Until two days ago, I'd never before heard the name Billy Speck. Somehow I doubt that too many other people outside the racing game, have any idea who he was. For that matter, it would surprise me no end, if more than a hand full of people in every thousand who support the sport of kings even know of him. And that for me, is a crying shame. Father Time has the ugly habit of consigning each and everyone of us to oblivion. Well maybe not everyone, some will be left to be pondered over, as many in the past, are now. But for the most part, Father Time is also rather uncaring. The fog of time captures most deeds be they good or bad, and buries them all in the one anonymous grave. For most people, Billy Speck wanders unacknowledged in that pea souper. I came across a small cross section of Billy's life, while doing some back ground research on arguably the greatest fencer to have ever graced the turf, Golden Miller. Of course others will quickly offer up the name Arkle in protest, and I'll not take a stand against the brilliant Irish horse, for this is neither the time, nor the place. This article belongs to William "Billy" Speck, and to taint his memory with a debate about the merits of animals from different generations, is for me rather insulting. This man deserves to have a moment in the spot light of our age, even if it only means that we few on this site remember him for a short period. Billy was a top flight jockey who plied his trade in the early to mid-thirties, in the hunt scene. I know little of his history, but I think it's fair to assume that he probably rode from about the mid-twenties on. One of his main claims to fame, was that he was one of the main protagonists in an epic battle in a Cheltenham Gold Cup. It was a duel between man and beast, that imprinted itself deeply into the psyche of the Nation at that time. It was an event so large, that it quickly moved beyond a mere feat and was transformed into legend. We've always had these clashes of greats. Sir Gordon Richards and Scobie Breasley, War Admiral and Sea Biscuit, Kauto Star and Denman. The clash of the thirties was between Golden Miller ridden by Gerry Wilson, the 2-1 favourite, and Billy Speck on the 5-2 shot Thomond 11. Cheltenham was packed to the rafters. History tells us that Golden Miller, a horse once describes as God on four legs, would go on to win the Gold Cup, his fourth, on his way to a record 5, a feat that will probably never be matched. That duel between two pairs of supreme athletes, sowed it's seeds, three fences from the finishing line. Golden Miller at this point was under immense pressure from Thomond 11, a smallish horse with a huge heart. Things weren't looking good for the champion. Wilson was into him, scrubbing the horse along. As champions do, he lifted, and out jumped Thomond 11, but Billy wasn't about to call it a day. They sailed over the second last, locked together, but again, the Miller was too pacy for him on the flat. In desperation, Billy was forced to reach for the stick. He drove his mount at the last flight with all his might, and managed to again join the champ on landing. But it was a lost cause, for no matter how hard Billy and the big hearted horse tried, the couldn't match the Miller in the run to the post, going down by three parts of a length. But this not an article about great clashes between heroes of another time and place. This is a story dedicated to a true gentleman of the turf. William Speck was one such man. On the 10th of April 1935, Billy arrived at the Cheltenham course, unaware of what was about to befall him. Somewhere during the course of the day, or maybe even in the preceding days, Billy had fallen into conversation with his good friend and fellow jockey Tim Hamey, who's lot in life was hardly anything to write home about. Tim was struggling to make ends meet, and things seemed glum as far as his prospects looked that day. So as any good friend would do, Billy stepped in and offered to do him a favour. Tim Hamey was booked to ride a horse called Gwelo for the Len Lefebeve stable. The best that could be said about the mount, was that it was a pretty ordinary conveyance. Having next to no hope, Billy Speck engineered a straight swap with a much better chance, thus hoping to at least get a few bob into his friend's pocket. Fellow riders tried to talk him out of taking the mount, but Billy's need to help a friend was too great for him to pull the plug. At the last ditch, Gwelo dislodged Billy causing him to smash into the turf where he lay motionless. Billy had broken his spine. For the next six days, Billy fought a battle for his life, but in the end, he succumbed to his injuries. Billy had paid the ultimate price, in the name of friendship. He was just 31. http://fantasyhorseracing.webs.com/apps/blog/
