Nijinsky's Triple Was A Lark

It wasn't a horse race—Nijinsky's St. Leger. It was a demonstration of sauntering nonchalance on the part of one horse and one jockey, who scoffed at the laboring efforts of the best that England and Ireland could produce for the final classic race of the English season. But it had a 30,000 crowd roaring approval over the last half furlong and thousands rushing to jam all approaches to the winners' enclosure, so that Owner Charles Engelhard of New Jersey found his way there with difficulty almost five minutes after Nijinsky had held court for an army of cameramen.

Making his eight rivals appear like so many grandfathers competing against a laughing Olympic gold medalist, Nijinsky became England's first Triple Crown winner since Bahrain in 1935, adding to his victories in the first two legs of this elusive prize—the Two Thousand Guineas at Newmarket and the Derby on Epsom's undulating course—with a win that brought his earnings to $572,915, just a few thousand short of Sea-Bird's alltime European record.

Yet that great old English joke, the weather, could so easily have robbed Nijinsky's admirers of what was probably their last chance to see him in action on an English course. The Canadian-bred colt had won 10 straight coming up to the St. Leger, and Vincent O'Brien, the masterly ex-trainer of jumping horses who now polishes flat-race champions, did not want to tarnish the record of a horse who had just been syndicated for stud duties for a world record of $5.4 million.

Nijinsky would definitely not run in the St. Leger, he said, if the Doncaster turf course (one mile and 6� furlongs) were saturated by rain. There was plenty of that about in the British Isles in the fortnight before the race and, had the track become heavy, O'Brien was prepared to withdraw the colt. Nijinsky's stamina might have been exposed to too severe a test after a preparation that had been handicapped by an outbreak of the equine disease of ringworm.

While an airplane waited in Ireland for a final decision, O'Brien kept Nijinsky entered in a lesser race 24 hours later than the St. Leger, at Longchamp, where the ground was reported perfect. But the rain that fell heavily in many parts of England skirted Doncaster, and 48 hours before the St. Leger Nijinsky was flown across the Irish Sea. He was stabled near Doncaster, the grim industrial town about 200 miles north of London, where racing has been taking place on the flat expanse of town moor for some 250 years.

St. Leger day started anything but well for Jockey Lester Piggott, who was bidding for his 17th win in an English classic with Nijinsky. By the time the main event came around, anyone who believed in winning and losing streaks would have run a mile rather than bet the 2-to-7 odds that the bookmakers offered on Engelhard's colt. In the first race the lean, pale-faced Piggott, who fights a continuous battle against weight, was beaten a short head. In the second Leander, one of five Engelhard runners during the day, decided 50 yards after the start that he had done enough, gave an enormous buck and landed his jockey on the turf at a speed of about 35 miles an hour. Somewhat shaken, Piggott walked to the weighing room through ironic clapping and ribald remarks. Leander was a heavily backed favorite and the fact that Piggott was shortly going to be astride probably the best horse in the world did not prevent a few of the locals from adding biting comment to his long stroll.

The biggest problem now was that Leander was still galloping loose on the town moor's expanse, wearing the saddle that Piggott regarded as lucky, certainly when attached to Nijinsky's broad back. While all the St. Leger runners paced the preliminary parade ring and the stewards, bowler-hatted and with red carnations in their buttonholes, looked anxiously at their watches, Nijinsky walked about saddleless for nearly 25 minutes until Leander was recaptured, the saddle retrieved and Lester Piggott weighed out by the clerk of the scales.

Nijinsky, who had sweated alarmingly before winning the Irish Sweeps Derby, and to a lesser extent before the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes at Ascot, took all this in stride. Apart from a little dampness on his shoulder, he looked calm and collected—and magnificent.

A standout in the paddock, he was a dropout when the race started, however. Piggott happily relinquished a good break from the gate to allow Nijinsky to lope along at the rear of the field as the unconsidered Whindamus cracked along in front at a good pace. From Doncaster's last bend to the winning post is a flat, unrelenting 4� furlongs. A furlong before the field turned into the straight, Piggott was still content to lie back in eighth place, with only Meadowville, who had been second to Nijinsky in the Irish Sweeps Derby, behind him and some 10 lengths separating him from the pace horse.

A furlong in the straight, Whindamus collapsed like a pricked balloon, and the American-bred Politico, owned by Mrs. Ogden Phipps, went on, chased by Charlton, carrying the colors of Queen Elizabeth. But suddenly and effortlessly there was Nijinsky breathing down the necks of the leaders, with Piggott coolly looking round at the other runners and assessing the situation. It looked good.