“Oh, Derby day still gives me the same buzz. This is what we do it for. At 65, all the enthusiasm is unimpaired and, anyway, I’d like to think I’m not over the top yet,” booms the master trainer, roaring with laughter. “I’m a bit like Alex Ferguson, and he’s older than me, 70 next year!”
Except that just a week after his old friend’s latest dream was splattered with his Manchester United side never at the races, run into the ground by a string of classic Catalan thoroughbreds, the man who has trained a few winners for Sir Alex is hoping his own date with history on Saturday proves rather more fulfilling after a trying week.
Of course, Stoute can sense a special day in his career, one when racing takes hold of the national psyche as he trains the Queen’s potential horse of a lifetime, Carlton House. Yet, just as Ferguson was seeking to equal Bob Paisley’s record of three European Cup triumphs last week, Stoute is also on the verge of an extraordinary personal landmark by training a sixth Derby winner, thus equalling the modern-day record of the peerless Vincent O’Brien.
“O’Brien will always be my hero because of what he did in every sphere of our profession. I could never have imagined having the chance to get anywhere near that record when I first came to England from Barbados at 19,” says Stoute.
“I wasn’t even certain then I’d ever end up training at all in this country, so to have five winners has been wonderful.” And wouldn’t a sixth one for the Queen, 30 years to the day since he primed Shergar for glory — “I’ve never trained a middle-distance horse so exceptional” – stand as the defining achievement of his 39-year career?
“Well I don’t get into all the hypotheticals. There are very few fairytales in this world; he’s got to get there and win, then you can talk about all the rest. Obviously, there’s been hoopla surrounding this race and there’s always little worries of things going wrong but you just have to try to keep things calm.”
Little worries? You can imagine just how critical Stoute’s tranquility has been around his Freemason Lodge stables in Newmarket since Carlton House suffered the injury which put a cloud over the colt’s participation.
Carlton House’s well-being is in the most brilliant of hands but Stoute deflects all the plaudits which see him painted as some sort of equestrian Dr Doolittle. His secret? “Well, I think it’s that I just love the job. That enthusiasm’s fiercely important. At 65, I don’t need to get better but it’s proven that experience counts. Look at some football managers and how well they’re doing in their late 60s. Like Walter Smith and Alex.”
The one thing he hates most, he says, is having to tell an owner that his or her “athletes” — that’s how he refers to his horses — are injured. Ferguson does not have to inform the Queen when Ryan Giggs goes lame. “Yes, it’s high pressure but nobody begs us to do the job,” Stoute says. “It’s a wonderful life, you must remember that.”
He talks of the teamwork, about “we” rather than “me” and about the critical inter-dependence between himself and his excellent staff. It sounds as if he would do anything rather than blow his own trumpet, probably because he likes to play his aces close to his chest.
Journalists, to Stoute, are largely a waste of his precious time. He is giving this rare interview because, with the Queen’s tale being such a godsend, the industry’s publicists have enlisted his help in promoting the Qipco British Champions Series, of which the Derby is a part.
“I’ve been talking more than normal,” he says, deadpan. “And I bet you love that?” I suggest. “Take a guess,” he chuckles. But even while you know you are being kept at arm’s length, he does it charmingly, laughing heartily and often, especially when the subject turns to his other great sporting love, cricket.
Like any good Barbadian he waxes lyrical about the three Ws and Sir Garfield Sobers and tells of how great it is to have his mate Michael Holding whispering round the gallops when not on Sky commentary duty.
“It was a religion for us being brought up, a huge part of the culture. I played for the second XI at school but, sadly, my enthusiasm was greater than my ability,” he recalls.
Stoute also remembers training his first winner in 1964. It was himself. In the mile and 880 yards on college sports day. Because the school had no athletics coach, he took out some athletics training manuals from the library and coached himself to victory. “It certainly taught me about a few things not to do when I started training horses,” he laughs.
He thinks himself a lucky man. His love for the sport blossomed in Barbados because his father, the island’s chief of police, bought a house next door to the Garrison Savannah racecourse where he could spend hours hanging over the fence studying the “athletes”.
He was “exceptionally fortunate” too that his father’s friend had once been a neighbour of British trainer Pat Rohan and wrote a letter on Michael’s behalf so that when the teenager turned up in Yorkshire, somewhat bemused, he was to receive three years “wonderful grounding” in all aspects the sport.
The rest? Racing history, of course. Ten champion trainers’ titles, 15 Classics, 150 major wins worldwide, including an Arc and a Champion hurdle, all the while building one of Europe’s most powerful stables and boasting along the way the support, almost uniquely, of practically every major owner in the game.
In Sir Michael, it seems, they still trust. He still drives himself ferociously hard to keep them happy, keeping fit by swimming in his on-site pool — “when you’ve been born next to the sea, a swimming pool’s a poor substitute” — and he’s even given up his beloved ciggies which, one suspects, would have come in handy this week.
“The motivation for me is simple; just to keep moving, remaining successful.” And can he still see himself training at 75? “Well, you’ve got to go year by year and I always believe the owners retire you. If all of a sudden, you see the quality dissipating, you know they think you’re getting over the top,” he says.
“Look at Alex. He almost packed in at 60 and nearly made the mistake of his life. So even though you sound as if you’re trying very hard to retire me, I haven’t rehearsed my own retirement yet!”
And with that booming laugh, the interview is politely ended. There are more winners to be trained and more fairytales to be written. For as the big man keeps telling himself: “It’s a wonderful life.”
Except that just a week after his old friend’s latest dream was splattered with his Manchester United side never at the races, run into the ground by a string of classic Catalan thoroughbreds, the man who has trained a few winners for Sir Alex is hoping his own date with history on Saturday proves rather more fulfilling after a trying week.
Of course, Stoute can sense a special day in his career, one when racing takes hold of the national psyche as he trains the Queen’s potential horse of a lifetime, Carlton House. Yet, just as Ferguson was seeking to equal Bob Paisley’s record of three European Cup triumphs last week, Stoute is also on the verge of an extraordinary personal landmark by training a sixth Derby winner, thus equalling the modern-day record of the peerless Vincent O’Brien.
“O’Brien will always be my hero because of what he did in every sphere of our profession. I could never have imagined having the chance to get anywhere near that record when I first came to England from Barbados at 19,” says Stoute.
“I wasn’t even certain then I’d ever end up training at all in this country, so to have five winners has been wonderful.” And wouldn’t a sixth one for the Queen, 30 years to the day since he primed Shergar for glory — “I’ve never trained a middle-distance horse so exceptional” – stand as the defining achievement of his 39-year career?
“Well I don’t get into all the hypotheticals. There are very few fairytales in this world; he’s got to get there and win, then you can talk about all the rest. Obviously, there’s been hoopla surrounding this race and there’s always little worries of things going wrong but you just have to try to keep things calm.”
Little worries? You can imagine just how critical Stoute’s tranquility has been around his Freemason Lodge stables in Newmarket since Carlton House suffered the injury which put a cloud over the colt’s participation.
Carlton House’s well-being is in the most brilliant of hands but Stoute deflects all the plaudits which see him painted as some sort of equestrian Dr Doolittle. His secret? “Well, I think it’s that I just love the job. That enthusiasm’s fiercely important. At 65, I don’t need to get better but it’s proven that experience counts. Look at some football managers and how well they’re doing in their late 60s. Like Walter Smith and Alex.”
The one thing he hates most, he says, is having to tell an owner that his or her “athletes” — that’s how he refers to his horses — are injured. Ferguson does not have to inform the Queen when Ryan Giggs goes lame. “Yes, it’s high pressure but nobody begs us to do the job,” Stoute says. “It’s a wonderful life, you must remember that.”
He talks of the teamwork, about “we” rather than “me” and about the critical inter-dependence between himself and his excellent staff. It sounds as if he would do anything rather than blow his own trumpet, probably because he likes to play his aces close to his chest.
Journalists, to Stoute, are largely a waste of his precious time. He is giving this rare interview because, with the Queen’s tale being such a godsend, the industry’s publicists have enlisted his help in promoting the Qipco British Champions Series, of which the Derby is a part.
“I’ve been talking more than normal,” he says, deadpan. “And I bet you love that?” I suggest. “Take a guess,” he chuckles. But even while you know you are being kept at arm’s length, he does it charmingly, laughing heartily and often, especially when the subject turns to his other great sporting love, cricket.
“It was a religion for us being brought up, a huge part of the culture. I played for the second XI at school but, sadly, my enthusiasm was greater than my ability,” he recalls.
Stoute also remembers training his first winner in 1964. It was himself. In the mile and 880 yards on college sports day. Because the school had no athletics coach, he took out some athletics training manuals from the library and coached himself to victory. “It certainly taught me about a few things not to do when I started training horses,” he laughs.
He thinks himself a lucky man. His love for the sport blossomed in Barbados because his father, the island’s chief of police, bought a house next door to the Garrison Savannah racecourse where he could spend hours hanging over the fence studying the “athletes”.
He was “exceptionally fortunate” too that his father’s friend had once been a neighbour of British trainer Pat Rohan and wrote a letter on Michael’s behalf so that when the teenager turned up in Yorkshire, somewhat bemused, he was to receive three years “wonderful grounding” in all aspects the sport.
The rest? Racing history, of course. Ten champion trainers’ titles, 15 Classics, 150 major wins worldwide, including an Arc and a Champion hurdle, all the while building one of Europe’s most powerful stables and boasting along the way the support, almost uniquely, of practically every major owner in the game.
In Sir Michael, it seems, they still trust. He still drives himself ferociously hard to keep them happy, keeping fit by swimming in his on-site pool — “when you’ve been born next to the sea, a swimming pool’s a poor substitute” — and he’s even given up his beloved ciggies which, one suspects, would have come in handy this week.
“The motivation for me is simple; just to keep moving, remaining successful.” And can he still see himself training at 75? “Well, you’ve got to go year by year and I always believe the owners retire you. If all of a sudden, you see the quality dissipating, you know they think you’re getting over the top,” he says.
“Look at Alex. He almost packed in at 60 and nearly made the mistake of his life. So even though you sound as if you’re trying very hard to retire me, I haven’t rehearsed my own retirement yet!”
And with that booming laugh, the interview is politely ended. There are more winners to be trained and more fairytales to be written. For as the big man keeps telling himself: “It’s a wonderful life.”
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