For all of its quirks, Epsom has stood the test of time
Speed, stamina, balance and temperament are all needed to win the Derby, writes Marcus Armytage
Pacemakers often appear to have a long lead, but they usually pay for this
Nowadays, there would be an expensive public inquiry into it. How could anyone have sited a course for the world’s premier Flat race on, around and over Epsom Downs? Up hill, down dale, and a camber that would not so much get the highways surveyor sacked but imprisoned.
Of course, there are occasionally duff editions of the race, but four times out of five it has an uncanny knack of sorting the stallions from the colts.
The Investec Derby has stood the test of time. Tomorrow, 13 colts will set off for the sport’s most prestigious prize for the 240th time; an A-level examination for a common-entrance age group.
And it is precisely
because Epsom, by accident or design, is such a topographically awful racecourse that it tests so many aspects of what we have come to desire from an animal genetically engineered over three centuries to possess the perfect combination of speed and stamina, balance and temperament.
Before the starting stalls clack open at 4.30pm tomorrow, most of the sifting has already been done. The original 400 entries have been whittled down to just 13. Any number of things may have gone wrong in the year and a half since their owners coughed their first down-payment on a slot at Epsom. The No1 reason for shattered dreams is, generally, an overwhelming lack of ability.
But the timing of the race, the first Saturday in the June of a colt’s three-year-old career, means many of the runners are nowhere near fully mature and, like our own teenagers, changing almost by the day. They will need a bit more than the co-ordination of a Labrador puppy to cope with Epsom.
That they are all progressing at different rates is one of the factors which makes the Derby such an intriguing betting race, particularly this year.
Once the horses actually arrive at the course, their first test will be mental rather than physical; the parade ring.
I do not actually mind Epsom as a racecourse, but it is let down by its paddock, which at 4.15pm will resemble one of the Queen’s garden parties – gatecrashed by every bloodstock agent north of Addis Ababa – being held in a Sainsbury’s car park with a fashion parade of horses round the outside.
The race itself can be divided into three roughly equal parts. The first half-mile is up a steep hill, the second half-mile is down a steep hill on the turn, while the final half-mile is straight but on a right-to-left camber.
At the end of what has been a bad week for Everest, the first halfmile is the acceptable face of climbing. What you want at this stage is for the horse you have chosen to settle quickly.
The downhill section requires your horse to demonstrate balance and a certain amount of robustness should the race get rough. Not all winners handle it perfectly, but a smooth descent and ability to come around the bend as if on rails is a help.
The race then begins to unfold in the straight. The pacemakers often appear to have a long lead turning in, but they usually pay for this in the final quarter-mile, and it is between Tattenham Corner and the twofurlong pole that speed and acceleration are required.
Inside the final furlong, stamina becomes important. Geoff Lewis, Mill Reef ’s jockey, used to say that the Derby winner needed to stay longer than the motherin-law, but stamina is a fine balance; if a horse stays longer than Theresa May, it is probably too long on stamina and too short on speed.
Lots of the world’s greatest sports grounds have their little idiosyncrasies – like the slope at Lord’s – which set them apart.
Epsom has its big eccentricities and, though plenty of trainers in the last century invoked the spirit of John Betjeman’s “Come friendly bombs ...” for Hitler to do the levelling, the Derby would not be the same anywhere else.