By Serge Okey
A living legend in the world of horse racing, Jean-Pierre Dubois announced at the end of June that he is stepping away from racing at the age of 85. A month later, he confirms and explains this decision, which, according to him, concludes a gradual slowdown that began fifteen years ago. His long career, its highs and lows, his youth, his rise, his values, his loved ones, his memories, his dreams... In this in-depth interview, the “chef” opens up more than usual — with his signature mix of mischief and humility. “A man who knows himself well is necessarily modest,” said Lao She. Jean-Pierre Dubois knows himself very well.
Galorama. How are you feeling as this major turning point approaches?
Jean-Pierre Dubois. Fine, thank you. That’s life. Everything ends one day. I never made long-term plans. Now, it’s time to cross the finish line.
G. Retiring from work — something so deeply rooted in you...
J-P.D. Back then, we worked. At my age, it’s over. I’ve been lucky to have devoted people around me. Horses are my passion. I wasn’t capable of doing anything else. I got expelled from school because I had a lung issue. I wasn’t eating, weighed 30 kilos. At 13, I could barely write or count. A principal took me under her wing in night classes. But horses — they were my chance. I never really saw it as work.
G. Is it true that, as a child, you dreamed of being a flat jockey?
J-P.D. My father started with thoroughbreds, but he couldn’t afford the boarding costs anymore. We were left with 2 or 3 trotters, so we stuck with those. I’ve always loved flat racing.
G. How many horses have passed through your hands?
J-P.D. No idea. Some friends tried to count them, but I lost all the records when my house burned down. A shame — for selling, we could’ve made a nice poster of all the winners we sold (laughs).
G. So your number of wins will remain a mystery…
J-P.D. Yes: around 2,500, but mostly small races. I used to race on minor tracks when I was young, I didn’t have top horses. I was very lucky — especially with my health. Many of my friends are gone. It could happen to me tomorrow, who knows.
G. There’s a legend that you harnessed your first horse at age five…
J-P.D. No… Riding solo at 7 or 8, that’s already something. My first mare, I’d tie her to the fence to bridle her. And because she was gentle, she wouldn’t move. The roads weren’t paved, we could ride freely.
G. Can you spot a champion early on?
J-P.D. No. Varenne, we almost put him down because he had a crack in one leg and limped on the other. But once we hitched him, we saw he wasn’t like the others. I was lucky to have a guy with a good eye (Fabrice Simon). The horse stayed in a barn for six months. To think I used to say, “Damn, that donkey’s still here…”
G. You’ve had plenty of highs — and the lows?
J-P.D. Often, if someone had wanted to buy my truck after a race, I’d have sold it cheap. You’ve got to believe. I kept my head down and had good friends who gave me a hand.
G. Do you remember the day you told your parents: “I’m leaving”?
J-P.D. I was 17, had a bad temper — maybe I still do. My dad said, “It’s better if you go find your own way.” But he was a great father because he gave me a shot. He accepted that I lost races. I took the train to Marseille, where friends gave me work. One day, the president of the racing club there said, “I’m selling everything — like any horse?” I found someone to buy one, and he gave me half. That’s how it all began.
G. You know the little world, the big world…
J-P.D. Yes, mostly the little one (laughs).
G. Is there a place where you feel more at home than anywhere else?
J-P.D. Anywhere with horses and racing. Without horses, I don’t know what I’d have done. Maybe raised cattle or pigs.
G. No other passions besides horses?
J-P.D. No, it takes up so much time, I didn’t need anything else. I’m stopping now because I don’t have the energy anymore. I’ve been slowing down for fifteen years.
G. Is winning in your blood?
J-P.D. In this business, always being behind — it can’t last.
G. First race at 13, best apprentice at 16 — you started fast…
J-P.D. I arrived in Vincennes at 14. We had found a little underdog. A man used to break in all the wild horses in the area by tying them to his cart with a chain around the neck. One day, he prepared Faon Kairos for me. All winter, I rode him — even jumped logs in the woods. It did the horse good. He raced every week or five days. One day, I rode him poorly, and my father gave him to the top jockey then, Raoul Simonard. The horse stopped in the woods and came home on foot (laughs).
G. Why did you move to Échauffour?
J-P.D. My parents had an 8-hectare farm in Brittany. With my grandfather, they couldn’t make a living anymore. They found the worst farm in the area. It was so wet, we’d lose our boots in the fences. I was 4 or 5. It was the end of the war.
G. Later, you became quite the globetrotter.
J-P.D. I liked seeing what was going on elsewhere, understanding top stallions everywhere. I would’ve stayed in Canada if they hadn’t stopped racing in Quebec. I have great friends there. My son knows Australia better. In Italy, I was happy — surrounded by friends. I found simplicity there.
G. In the U.S., did you really go with an empty suitcase?
J-P.D. The first time, I worked 15 days for Stanley Dancer. A friend told me he always needed help. He was the top trainer then, a real workhorse. No one’s done it better. Their horses were faster, more precocious than ours back then. Now, we’re about equal. When we took three mares there, the system here was tough: you had to pay for the stud fee without knowing if you’d get a foal. There, you paid once the foal was born. I tried to use stallions that suited our breed. It worked.
G. How do you calculate that?
J-P.D. The conformation, first. We had big mares, so we needed small, fast, early-developing horses.
G. You have a reputation as a risk-taker…
J-P.D. I lost sleep sometimes, but I was never really scared.
G. Are you religious?
J-P.D. Very. I thank heaven every day for my family, my health. I knock on wood. There’s definitely something out there. I’m interested in all religions. What hurts me most is seeing people suffering in the streets.
G. What encounters marked your career?
J-P.D. So many! Hard to name just a few. In flat racing, I met Alec Head — sadly too late. A great horseman who loved trotting horses. So many others.
G. And your close friend Pierre-Désiré Allaire?
J-P.D. Our houses were side-by-side. Before Normandy, I’d hang around his yard. He was a genius. An incredible expert. A top horse dealer. We couldn’t hold a candle to him. I admire his son Philippe too.
G. How did you choose your racing silks?
J-P.D. I took my grandmother’s colors. She liked De Gaulle, so I added the Cross of Lorraine (laughs).
G. Did you always keep an eye on flat racing?
J-P.D. Yes, I always had a few gallopers — small horses. Jean-Philippe rode at Longchamp, won at Auteuil. When he was young, we’d go to Deauville on the last day and buy a cheap horse or two. One time, I bought one from Jean Gabin. As I was leaving, he laughed and said: “You gonna hitch that one up or what?” But we won with her! A good mare called Switch Line.
G. When you entered flat racing, what was your goal?
J-P.D. You had to be crazy. Normally, we had no chance. If there was a Wertheimer horse in the race, we usually finished second. But we were happy to be beaten (laughs).
G. Was Mr. Wildenstein a key figure?
J-P.D. Oh yes. He bought in, and we organized things after. He had tried harness racing three times with no success. I said: “We can try again, but maybe you’re just unlucky.” He didn’t like that (laughs). But it worked right away. You had to explain things clearly — he wasn’t one to joke. It was incredible: he almost knew what you were going to say before you said it. He had never won the Grand Steeple. I joked: “That’s because we never had the horses together.” He laughed and at the end of the meal said, “Let’s try — sometimes fools get lucky” (laughs). We bought ten horses from Montesson. One of them was Kotkijet.
G. Tell us about his Grand Steeplechase de Paris win.
J-P.D. I was nervous — Mr. Wildenstein was superstitious. If he lost, he didn’t want the same person near him again. I watched the race from across Auteuil, in my car. When Kotkijet won, I rushed over to congratulate him.
G. Which stallions and mares will you remember?
J-P.D. The first broodmares — the ones who allowed me to reinvest and keep going.
G. Do unkind words bother you?
J-P.D. No. I don’t care. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion.
G. The doping accusations?
J-P.D. That did upset me… especially since in the end, there was nothing. It got serious: a plane was sent to Geneva the same day to re-test in a human lab, where there are no errors. And there was nothing. I always tried to give the best care.
G. What’s your view on declining betting turnover?
J-P.D. The PMU needs people who really understand betting — serious players.
G. The Dubois family: quite a saga?
J-P.D. I’m lucky they’re passionate — but they didn’t have much choice. They had to help. They all started working young. They’re good guys, brave, passionate. It’s not a clan, but we all support each other. It’s our life.
G. Your first Prix d’Amérique with High Echelon in 1979 — unforgettable?
J-P.D. Oh yes. The story is, my dad was in Argentina at the time. At the airport, he meets a French speaker who says, “You should buy a trotter — go see my son.” It was the Count of Senneville, a great composer who worked with Polnareff, etc. His first purchase didn’t work out. He said: “I’ve succeeded in everything in life — so I must buy another.” The next one was High Echelon.
G. Is the mare essential in producing a good horse?
J-P.D. The stallion matters too. If you breed a mare to several stallions and suddenly she produces a good one, it tells you something. And the people doing the work around the horse matter a lot. It takes very little to miss a good one.
G. Are you a bon vivant?
J-P.D. Yes, I love good times with friends. Laughing is healthy.
G. What’s next?
J-P.D. I might travel. I love South America. I want to see flat races there, how they breed in Chile.
G. Still horses — do you ever do anything else?
J-P.D. I tried a vacation once, stayed two days. My wife went mad. Swimming all day — enough already. But I do love the sun and the sea. A friend wants to take me on a cruise. If he invites me again next year, I’ll go.
G. Jean-Pierre Dubois — a tribute to simplicity?
J-P.D. It comes from my childhood. At one point, my mother didn’t have enough money for groceries. That leaves a mark. When we came to Vincennes with my father, we finished first and second. So we wanted to stay. But all the boxes were full — except one that leaked. We put tarps up and slept in the tack room all winter. But we were happy. We’d win a race and my mother could go shopping. The day I got an old house, I was thrilled. Sleeping in your own bed — that’s something incredible.
G. Did you miss out a lot as a child?
J-P.D. We had no electricity. We fetched water from the well. We had the ugliest truck, but my father said: “Only one thing matters — what’s inside.”
G. A strict upbringing, but lots of respect for your parents…
J-P.D. They deserve huge credit. They believed. My father was a force of nature. Could work day and night. He died young. I was lucky to have amazing parents — and to inherit their health. My mother died at 96.
G. If you could do it all again?
J-P.D. People aren’t happier being born with money. It’s not the same emotions, the same joy. If I had to choose, I’d live the same life all over again. I had a great time.