Posted by Tania Kindersley.
Well, he did it. I really need not have worried. Frankel moved like a Rolls Royce, won on the bridle, made it look easy. Excelebration, a very good horse in his own right, could not lay a glove on him. It was a five length victory, and Tom Queally hardly had to move. It was grace, and power, and sheer brilliance.
My own little Frankel was on her toes this morning. It was as if she was saying: well, what are you made of? I think perhaps the spring grass is coming through and that is putting several springs in her step. We did a lot of fast canter out in the west meadow, and it was all zoom, zoom. She would have galloped her head off if I had let her, but I decided not to. It’s still early days, and steady as she goes. At one stage, I had to say, very sternly, ‘Excuse me, but I am in charge here.’ It is only a pity that horses do not speak English. But I think she got the message.
Here she is, the little naughty, looking as if butter would not melt in her mouth:
Her view:
The unadulterated beauty that is the Pigeon:
And the hill, almost obscured by the blooming horse chestnut:
I hate to end on a sad note, but some things must be marked. In the midst of all the Frankel joy came the very sad news of the death of Brindisi Breeze, a brilliant young hurdler trained in Scotland by Lucinda Russell. His future was bright with promise. I backed him when he won this year at Cheltenham, and roared him up the hill. He was a lovely, bold horse, honest as the day is long. Very kind too, in his stable, according to his trainer. In the middle of the night, he jumped over his paddock gate and was hit by a lorry. It is such a freakish occurrence and the kind of thing that all horse owners dread.
Horses are so strong and robust in so many ways, and so fragile and unpredictable at the same time. That yard will be inconsolable tonight; there will be the awful, gaping hole of an empty box, the thing that everyone who looks after horses dreads. My heart goes out to everyone who cared for him.
