Life As I Know It (26 page)

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Authors: Michelle Payne

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Later that day I saw Hugh Bowman in the jockeys' room.

‘What do you reckon?' I asked. ‘If I'd waited that bit longer, would I have won the race?' He didn't say too much.

‘Maybe it could have brought his horse undone but The United States was tough.' Peter Ellis was somewhat critical. He thought Prince needed to be fourth on the outside. But second-prize money moved us higher up in the order of Cup entry, and because we didn't win we avoided a penalty. Handicapper Greg Carpenter gave The United States an additional 2.5 kilograms for the Cup. That's a lot.

I rang Patrick. He thought the run was good enough.

‘It was fine,' he said. ‘But if you're looking for perfection, you could have got your wrists down a bit when you were trying to settle him again.' Later, having watched the video a few times, Patrick got back on the phone.

‘Hey, Stinky,' he said. ‘That was actually a great run. I hope they decide to carry on to the Cup. I reckon he'll race well.'

I did too.

That evening Prince was floated back to Warrnambool, a four-hour drive. When I woke the next morning I was concerned about how he'd pulled up after his Moonee Valley run. I sent a text to Jarrod McLean, one of Darren's assistants and in charge of Prince: ‘How's Prince?'

I was getting ready to head down that way to ride some other horses for Darren at the Hamilton meeting. The phone beeped. ‘Couldn't be better.' I was so relieved. Horses are such delicate creatures that you never know how they'll pull up, especially a horse like Prince. He'd been so susceptible to injury.

The phone then beeped again. It was a photo of Prince on the beach at Warrnambool, looking bright and well. He'd had a solid run at The Valley but not a tough run—perfect preparation for the two miles of the Cup. Jarrod was on top of things down there. He's a fantastic horseman, very gentle. He certainly doesn't overwork them.

I was still thinking about my ride the day before, still kicking myself that I'd reacted to Kerrin's pressure. But Patrick's phone call had been encouraging. The owners were also ecstatic. They were almost certain to have a starter in the Cup. But not everyone was satisfied I should retain the ride. When a couple of them raised the issue, Darren was quite practical about it.

‘Look,' he said to them, ‘if you take Michelle off, who would you put on?'

Prince had been given 53 kilograms in the Cup and not many jockeys can ride at that weight. More importantly, no one else knew Prince the way I did. Not only had I been on him in all bar one of his races, I had ridden him for nearly all of his track gallops. Darren and I had trekked around western Victoria to gallop him, around our home country, really.

That Sunday after the Cox Plate it took over three hours for us to drive to Hamilton, knowing we'd have to come back again that evening. So it was nice to win on Ha Long Bay for Simon Morrish. But I hardly rode the rest of the week after as I'd managed to score a dose of tonsillitis. I did do a couple of events. One was a launch for the
TAB.com.au
, hosted by James Brayshaw, Glen Boss and a couple of footy players, Hawthorn's Luke Hodge and Geelong's Steve Johnson. We were racing on mechanical horses. I beat Glen, then Steve beat Luke, and then Steve beat me in the final. He's a competitive bugger. The Melbourne Cup itself was also there. The photographers wanted shots of us with it.

‘Glen, can we get a pic with the Cup?'

‘No way. It's bad luck.' Glen wasn't having any of it.

‘Michelle?'

‘No worries.'

I wanted to see how it felt in my hands.

On the Thursday I rode at Cranbourne but I was looking forward to Prince's last track gallop on the Friday morning, although it was going to be a massive day. I had to gallop eight horses for Darren at Terang in the morning and then come back up the highway for eight trials at Camperdown. Kyle Maskiell, an apprentice from Tasmania who was trying to find a master in Victoria, was coming with us.

Terang is near Warrnambool, so only about half an hour for Prince to travel, but a couple hours for us from Ballarat, so it was an early start to be there by seven. It's dairy country with plenty of rain, and the Terang track is usually in good condition and great to ride on. I'd won the Cup there in 2010, a day when the first four horses across the line were ridden by women. I was on Picalero, Holly McKechnie finished second on Lady Avacan, Lisa Cropp, a Kiwi, third on Crocodile Canyon, and Nikki Berriman fourth on Nicastral.

Darren had organised the session and track manager Michael Beauhayden had given the track a light water. The surface was perfect. It's a big track too, with a really long straight—quite like Flemington. With the Cup just days away, Prince needed a solid gallop. Darren paired us up with Dandino, a quality stayer who'd been set for the Melbourne Cup but had not qualified. He'd started favourite in the Geelong Cup the week before, running second to Almoonqith, which was given some hope in the Cup. Dandino was nominated for the Queen's Cup on Emirates Day, which he went on to win impressively.

Johnny Allen was riding Dandino. Johnny's an Irishman, from County Cork. He's a real horseman and since deciding to stay in Australia he's won some big jumps races, including that 2015 Grand Annual during the carnival at Warrnambool, aboard Regina Coeli. We headed out onto the track and Prince felt fantastic.

It was a sunny morning, but pretty breezy. That meant there were no flies, for once. Terang's right next to a chicken farm and there's always flies. And the chook shed has the loudest phone in the history of telephones. You can hear it all around the track, which always makes me laugh—it's so Australian.

‘You lead,' Darren instructed Johnny. ‘Michelle, you sit back a couple of lengths.'

We rolled off a nice strong canter from the 2000-metre and we went a mile at evens, which is 15 seconds for each 200 metres, and then worked into it over the last 1000. We just let them increase their tempo. I set Prince off at the 400 to join Johnny and Dandino head and head and he had plenty to give. We both built our pace to the line, together.

I couldn't get the smile off my face initially. But as I was coming back I spotted racing journalist Bruce Clark and his cameraman—they were doing a story on me and a story on Darren for G1X Racing.

‘Oh, that was good,' I said.

Darren didn't say anything.

‘Are you happy?' I asked Darren.

‘Yeah.'

Nothing more was said.

A few minutes went by. Bruce Clark drifted off, and Darren was legging me up on the next horse.

‘That's the best he's ever worked,' Darren said.

‘I was thinking exactly the same thing,' I replied. At that moment I felt Darren had managed to bring it all together perfectly—just
like Bart—that coming off his final track gallop Prince was going to peak on Cup Day.

After the trials at Camperdown—eight or so more rides—Darren dropped us back to Dad's. On the way back to Melbourne Kyle was knackered.

‘Big day,' he said.

‘It's not over yet,' I said.

‘You going out?'

‘Nah, I've gotta train.'

‘What!'

He couldn't believe it. But I knew that if I was going to win the Melbourne Cup I had to do everything I could. And everything I always did.

As Kyle was flying back to Tasmania, I made my way down to the Aberfeldie footy ground, where I often punched out some interval sprints the best I could. Music in my ears: Pat Benatar's ‘All Fired Up', ‘The Fighter' by Gym Class Heroes, Rachel Platten's ‘Fight Song'. More thinking time. Prince. Tuesday. Would we get a start? Just keep pushing the laps out. Breathe. Derby Day tomorrow. Prince was fit. I had to be fit, too.

After my run, I rang Andrew and told him about the Terang gallop.

‘It's the best he's ever worked.' I was not able to contain my excitement.

‘Well, I'd be surprised,' he said, ‘you never know.' I could tell he was just as hopeful for me as I was.

After a gruelling day I climbed into the spa, which was a relief to every joint and muscle in my body. While relaxing I started to play the replays of the races of the European horses who were in the Cup field on my phone. I really liked the run of Max Dynamite.

The whole Spring Carnival builds towards the four meetings at Flemington: Derby Day on the Saturday, Melbourne Cup Day on the Tuesday, Oaks Day on the Thursday, and Stakes Day on the second Saturday. The racing is fantastic—there's always drama. And it captures the focus of people everywhere. Melbourne is alive with revellers who have travelled from all over to be part of it. Spirits are high. The pubs and restaurants are filled. Newspapers and TV are full of racing stories. Punters are trying to find a winner. Everyone is making their Melbourne Cup Day plan.

The first day of the Flemington Spring Carnival, Derby Day, is regarded by many as the best day of racing in Australia. Big fields. The best horses. It's a festival day, like Christmas or Easter. I had one ride, on Darren's mare La Passe in the Group 1 Myer Classic. She had improved over her previous two starts and had surprised a few people by winning two Group 2 mare races—the Blazer at Flemington at forty to one, and the Tristarc at Caulfield. I thought she had a chance.

Making my way to Flemington, I was still wondering whether Prince would make the final field. Even though he was almost certain to, I just wanted to see his name in that list of twenty-four. The 53 kilograms he'd been given was a handy weight for him to carry. It was well below the weight of the European and Japanese horses that were highly rated on the international scale, and the classy Australasian horses who had come through the traditional derbies. The Caulfield Cup winner, the Kiwi horse Mongolian Khan, would have carried 56.5 kilograms had he started in the Cup. So, chance had played its part again. Prince's injury as a three-year-old meant he missed those classics and hence they did not impact on his record. Yet had he been fit at the time he would almost certainly have been competitive.

With various scratchings during the week, including Mongolian Khan to injury, Prince was number twenty-two on Derby Day
morning. But that still wasn't good enough for me. Just after I walked the track I saw Simon Marshall, who was getting ready for his afternoon at the Channel 7 desk with Bruce McAvaney and Francesca Cumani. Simon was a fine rider and has always been very supportive. He'll take time to offer some quiet advice, or to comment on something that's happened. He just wants jockeys to be the best they can be.

‘Will we get in?' I asked him.

‘For sure.'

‘How do you reckon we'll go?'

‘He's hard fit,' he said. ‘And, on the basis of your daring ride at Moonee Valley, you'd have to be hoping for a big run.' I suppose he thought leading was daring.

‘Just ride him for a top-ten finish,' he said.

‘I think we'll go better than that.'

‘Well, I hope you do,' Simon said.

There was good racing happening all day. Darren took out the first with Mahuta, with Brad Rawiller on board, and Terry O'Sullivan's Patch Adams finished second for Steven Arnold. A Stawell quinella. Mentor and protégé! Darren was unlucky in the Lexus when Zanteca finished second for Damian Lane, after seemingly copping interference from Dwayne Dunn on Excess Knowledge. He protested but the stewards didn't overturn the result. Gailo Chop won the L.K.S. Mackinnon Stakes, giving Francesca Cumani her first Group 1 win as a connection, and the Derby went to the hotpot Tarzino for Mick Price and jockey Froggy Newitt. The jockeys' room was on Froggy's side as he'd had a run of outs. In the Myer Classic, La Passe, who'd had an easy run, got tucked away on the inside. She needed one crack at them and the run didn't come at the right time. She finished well back but her run was better than that suggested. She was a bit unlucky not to finish closer.

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