Michelle Payne – a day at the races

They came in their thousands to cup week in Melbourne, via planes, trains, automobiles and helicopters.  Beautifully coiffured, elegantly adorned and topped with feathers, fascinators and milliners’ creative designs – the girls of course.  But none achieved the adoration assigned to Michelle Payne, the little battler from Ballarat.  The youngest of 10 children whose family emigrated from Hawera NZ in the 1980’s to Ballarat in Victoria – in search of their own El dorado, in a town long since past its days of fame and fortune.  But Darren Weir (the trainer), Michelle Payne and Prince Of Penzance returned the glory days via a 3 minute horse race in which the winners purse is over $3.0 million and the jockeys sling – 10%.  The 100:1 long shot will have had thousands of ‘a dollar each way’ bets on it simply because Prince Of Penzance and Michelle Payne wearing the mauve and white checks, dark green sleeves and cap, being the only female rider among the field of 24.  Huge crowd, sponsors tents, international celebrities, foreign interests in horses, trainers and jockeys.  The prize money and gold cup a lure like no other.  The city of Melbourne goes off for a week and makes the Wellington 7’s dress up party look working class.  The preening, posing and photographing at Flemington is just as fuelled by narcissism and bubbly beverages as the partying at the cake tin except the attendance is three times the number and the costumery, much more expensive.  This is a fashion show with a horse race thrown in – until the bubbly beverage kicks in or the rains come down and suddenly it turns into Courtenay Place on the nights of the 7’s.

The international celebrities remain behind closed doors and retain their demeanour (one would surmise) – the rest emerge from the stands and the lawns in front, heading back to Flinders and Southern Cross station via train.  The sights vary from embarrassing to hilarious.  All ages and both genders represented and mostly having a great time.  Whilst the spirits are high behaviour is controlled (mostly) and the occasion non-threatening.  It’s just that on the edges you see and experience a hint of things being not quite as ordered and germane.  The homeless ensconced under the bridges and free ways, the beggars sleeping on footpaths outside the main stations, the gun toting police, the political turmoil exposed and extolled in the many daily papers, the omnipresent swagger from rubbish collector to bus driver, bartender to baggage man (all polite mind you) – but mostly the Michelle Payne interview.  This was a young lass who had just won one of the richest thoroughbred races in the world, and she felt the need to lambast her industry.

Her ‘get stuffed’ announcement will go down in history just as she will for being the first woman jockey to win this most prestigious of horse races.  Typically of her gender she was full of praise for those that have assisted her road to stardom – from Bart Cummins to Darren Weir but mostly for her beloved brother, Stevie.  The Down Syndrome ninth child in the Payne brood who lives with his youngest sister and is employed as a strapper at the Weir stables in Ballarat.

Stevie and Michelle have recently purchased a block of land together, nearby to Dads property in Ballarat.  Her intention is to train and agist young horses – with Stevie by her side.  The mutual affection is obvious – such a story.  The two young-ins of the Payne family of 10 who lost their mother when Michelle was only six months old and brother Stevie – 2.  Paddy Payne deserves a medal.  He kept his family together through thick and thin in the most chauvinistic and competitive of sports.  Seven of the Payne children took up riding but it was the two youngest, Stevie and Michelle that delivered big time on a day at the races that I will never forget.  Nor will I forget the picture of the Payne sisters arms around their little sister, all beautifully attired from top to toe.  The picture we will never see is that of Dad, at home in his favoured armchair, on his own centre stage watching the race that stops two nations whilst his two little-ins took their centre stage at Flemington.  His reward, the happy faces of his children.

The racing industry has two wonderfully positive attributes: in the majority the people involved live a life of positive intent – the glass predominantly half full.  They celebrate success and enjoy the moment, usually with abundant generosity.  Not a bad couple of life values.