Viva La Rambler

They say all good things come to an end and so it proved this week when the good guys at Lucinda Russell Racing along with a loving set of owners decided the time was right to give Corach Rambler a well earned retirement. In honour of this fabulous equine talent who has thrilled us with his maverick ability, enamoured us with his loveable nature and stunned us with his big race wins, here’s a poem I wrote shortly after his first Cheltenham Festival victory back in 2022.

Scotland’s Champ

Winter’s in its final furlong, spring is on the way.

Grand old Cleeve Hill, a morning chill,

the stage set for a bay.

Frosts are few and far between, the nights are growing longer.

Cheltenhams here, the craic, the beer, shattered dreams, lost wonga.

The Irish land with equine greats, the English they are waiting.

But they forgot one Scottish boy, a maverick, no debating.

He’d hit the deck at Ascot, cantered round Aintree.

A victory at Prestbury, would send them home with glee.

The press branded him quirky, they’d soon be proved so wrong.

His fencing a mixed bag of tricks, but definitely on song.

A jockey poised with steadfast faith, now jumping big and bold.

Those purple silks and yellow star, a rare sight to behold.

One by one they dropped away, his rivals legs so weary.

But Leven’s lad was staying on, by god he’d leave us teary.

Third at the last, he’d work to do, but still there was a glimmer.

When up the famous hill he came, Corach was Scotland’s winner.