The death last week of Julian Wilson reminded me of falling in love with the sport of horse racing in the early 1970s. No-one in my family had the slightest interest in, or knowledge of the sport but it captured my imagination. I was unashamedly a BBC-boy. I was charmed by the trilby-doffing John Rickman on ITV and intrigued by the racing-riding stories of the 4th Baron Trevithin, Lord John Oaksey who combined pithy insight with taking part in some of the top steeplechases but the BBC had the pick of the racing calendar and one of the greatest commentators in sport, (now Sir) Peter O’Sullevan. He and Julian Wilson made a formidable team, backed by the journalist Clive Graham who, from memory, was in his element in the paddock. I drank in everything they said. Sir Peter’s imperious race-calling told me everything I needed to know and Julian looked as if he lived and breathed thoroughbred racing every day, which I’m sure he did. Always immaculately turned out, like the horses he spoke about, Julian Wilson was horse racing as far I was concerned.
My earliest memories are of watching the Grand National and the Cheltenham Festival but I do remember coming home from school in June 1972 just as Roberto pipped Rheingold to win the closest Derby in years. I remember – too – watching the peerless Mill Reef, partnered by Geoff Lewis and his great rival, Brigadier Gerard, or “The Brigadier” as Sir Peter used to refer to him. The richly anticipated contest between the two horses – the 1972 King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes – never happened because Mill Reef had to retire after fracturing a leg on the gallops. The two horses had met once – in the 1971 2000 Guineas – when “The Brigadier” prevailed.
More than just a love of horse racing though, Messrs O’Sullevan and Wilson helped fire my nascent love of broadcasting which was to be my career for more than a quarter-of-a-century. During that time, I made several visits to Cheltenham and Aintree, and was also the BBC TV News reporter for the 1996 Derby at Epsom. From my vantage point on top of the Tote building, I recalled the exploits of Roberto and Troy, garnished with the words of the masters of their craft. I felt extremely privileged to be doing the job I was.
I was fortunate enough to meet both Sir Peter O’Sullevan and Julian Wilson in the course of my work as a BBC journalist. Julian was unfailingly helpful on the occasions I had to call him and Sir Peter was courtesy itself when I met him at Cheltenham in the early 90s. He was to be a guest on the One O’Clock television news, a pre-recorded interview because racing would have started by the time it was needed for broadcast. To my great embarrassment, we kept Sir Peter in position and wired up for more than fifteen minutes while the presenter of the programme made his way to the studio. There’s only so much small talk you can make in situations like that and I could tell Sir Peter was ever-so-slightly annoyed at the delay. He was charm itself, though, and when the interview finally took place, he responded to every question as if it were the first time he’d been asked it (it certainly wasn’t).
With Julian Wilson’s passing, Sir Peter is probably the last of that golden generation still with us. Magnificent horses, wonderfully evocative commentaries, my childhood.
Duncan Jones
Twitter: @duncanjones64
Blog:http://shesstillmymum.wordpress.com/
Memory added on August 5, 2021
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