, 13 May 1930, Page 12

THE BIG RACE

AINTREE GRAND NATIONAL INCIDENTS OF THE CONTEST | An interesting retrospect of the last j Grand National contest at Aintree (run i on March -9) was written by the well- ! known London critic, •‘Rapier. ’ It is , reproduced in full: ■ Once there was a horse bred in America that pulled a station bus for j a time somewhere in the Bicester country. His name was Rubio, and he won the Grand National. Toward j the end of the war, when there was a shortage of everything except ' trouble, there was a thoroughbred that did a bit of good work in a plough That was Master Robert, and he won i the Grand National for the partners. I Lord Airlie and Colonel Sidney Green. | Then there was a wise horse that did ' not know its own father. That was Shaun Goilin, who the other day won the Grand National that produced the I biggest finishing thrill on record. All ; my Irish friends tell me that “Shaun” | is the equivalent of our “John,” and i that Boilin means in their language a “fairy.” Well, the whole story of | Shaun Goilin’s history, even to how i he came to be ridden at the last min- | ute by Tommy Cullman, is fairylike. Experts Shattered Readers with only the most superficial knowledge of breeding do not need to be told what a deal of thought is given by breeders to the mating of mares so that the crossings shall bo consistent with the dictates of fashion and be intelligently and even scientifically arrived at. How Shaun Goilin’s parents must have laughed at all the theories when one day the father, who cannot be identified beyond the vague description that he was One of Three colts in a paddock, most unexpectedly .received a visit from a mare who was living on the other side of the hedge! Rather prophetically she was named Golden Day, and her inquisitiveness, and, perhaps, I should say, her aggressiveness, led to a mating of which there could have been no eye-witness. For when in due course the young Shaun Goilin came on earth, ushered in as it were by a good fairy, there was no one even able to go godfather for him. Therefore it happened that he was the only one of the 41 runners for the Grand National a week ago who could not definitely be credited with a known father. There were the words which covered the “goilin”like story—“ Sire’s pedigree unknown.” The equine love-makers in an Irish paddock settled the question for the breeding world how a Grand National winner should be bred. The story runs that grave suspicion fell on a horse named Shaun Aboo. If that was so, then too hastily he was deprived of any further opportunities of taking more honours as a sire, either surreptitiously or otherwise. Typically Irish What better or more appropriate country than Ireland for such a story to have its origin? An English mare might never have thought of such a thing. And then there was the part of hero which was literally thrust by fate on jockey Cullinan. It was as if amends were due to him at any price for being deprived of having the ride on the broken-down Easter Hero. One might then have associated him with Sir Lindsay, also owned by Mr. J. H. AVhitney, for there was some claim on him, but the mount on that horse had apparently been promised to one named D. Williams. A promise where a good “National” mount is concerned is a promise, and Mr. Whitney and his trainer, apparently, were prepared to honour it, though I believe Cullinan thought he ought a to have had some reversion to the mount. Anyhow, there was a little friction, it is said, and when Frank Hartigan, the moment Easter Hero had gone out, asked to ride Shaun Goilin he at once accepted Now this meant deposing the Yorkshire jockey, Waudby, who had been asked by Hartigan to stand by and who was regarding himself as certain of the mount. An Irish jockey, Keogh, who had won the Grand Sefton last November on the horse, was not quite recovered from a bad fall some weeks ago. Had he been he would have had the ride. Cullinan, therefore, had all the gods, so to say, conspiring in his cause. Lost His Irons Queer how apparently small things can have tremendous consequences. Supposing Cullinan had been claimed for Sir Lindsay, would his feet have been brushed out of the irons as happened to Williams in 'crossing that fateful last fence? Again, had he been claimed for that horse would any other jockey have ridden the brilliant finish on Shaun Goilin which probably decided the issue? I do not mean that Mason did not do splendidly by Melleray’s Belle. He most certainly did. He did not bustle the old mare to start with. He let her warm to her work and then trusted to her wonderful powers of jumping and endurance. lam sure he rode her perfectly. But Cullinan has a bigger reputation, and the way he rode Shaun Goilin in the last hundred yards was just brilliant. Perhaps Sir Lindsay would have done the little at the last fence that made the difference between the jockey retaining his grip on the situation and losing it no matter who had been on his back, I don’t know. A\ hat lam sure of is that if Sir Lindsay could have been assisted as each of the two were he would have won the race by a very definite margin. A Blurred Picture Let me as briefly as- possible give you a few impressions of what happened. Because of the rapidity with which they happened they may have created something like a blurred picture on my mind at the time, but the incidents soon fell into their proper places and perspective. First they were all over the first fence, also the second and then, to be sure, the first of the open ditches snatched up one or two. About this time I remember I was chiefly interested in Gregalach. His colours were very like those carried by Grakle, the favourite, except that the rider of last year's winner had a white cap. Two fences after Valentine’s —that desperate looking open ditch and steep drop I wrote about two weeks ago—there was only one in orange standing up. It was not Gregalach, for the white cap had gone. They were now thinning out rapidly. Looking at them from afar it was as if some unseen mighty hand was quietly pulling them down. They came over the water under our noses as it were. A grey horse, Glangesia, was leading. Shaun Goilin was second. There was Grakle still “alive,” and I was satisfied to see Sir Lindsay there. Several lengths behind the leader I noted Melleray’s Belle for the first time. The previous evening in the hotel Mr. T. K. Laidlaw, who bred both Gregalach and Grakle, told me he felt sure the Yorkshire mare would do well. A Good Recovery They were now going away from us into the country tackling the second and last circuit. Sir Lindsay alarmed me by pecking badly a fence or two this side of Becher s. He recovered and went on. Next Grakle was down at that same fence which stopped Gregalach. The crisis was now being rapidly approached, and one could see very few still in it. Glangesia, Melleray’s Belle, Shaun Goilin. Sir Lindsay. Ballyhanwood and Royal Arch 11. remained. The last two did not matter. Soon the grey retired. Three remained to fight. Now. as they came charging at the last fence, I thought Sir Lindsay was going to come right away and win in the style- most “Nationals” are won in. that is to say, ; with some lengths to spare of the next. !

He was going boldly, and it flashed through my mind that his pull in the weight with Shaun Goilin would decide things. Also I thought of the 40 to 1 I had about him: I thought of It sadly enough, later when thinking of what might haYe been, what, indeed ought to have been. But there - I have said enough. I have connected up the story with what I related at the outset about the lost irons, the grit of the Yorkshire mare, and the courage and determination of the verv gallant winner. They were all well backed horses, especially the winner and the third. You could tell that from the prolonged cheering. It was not participated in by Cheshire and Lancashire bookmakers. Their “goilin” had deserted them for this once, anyway.