Even as British Turf grieves a venerable king and, by the same man, its most revered and indispensable servant, I hope you will forgive me instead of thinking about the loss, only a day ago, of someone she would love. typical of all her subjects: a horseman, and a true countryman, who splits his time between the cosmopolitan bloodline and an old rectory in the Yorkshire countryside.
While we know that her great age is finally catching up with the monarch, the sudden departure of James Delahooke to a partridge in the sky has come as a shocking shock. Returning to Lexington for the September sale suddenly felt a different perspective. Who, now, will tell us what it really is? Who else will entertain and educate us with the tireless double-edged sword that is knowledge and mischief – both honed by the profound spice of life’s vicissitudes and life with horses in particular.
His career as a blood agent makes James as familiar as anyone with twin spoofs, triumphs, and disasters. And the man who stepped out to the other side was not only an accomplished judge of horses, but an equally astute observer of human nature.
James knows his mind, and how to speak his mind. And though he may be a hilariously belligerent, ultimately his wisdom is based – as it always should be – on a humility and compassion that he finds desirable. , often a frank reflection, in his young self.
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He is fed up with liars and fluent talkers, many of whom have thrived during the years of his gratuitous neglect. However, unconstrained by any pose or pretense, he has become a source of creativity and enthusiasm for renewing anyone who deserves to be shared with them, no matter their level. age or position in life.
While he’s a great racer, as a countryman who has accompanied him through airports, I’m not sure immigration officers always appreciate this talent. But in a walk of life, where too many people just say what they imagine a rich person might want to hear, it has become a guiding merit badge when it comes to seeing those who have faithfully stayed. his camp; or better those who joined it when he was out of time.
It is certainly no surprise that James should have had such a long relationship with Arthur Hancock, another man who knew both the solitude and satisfaction of the separated genius, was not without grief. pain, from the heart of the Foundation.
James’ judgment, always invaluable if sometimes underestimated, is completely independent of the market. And he can, indeed, be memorable about the crazy, pure or simply awful ways he sees other people wasting their patrons’ money.
One day, as we strive to replace the irreplaceable, we can count on the deceased to be not only a friend but a professional advisor inspired by instinct. served them very well, in search of James’s service for the first time. You can almost hear his laughter at the “tire kickers,” as he calls them, who can now amplify their unworthiness by frantically volunteering. full of his shoes. I remember he discussed a few agents then enjoyed conspicuous patronage. One, he claimed, was a very nice person but “buy meatballs – and meatballs are horribly expensive”; while the other, mostly looked down upon as an opportunist and risk-taker, actually has an extremely good eye.
Both statements are typical of James. Unfortunately, none of these people can really be described as rivals or colleagues. They were no match for him at all, because Bobby Flay was just the only one smart enough to give James adequate resources to compete for the same stock. And they weren’t colleagues because – well, because that was the difference for very few of his generation.
Danehill | Arrowfield
It was an honor to sit in his study and see his catalog notes on Hip 154 in Saratoga in 1982. A single word of warning: “Toes out a little.” And two numbers scribbled: 1.6 and 350. The first is what he told Prince Khalid Abdullah that he should expect to pay, because someone is sure to have a million and a half for a child. His Majesty’s daughter from the half-sister of the Northern Dancer. . And the second is for the $350,000 that was actually needed to buy a filth that became Danehill’s dam.
James met Prince three or four years ago, after having dinner with Guy Harwood in Deauville. When they asked for the bill, the waiter said it was taken care of – pointed out an elegant Arab gentleman passing by the restaurant. This turned out to be the man who had sent them lower for a year earlier on that day. Invited shortly after to sow the seeds of what has become one of the great shows in Turf history, within five years James purchased both the male and the dam of two Epsom Derby winners. He left an indelible legacy in the Juddmonte empire; in the seed itself; and above all in the knowledge and memories of so many friends.
James wouldn’t want our love to be misplaced, moreover a true female horsewoman like Queen Elizabeth II would wish the final Classic of the British season to be postponed (as “a… sign of respect”) when the coaches involved have fine-tuned charging to the minute. Those of us who lament James’ absence from Lexington this week know full well that he’d rather we just raise a glass in his honor – and then, very quickly, another – before sharing a few stories preserves the vivacity and absolute authenticity of your character for a long time.
In the meantime, I’m pretty sure he’ll be hoping that Arklow can garner weekend headlines, as Arch’s 8-year-old son is running 12 hooks across the grass. That way, perhaps, it won’t just be his own example that encourages us to keep looking for things that fit the Purebred.
I’d be grateful to know of some other comparable seals from which an email or written consent helps you resolve against any legitimacy; while even a slight hint of dissent prompts you to urgently review the basis of your argument. But there’s no denying that neither our business nor our community can easily feel the sudden passing of a man like James.
Okay, maybe because of that, an unbridled personality might not have made for a successful king like the one whose reign spanned most of his life. But I certainly wouldn’t be alone in missing out on guaranteed wit and wisdom, from Yorkshire to Lexington, whenever King James was in court.
