Ascot Saturday: Frankie Dettori bows out in style

sportinglife.com
 
Ascot Saturday: Frankie Dettori bows out in style

There was a sense of inevitability about it all.

Even though King Of Steel never looked happy through the QIPCO Champion Stakes at Ascot. Labouring in the rear of the field, desperately trying to get traction on the rain-sodden turf. A giant son of Wootton Bassett, he carried the hopes of a packed and vociferous Ascot crowd on his shoulders.

He was Frankie Dettori’s final British ride. They’d already roared him down and back on Trawlerman in the Long Distance Cup but that momentum had stalled.

Kinross was touched off despite hitting the front late in the Sprint, the rain came and one-by-one the rest of the final day famous five floundered in the mud.

But not this one. He was having his own day in the sun – well gloom – and sending Frankie to Hollywood in a manner befitting his career.

Somehow, despite the Italian seemingly holding onto fresh air as they turned for home, horse and rider found the rhythm and momentum they needed. Stride by stride, in an attritional final furlong, it carried them to and past Via Sistina.

Whoever writes the Dettori scripts had saved a belter for the UK season finale. Perhaps their best yet.

The return to the winners’ enclosure was greeted by chants from the front and back of the grandstand. Interviews, presentations with the full family beaming proudly by his side.

Everyone wanted a piece of him. But when it was the turn of the written press the rider had one request, to watch the final three furlongs as the replay played on the big screen.

“I’m thinking let’s switch to the outside…we did…but I’m never going to catch him,” he wipes his chin. They’re two out now.

“I give him a slap – and he went – and I’m thinking maybe I’ll get placed now.”

Now a furlong out.

“Ooh – hang on – now I think yes. What a feeling. What a feeling. It’s so hard to describe.”

But he does, in a manner that takes you inside the mind of the greatest jockey of his generation. On an afternoon he – and countless more – will never forget.

“I had the same surreal moment when I won my first Group One on Mark Of Esteem. Everything goes dark. The euphoria feeling hits you,” he says.

“This can’t be right; this isn’t real life. This is perhaps some dream. Then I realise it isn’t and you just feel numb. It’s hard to explain. I felt like I’d cry but I’m too happy to cry if I’m honest. I didn’t expect this. It’s fantastic. What a day, what a day.

“The first race was mad, but this was another level to even the Royal Ascot winner too. Everyone was cheering for me. They built it up to be my last race so everybody was up for it, and it couldn’t have worked out better.

“The chanting, ‘ooh Frankie Dettori’ was special and that’s one thing I’m going to miss. I won’t get that in America, I’m fairly new over there. But this year has been memorable, from the beginning of the season. I wanted to finish at the top and you don’t get more at the top than this. I’m very proud of what I’ve done in my career and this season.”

It’s been truly remarkable year, a succession of Group One winners that started with Chaldean in the QIPCO 2000 Guineas and rolled through Epsom, Royal Ascot and York aboard Emily Upjohn, Soul Sister, Courage Mon Ami and Mostahdaf. He thought it couldn’t be topped – until the final ten strides of the fifth race at Ascot on October 21st.

2023 has been so good he couldn’t bow out. Not with petrol left in the tank. So, the next phase begins – under blue Californian skies.

“I go to Santa Anita on Wednesday, regroup, go to the States and then before Christmas I’ll be moving there for good. I’ll have my first ride on Boxing Day,” he said.

And still they probed, surely this wasn’t really THE farewell to British shores. After all King Of Steel might be back next summer, so will his rider?

“At the moment I’m focusing on my American adventure. I need to make myself well known over there and be there every day. I have no plans to come back,” and with that he was whisked away. For more photo opportunities, TV interviews, a shower and a farewell dinner.

Maybe at some stage it will hit him. This wasn’t a dream, the adrenaline will finally drop to allow the tears to flow.

The farewell tour hasn’t been everyone’s cup of tea, the decision to ride on certainly wasn’t.

But it’s time to say thank you to a man who more than any other in the last 30 years has fought racing’s battle for column inches and national exposure. Who’s been able to lift seemingly mundane afternoons into sporting occasions those of us fortunate enough to be there to witness will never forget.

A peerless big-race jockey, whose mistakes on the great worldwide stages over 36 years can be counted on the fingers of one hand.

When you’re this good knowing when to go must be impossible. In the Ascot press bunker they were still tapping their nose on Saturday evening, ‘don’t worry he’ll be back’.

Maybe. But when your first farewell is as perfect as this, would you really risk another?

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