Galorama-#2 novembre 2024 Novembre 2024 | Page 115

ENGLISH TEXTS
But after all , who cares ! You can ’ t win every time . It was a very beautiful day , like the day before on Saturday , and that ’ s what matters above all . We may not have seen a champion , but all those who came had a great day .
NICOLAS BERTRAN DE BALANDA

1

It ’ s probably Trypolo , one of my father ’ s best horses when I was a child . He had been relegated from a Prix La Haye Jousselin , harshly in my opinion , and had won the Maurice Gillois . He was grey , and kids love greys . There ’ s also Katko , of course .

2

It ’ s really a difficult question because there are different kinds of chasers , each with their style and their record . Vautour made a huge impression on me at Cheltenham . In France , I would say So French . He had all the qualities and I adored him . He was very classy . He exuded quality . I also really liked the colors of Magalen Bryant , who has done so much for French jump racing .

3

Of course , it sounds strange at first , but you need to know the details . A regular at Auteuil , attached to that landscape , might initially reject the idea , but if the project is more feasible at Auteuil than at ParisLongchamp , you shouldn ’ t close the door . I try to keep an open mind , so we need to consider the pros and cons . If it can contribute to improving the situation , nothing should be off-limits .

4

The winner was my favorite , so I was happy to see her win ( prediction made the day before the race , editor ’ s note ). I thought it was a beautiful race , as often in the Arc . There may not have been a great champion at the start , but the winner is certainly exceptional . She ’ s a magnificent filly and her performances throughout the season have been very good . She handled the distance well , accelerated notably , and fought hard . She ’ s a good winner . The Vermeille-Arc double is never easy .
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BERNARD DE CROIX

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Images , scenes from Auteuil that are now so distant that they sometimes merge between memory and imagination ... What is the first of these memories ? Perhaps the long queues in front of the ticket offices where , having emerged en masse from the Porte d ’ Auteuil metro station , racegoers bought their tickets before crossing the track via a sandy path . Or perhaps the three infields , on which life sparkled . There were wooden huts in which glass bottles , white for mint , red for grenadine and yellow for lemon , overlooked a stall of sandwiches with pâté , sausage or herring fillets , a stall on which an antique percolator , a metal pyramid , spouted Viandox , coffee or hot chocolate through a seemingly magical manipulation . Perhaps it was the first time I galloped between the big open ditch and the railing of the central lawn ( Tonkin , Madagascar ?) to see the end of the race ? The little boy at the railing couldn ’ t see much then . It was from the cheers of the crowd in the stands that he knew the horses had just cleared the double barrier , cheers that turned into screams at the landing side of the last hurdle , shortly before the first ones appeared . Perhaps also the first jump of the water jump in front of the stands , this moving suspension with an uncertain outcome ? The first return of the horses , sweating and blowing , which then crossed the public between the track and the scales ? Or the exit from the racecourse to the shouts of the many Paris-Turf sellers and coach drivers : “ Porte Maillot-Place Clichy-Barbès !“, “ Opéra-République-Bastille !“ etc . The memory of a particular horse is less old . Karcimont , with his fine career that seemed eternal to me ... The modest Zécil , Pique Puce , Ventôse , probably remaining in my memory because they were grey , and children like greys . Or , distant but so vivid , the memory of Spirou , the first experience of tragedy , at the landing side of the medium open ditch ?

2

Among those who have been frequenting Auteuil for a few decades , there are probably few who will not spontaneously and enthusiastically come up with the name Katko to answer this question . A tall , lanky chestnut , Katko , son of Carmarthen , a stallion who left his mark on National Hunt breeding , and Kotkie , daughter of the tough Rheffic , never raced anywhere other than on a Butte Mortemart that he will have marked forever . Maurice Gillois and Ferdinand Dufaure Chases ( at 4 years old , of course ) then three Grand Steeplechases de Paris in a row ! Katko , on his many good days , raced alone . With his immense action , at his own pace , he gradually distanced his opponents and jumped the obstacles alone . Without being truly impressive , his domination was inexorable . But the most striking image he left me with is that of his jump over the rail-ditch and fence . I don ’ t remember a horse clearing Auteuil ’ s most formidable obstacle like he did . From take-off to landing , Katko seemed to have barely moved . The “ Juge de Paix “ reduced to the
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