Legendary jump jockeys from different shores, Ireland's Eddie Harty and America's Joe Aitcheson, met at the 1970 Colonial Cup.
Just in case you ever wondered about the international implications of the Colonial Cup, America’s first $100,000 steeplechase, the following ought to sum it up. The excerpt comes from a chapter on Eddie Harty in the book “Steeplechase Jockeys: The Great Ones,” by Tim Fitzgeorge-Parker. The father of current American-based flat trainer Eoin Harty (Colonel John, etc.), Eddie Harty was a legendary Irish jump jockey who won the 1969 Grand National at Aintree. Among other moments in a lengthy career, he rode in the first Colonial Cup – back in 1970.
No foreign visitors were more at home than (Eddie Harty and trainer Toby Balding) when the first Colonial Cup International ’chase was contested at Camden, South Carolina in November 1970, and it would be hard to find better ambassadors for British sport.
For many of us this ambitious event, sponsored by the local ’chasing and foxhunting enthusiasts, as spoilt by an apparent total neglect of the needs and comfort of the general public, which was unhappily emphasized by the pouring rain, the absence of betting in the “dry” puritan state, and appalling public relations contrasting vividly with the brilliance of John Schapiro’s hospitality at Laurel Park.
None of us newcomers to racing in the deep South really believed that a £42,000 race could be staged on a private track with fewer amenities than any British point-to-point. We were quickly undeceived.
The course has hitherto been used only once a year for the Carolina Cup. The two mile six and a half furlong circuit is laid out on Marion du Pont Scott’s fantastic private park, a holiday centre for famous flat horses, and it resembles a championship golf course more than a racetrack. There is no covered stand – just a small raised dais.
These fabulously rich hunting people belong to a tiny world, virtually unknown to the remainder of the United States. They stage their meetings and race their horses for their own enjoyment and for their friends and appear to take a pride in being a hundred years behind the times. Seventy-seven of them sportingly guaranteed $3,000 each for the event, and even though only 9,000 people turned up to watch it, they and their friends are queuing up to sponsor the Colonial Cup again.
I admire their spirit and their sportsmanship and freely admit that it is a wonderful life for those in the inner circle. I submit, however, that any great international venture of this type must be given proper publicity, tote betting and television coverage, and must be set out primarily to provide true entertainment with all the amenities for the people. What, after all, does the word “popular” mean in our democratic age?
British Jockey Club member, Roscoe Harvey, our former chief stipendiary steward acting as a guest steward for the race, said: “You need a top-class British hurdler, not a ’chaser. Our hurdles are tougher than these fences.”
Nevertheless Eddie’s mount, Big Valley, nearly came down at the eighth of the 17 log-based brush fences.
Eddie said: “Big Valley would probably have been in the money if he hadn’t taken off too soon and almost fallen at the eighth. He ran great, but he miss-timed that fence because we need bigger obstacles.”
The Americans duly finished first, second and third. Ireland’s Cheltenham Gold Cup winner L’Escargot, nominated United States ’Chaser of the Year, ran best of the other five nations’ entries to finish fourth.
The race had been run at a great gallop in teeming rain. Both Eddie and I, with considerable joint experience of point-to-points in England and Ireland, agreed that the jockeys’ changing facilities, consisting of just one plain marquee with no furniture, were worse than we had ever encountered at the humblest hunt meeting.
Big Valley had finished in the middle of the big field. His jockey was soaked through and covered with mud.
Eddie turned to the American champion, that brilliant forty-two year old veteran Joe Aitcheson, who had won the race with Top Bid. “Is there anywhere I could get a wash?” he asked.
Joe looked up and said kindly: “If you go out now, you might catch the end of the rain!”
That made Harty’s day. It was the sort of remark he would have produced himself.
