YOUR days in the school of racing are nearly over — but, my son, you have at least one more chance to make me proud. Do not let me down. You hear me?
I write to you to wish you luck at your fifth Festival and to urge you to strain every sinew one more time in your quest to show the world what I have always known — that you are one of the best we have ever seen.
You have provided me with so many happy memories but of course that Champion Hurdle win stands out as you powered up the hill to beat
Arctic Fire by nearly two lengths in 2015.
But you have always been good. Remember your bumper win at Punchestown? You smashed up
Josses Hill by 22 lengths!
It’s now six years since you destroyed
Ballyalton in the Neptune, gobbling up the Cheltenham hill as if it did not exist.
Over in Ireland you made
Penhill, the Stayers’ Hurdle hero, look punched-out at Punchestown and slammed Arctic Fire by eight lengths at the same course.
More recently you have gone chasing, with victories at Punchestown, Limerick and Leopardstown. The latter was at Grade 1 level and, gosh, did you battle, rallying all the way to the line to defeat your stable companion
Easy Game. There’s no easy game when a horse is up against you, old boy.
At the age of 12 some will say you should have lost your swagger. But they don’t know you like I do.
You see, you and I are alike. As the years flow, we have eternal youth. We were meant to be close. Even your dad is called Germany and as a youngster Germany was the country my old man took me to most!
My life has changed since you came along. I follow you with a passion I had no idea was in me and when you win I jump around like a child on their birthday.
The fact you have suffered the odd setback along the way just makes your achievements even better. You rise like the phoenix time and time again.
Some would simply say come back safe and sound. But that is not how we roll, is it? This game is about winning and, whatever your fate, winning is all you care about. Eyeball the others like you have never eyeballed before and remember you are King. King, I tell you.
I have so enjoyed cuddling up to you, you beautiful bay beast and stroking that lovely white strip down your head. At times I have felt we were just meant to be. Together forever. Faugheen . . . I love you. There, I’ve said it. Now go out and do your thing. I’ll be waiting for you on your return.
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