Constitution Hill sends crowd into delirium on strange evening at Southwell

I didn’t really know what to expect when I travelled down to Nottinghamshire on Friday afternoon, but I knew I was in for one of the stranger nights of racing I’ll have this year.

A £40k novice race for older horses is, in itself, strange.

A crowd upwards of 3,500 at a course more regular host to classifieds than class acts on a brisk February evening is quite out of the ordinary.

A lively PA announcer – who did a fantastic job of keeping up a sense of occasion throughout the night - enthusiastically declaring “here comes Rab Havlin!” as the jockeys left the weighing room to Freed From Desire wasn’t something I’d encountered in the build-up to the second division of 0-70 before either.

I admit though, I like that I live in a world where that happens.

Throw in a healthy cohort of student racegoers and the other attractions that entails, the speed dating and the DJ sets, I couldn’t shake the sense that this was as close to a novelty night of racing as I’d experienced before; an equine equivalent to YouTuber boxing, adjacent to the sport but in a repackaged, impure form.

Of course, the fact that all this was caused by the presence of one horse having his first Flat start; a nine-year-old former point-to-pointer, a Blue Bresil gelding out of a King’s Theatre mare, perhaps encompassed the absurdity of the whole event, perhaps even more so after the brief uncertainty during the week as to whether the star of the show would even be allowed to take centre stage.

But Constitution Hill is an absurdly talented horse, one who draws an unrivalled amount of attention and support from the racing fraternity and beyond, and for Nicky Henderson, Michael Buckley and everyone connected with the former champion, the evening couldn’t have felt anything other than deadly serious.

Very rarely is there such a sense of jeopardy surrounding horses of Constitution Hill’s ability. Frankel’s career was, for the most part, procession after procession. The likes of Altior and Big Buck’s ran up winning sequences stretching season upon season. But Constitution Hill suddenly seemed vulnerable in his prime, forced to be playing away games. If things had gone to plan, if he’d successfully negotiated more than the one flight at Gosforth Park, the notion of him having a spin on the all-weather less than three weeks out from the Champion Hurdle would’ve surely been derided by all commentators. How soft of an option could you want?

And yet, this didn’t feel like a soft option. It may have been whispered, but it wasn’t an uncommon view among people I spoke to during the week that this run on the Flat might spell the end of Constitution Hill’s career, the notion that he’d be soundly beaten and promptly retired a distinct possibility. Remember, he was utterly lacklustre at Punchestown the last time he was able to get a clean round in. I wasn’t quite as drastically sceptical, but I admit that every member of my party backed Square Necker on the night, each of us thinking the horse with clearly the best Flat form was a knocking bet at 9/4.

Logically, the head must rule over the heart when punting, but it wasn’t to confirm that Square Necker was in good shape that we joined the swell of people, four or five deep, around the parade ring. Everyone wanted a glimpse of Constitution Hill, every camera fixed on him, and then on Nicky and Oisin.

The stands were chock-a-block by the time we’d made our way from the parade ring to the front of the track, so it was a less-than-ideal vantage point on the tarmac behind the bookies’ pitches for the lads. We had to settle for quite an obscured view, but others had been able to secure benches - to stand on, of course, not to sit - for a clean sight of the tapeta.

There was a real roar as the field passed the crowd for the first time to head onto the second circuit and, aside from the tapes going up at the start of the Cheltenham Festival, I haven’t heard a noise on a racecourse before quite like the one when the champion loomed up swinging early in the straight, Square Necker well and truly covered by Oisin Murphy. It was inevitable we’d have to stop cheering on our bet and start cheering on the sport. Six, seven, eight, nine and more. Demolition. Delirium.

Celebrations begin more than a furlong out.

Just surreal. Fists in the air, people bouncing up and down. My friends with their hands on their heads in disbelief. I’m just laughing. A stranger is hugging anyone within proximity. This is a novice at Southwell. He is a nine-year-old by Blue Bresil. This is madness.

I’ve been in some fantastic racing crowds before, Honeysuckle’s poignant sign-off victory in the Mares’ Hurdle standing out as a particularly spine-tingling moment, but I recall the sheer emotion there, the outpouring of admiration for the De Bromhead family, the strength of that feeling coming post-race rather than in the heat of the battle. Friday night was different. This was partisan at the off and pandemonium at the finish.

Never have I been in an atmosphere so unanimously behind one horse. Even the greatest of optimists, the most romantic of romantics, surely couldn’t have seen this unfolding in such a striking manner. I receive several messages from non-racing friends later in the evening, and by the time I arrive home, just after midnight, he’s still the top trend on Twitter in the UK. He cuts through.

And I don’t think it should be underestimated that it came in front of a crowd featuring a really healthy number of young people. I know student racedays aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I think they now hold vital places in the calendar.

I’m aware that, as someone still clinging onto my mid-20s, I may still be somewhat predisposed to thinking the bulk of these racedays look like good fun rather than an inconvenience, but the feedback I’ve been given by friends whose first taste of racing was through Invades has been overwhelmingly positive.

The criticism I see levelled towards these initiatives most often are that the students don’t particularly engage with the racing product itself, but that’s never bothered me. I’ve always been of the opinion that it doesn’t really matter if any first-time racegoer leaves the track able to name a horse or have any grasp of what an each-way bet is; as long as they go home associating going racing with having a good time, then it's a significant win for the sport.

If the primary attraction to a racecourse is a day on the booze, or to get some nice pics for Insta, then so be it, whatever floats your boat. I’ve been in that boat myself before. I love racing, I’m lucky enough to work in the industry, but I’d be lying if I claimed to be a complete purist whose sole focus is on the calibre of the sport. A day out with friends at a local course would be significantly more attractive than going to watch the best of the best at Royal Ascot on my own. If the racing itself isn’t always the be all and end all for someone who lives and breathes the game, how could we expect it to be for a complete novice?

I take that some Invades days don't lend themselves particularly well to getting up close and personal with the action. At York, for example, the student area is centred in a marquee on the inside of the track, quite separate to the remainder of the racegoers.

On Friday night, though, it felt impossible to ignore the racing. It felt impossible to ignore the star horse. I guarantee every single student would’ve left Southwell familiar with the name Constitution Hill. Even more importantly, the vast majority of them would’ve seen the adoration with which he was met by racing folk, grown adults sprinting to the winners' enclosure to welcome their hero back in. Sure, I don’t mind the gimmicks at all. It’s nice to have a DJ on and I’d wager it’s even nicer to say you’ve blagged a date with Oisin Murphy in a segment I’m sure those captaining the Friday Night Lights ship would still consider a “work in progress,” but the racehorse was why most people travelled to Nottinghamshire on Friday. The racehorse was most important.

As a whole, I doubt the sport could’ve made a better impression on a newbie than it would’ve done on Friday night. What a reminder of just how much one good horse can be worth to the game. 106P. Bloody hell. A good horse indeed.

The racing gods were kind on Friday night. Cynics among us thought we might have been getting a circus, but Nicky Henderson and Constitution Hill ensured we got an evening that showcased this great game at its very best. Yes, it was a novice at Southwell, but it felt like an important moment. Let us pray again that there’s an even more significant one – maybe at Cheltenham, maybe at Flemington, who knows, I only know it’s not a decision I’d want to make either way – still to come.

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