Fly’s opportunity to make time stand still
Fadó Fadó, back in the days when Arkle and Flyingbolt were rewriting both the history and rules of horse racing, an Australian television station produced a nice little family series called ‘The Magic Boomerang’.
The show, which became a bit of a cult with pre-teen Ireland in the 1960s, was built on a brilliant premise.
The hero, one Tom Thumbleton no less, finds a mythical boomerang among his great grandfather’s leavings and discovers to his delight that when he flings it in the air, the world stops turning for everybody but him.
This gives Tom (and the producers) lots of scope for a weekly adventure, catching baddies, undoing mischief while time stands still as his magical bendy stick flies through blue outback sky.
Fast forward a few generations: Leopardstown, January 2014, Irish Champion Hurdle, the approach to the final flight, four horses almost in a line. Three of them we already know are very good and the other is arguably one of the greatest ever.
The only puzzle is why is this still classed as arguable? Hurricane Fly already co-owns a world record for the number of top-class wins and if the ensuing next 20 seconds at Leopardstown go to plan, he will have it all to himself.
For some reason, it seems to take an age to get them from the turn into the straight to the final flight. Despite the small field, the race is pregnant with possibilities and thinking these through has slowed things down to a stop. The inevitable microsecond of spectator silence between absorbing what is happening and roaring home their hopes goes on forever. It’s almost as if old Tom Thumbleton has found his boomerang again and given it a whirl, for old time’s sake.
And then he catches it and the roar comes loudly.
Captain Cee Bee, has led from the start and still holds a narrow lead. Hurricane Fly is next to him, two out from the rails, but worryingly Ruby appears to be getting niggly. Some health concerns had come out of Carlow earlier that week and it looks like they could be real.
Three deep from the rails is Our Conor, the young pretender, the One who will be King — swinging along under Danny Mullins. It looks like his time has come. Outside him Tony McCoy has driven the deeply talented but possibly courageously shallow, Jetzki, into contention from the back of the field.
They jump the last. Our Conor meets it beautifully, much better than Hurricane Fly and goes about half a length up. The stands know intuitively that what happens next could tell the story of top-class hurdling for years to come.
And tell a story it did, an old one — told for the 19th time, in fact. Here’s the truncated version; Our Conor takes a marginal lead. Ruby balances his horse. Jetzki’s effort fizzles out, again. Hurricane Fly puts his head down, draws level, accelerates and wins going away.
Captain Cee Bee stays on to be third.
Hurricane Fly is now the sole owner of the world record for Grade One wins. He has just given one of the best ever winners of the Triumph Hurdle weight and a fairly comfortable beating.
So why then is so much of the post-race conversation and analysis obsessing on which of the young challengers — My Tent Or Yours, The New One or Our Conor — was going to beat him at Cheltenham this week? Hurricane Fly has just won his 21st of 24 races over hurdles yet he is pigeonholed by some as the Robbie Keane of racing.
Appreciation and recognition are postponed until after retirement when we realise what is lost and lament for a lethal striker.
In fairness, most of the doubters come from the other side of the Irish Sea, but even despite this, it still took a long time for him to become favourite for today’s Champion Hurdle and money flows don’t recognise national borders. His current price of 3/1 still seems crudely disrespectful as a reflection of his achievements.
There are reasons for this but most hold water like a colander. Start with ratings, the nearest we have to an objective truth.
Timeform, the oldest and often the wisest of ratings compilers, barely rate him among the top 20 hurdlers they have seen in the last 60 years.
Putting this into a finer context, they believe Night Nurse would have beaten him by about nine lengths and Monksfield and Istabraq by seven. They argue that worthies such as Bird’s Nest, Salmon Spray and Gaye Brief were all superior horses. Why does this view prevail?
Perhaps it is the way he wins, visually often more agricultural than horticultural. Unlike Sea Pigeon, Istabraq or Golden Cygnet, his modus operandi is rarely a double handful canter to the last and a sneer at opponents on the run in. Hurricane Fly crushes opposition with sustained acceleration which can be confused with a lack of brilliance.
Maybe it’s the quality of the horses he beats, the crib being that great champions are not made by repeatedly beating the likes of Solwhit and Thousand Stars in small field, soft ground Irish Grade Ones. However, both these horses have won more than €1m in their careers and once Hurricane Fly was out of his way, Solwhit was one of his generation’s best hurdlers.
Besides, Best Mate earned himself a statue at Cheltenham twice the size of Arkle’s by beating such as Truckers Tavern and Sir Rembrandt in Gold Cups. Remember them? Thought so.
Another view is that he doesn’t like Cheltenham and runs comparatively slow times there.
There is no question that the biggest blot on his copybook was his defeat in the 2012 Champion Hurdle, but it was a messy race and the horse wasn’t right and clock-watchers who note that his younger rival, My Tent or Yours, ran five seconds faster on the same course on the same day last year need to be careful that they don’t confuse cause and effect. Most serious punters tend to stand well back from timing conclusions in National Hunt betting decisions and the horse that beat ‘My Tent’ that day was the Hurricane’s stable mate, Champagne Fever. Willie Mullins’ assessment of his chances in the Champion Hurdle this year was to send him chasing.
So, as unfair and weird as it seems, Hurricane Fly still has some people to shut up when he defends his title in Champion Hurdle this afternoon. His form, achievements and ability are far ahead of those opposing him who trade mostly on hope and potential. One of them might prove to be Pegasus, the mythical flying horse, but this week it is the mythical flying stick that concerns us.
It turned out that Tom Thumbleton’s old Grandad had been given the magic boomerang by an ancient people that lived only in the ancient dream time.
This afternoon Hurricane Fly has the opportunity to make time stand still again. If he does, the whole of Cheltenham will be in the dream time.
