I was fortunate to get to know Ferdy pretty well before his move to France. He wasn't aloof and too full of his own importance like many in racing. He was just genuine. One of the few who would make a point of walking over to say hello and having a chat wherever it was or whatever he was doing. Always asking about the family before anything else. A man who always had time when others always seemed to have no time at all.
He's actually (kind of) responsible for the biggest winning day I've ever had. Not from a tip from him, which he rarely gave other than to say a horse was well, but from getting to know him I thought I could predict him and his ability to lay one out. Anyhow, I started backing Naiad du Misselot for the Coral Cup as soon as the first prices were up, and I backed him from big prices antepost all the way down to several big bets on the day, even last minute at his starting price of 7/1 which was far too short. Such I was convinced he'd win. The amounts prior to the day had already been too big and too often. By the off I had completely lost track of what I had on. I'd also told pretty much everyone I knew to get on I was that sure he'd win.
The diminishing nose he won by was possibly the hardest finish I've ever had to watch. I pretty much lost my voice shouting him up the hill, and from where I watched the race I was convinced he'd been done on the line. When the announcement came through and he'd won I could barely believe it, and what little was left of my voice was pretty much finished off by being in full celebration mode for the rest of the day.
By the start of the final race I was probably already beyond 'three sheets', and hadn't realised the County Hurdle was off. Then amongst large gulps of Guinness I heard the words 'and here comes Silver Jaro challenging on the outside'. What was left of my voice was completely gone when Silver Jaro crossed the line and I'd had £50 on the Tote at something like 60 odd pounds. For those of you that remember, Silver Jaro beat a good thing of Tony Martin's called Psycho. To this day still I thank Paul Carberry whenever I see him for hanging on to Psycho for too long', leaving Silver Jaro the winner by a fast diminishing neck that would have been gone in less than another stride.
Anyway Naiad du Misselot, and to a lesser extent Silver Jaro, paid for a lot of champagne that night for me and large group of mates. We pretty much drank the Plough in Prestbury dry, and god knows where we ended up afterwards. I was due to go home that evening but ended up sleeping on the floor in someones else's B&B. They were gone when I woke feeling like death in my coat and racing gear the following morning, and to this day I have no idea where or who's room I stayed in. Anyway, I got home and when I was able, I went through my accounts and added my account winnings to my cash winnings. It turned out I'd won £25k on Naiad du Misselot and a further £3.3k on Silver Jaro. I thought it was going to be around £10k, and less than that having having blown about a third of it in on an alcohol fuelled evening. The hangover was helped massively when I found that I'd won over £28k on two horses. Happy days.
I was fortunate to meet up with Ferdy two or three weeks later, and I told him about the day I'd had thanks to him. I bought him dinner that evening, and over a pint beforehand, I can't remember the exact words he used, he essentially said he liked the horse and reckoned it had a chance, but the push all the way down to 7/1 wasn't stable confidence, and nobody could understand where the money was coming from. Yes, there'd been a bit of stable/owner money on, but he'd been far less confident than me. They thought the price was ludicrous, and saw him going off at 12's-14's. So it seems rather than being the smart guy I thought I was, I was actually just the luckiest deluded gambler in Cheltenham!
Anyway enough ramblings and reminiscing. Ferdy wasn't just a really good trainer with an eye for a horse, one who was a multiple Festival winner who punched well above his weight. I'll remember him more for just being a thoroughly good bloke. Salt of the earth. Someone I got to know as a friend, who was as genuine as they come. I might only have seen him a couple of times since his move to France, but my world is a worse place without him.
Ferdy oversaw the operation from the Durkan's Glencullen base.
