The Truth
"Don’t bother about them, they’re only by Night Raid. Glad to sell him, he’s gone to New Zealand.” Paddy Wade talking about his Night Raid progeny to inaugural Hall of Fame jockey Bobby Lewis Barrier Miner 5 January 1934
If you ever wondered why swearing was invented, one only need look at Paddy Wade's horse owning career for the answer.
A bright morning sun filtered through branches of magnificent red river gums and she-oaks lining Tarcutta Creek. A screeching cacophony echoed around Borambola Park Stud* as flocks of red-headed Gang-gang and Glossy Black cockatoos came sweeping down from the surrounding trees. Two men, deep in conversation, slowly rode through lush paddocks of thoroughbreds towards a beautiful whitewashed homestead. Once home to John Donnelly's pastoral empire, this rich land, with frontage to the winding Murrumbidgee River, now belonged to New South Wales grazier A.P. "Paddy" Wade.** Looking to transform Borambola Park into one of Australia’s preeminent thoroughbred studs, Wade called on his riding companion, international bloodstock agent and racehorse importer, Andrew Robertson for assistance. Wade outlined his grand plan. “Andy, I want every owner in Australasia knocking down my door.” Andrew Robertson, some ten years the pastoralist’s senior, in turn always addressed his patrons formally. "That will require a serious investment into the best bloodlines." the bloodstock agent replied, adding, "But you know that already, Mr. Wade."
* 30 klms east of Wagga Wagga, New South Wales
** Abraham Patrick Wade
Paddy Wade, animated at the thought of building a world class stud, his ebullient mood quickly evaporated each time the subject of Night Raid came up. Despite only having a light season at stud, from the beginning, Wade displayed little patience for his English imported stallion as the farm's main sire. Wade did not wish to hear his bloodstock advisor waxing lyrical about the wonders of a Bend Or bloodline. Particularly the bloodline possessed by Night Raid. As far as A.P. Wade was concerned, this horse needed to be sold as quickly as humanly possible without resorting to a one-way trip to the glue factory. In 1924, this task fell to Andrew Robertson and more importantly, to replace Night Raid with a sire to advance Wade’s breeding aspirations of building a celebrated stud.* Despite his notable record as a leading bloodstock agent, Andrew Robertson suspected both these tasks might prove more difficult than a simple wave of a wand.
Racing historians view A.P. Wade as having pulled off two of the great blunders in horse owning and stud operating history. By coincidence, both fateful decisions connect to this story. Considering Night Raid a rank failure, he happily sold him far more cheaply than the exorbitant amount paid only two years earlier.* There is nothing unusual about his decision. Breeders do this all the time. If not satisfied with a sire or broodmare, or an owner receives an offer so lucrative they would be foolish not to accept, horses invariably change hands. In most instances these decisions prove correct. Occasionally, it goes the other way. Then there is Paddy Wade’s decision to sell Night Raid. Unfortunately for him, it turns out to be a colossal clunker. After Night Raid leaves Borambola Park in 1924, he goes on to inexplicably sire 1929 Cox Plate and Melbourne Cup winner, Nightmarch. This horse is one of the most underrated or, in this case, overshadowed, horses in the history of Australasian racing. Had Nightmarch raced in any other era, he would be viewed today as a racing legend. Yet Paddy Wade’s regret over his disposing of Night Raid only to see the emergence of Nightmarch paled to an afterthought the following season. There emerged an even greater superstar in Australian racing, also sired by his exiled Night Raid. Phar Lap.
Paddy Wade’s compounding remorse, bafflement, and downright annoyance grew every time Phar Lap glided effortlessly past the winning post. An extraordinary horse, so superior to all other racehorses of this era, and most other eras, as to defy nature. Put simply, Phar Lap haunted Paddy Wade for the remainder of his days. However, his selling of Night Raid was not the only snafu in Paddy Wade’s horse owning career. A couple of years later there appeared another monumental lapse in judgment, adding to his growing “Oh Shit!” moments of horse ownership. This came with a rash decision to sell a Kia-Ora Stud bred Magpie sired gelding, Amounis, to bookie Billy Pearson.
In August 1925, after scoring wins in his first two outings as a three-year-old, owner-trainer Joe Cook sold Amounis to Wade for £2,500 plus a percentage of any future wins. Part of this deal involved Cook continuing to train Amounis. Wade hoped to capture both the AJC and VRC Derbies with his new racehorse. Instead, Amounis ended up being trounced by the mercurial Manfred in both races.* Again, Wade’s impetuosity would prove to be his own worst enemy. He unwisely decided to offload Amounis at auction in April 1926 before sailing to England. While Paddy Wade blithely tally-hoed off thinking all was right in the world, to even the most casual racing observer, he may have been experiencing a psychotic episode. Champion horses do not grow on trees. For many, Amounis presented as close to a gold brick on legs one could ever dream of owning. In part caused by the incredulity surrounding Amounis even being offered, rumours started circulating about the horse's soundness. Unfazed by the hearsay, ex bookmaker Billy Pearson instructed his trainer Frank McGrath not to come away from the auction without him.
Amounis (Australian Racing Museum)
McGrath's bid of 1,800 guineas secured their prized horse. Compared with the average price of geldings at sale, Pearson paid higher than most. On the other hand, history will view 1,800 guineas a pittance compared with the astronomical return in store for the bookie. Amounis raced for the next six seasons, breaking an existing Australasian stake earning record long held by Gloaming.* In doing so, Amounis earned Pearson well over £40,000 in stakes alone.** Adding to this massive windfall, Pearson, McGrath and Sydney super punters, mother and son duo, Maude and Ernie Vandenberg could very well have made five times that in their well-publicised backing of Amounis. In 2006, the Australian Racing Hall of Fame inducted Amounis into their illustrious ranks while the memory of Wagga Wagga’s Paddy Wade continues disappearing into racing obscurity.
**Gloaming - £43100. Amounis’ earnings record - £48297 - was then smashed the following year by Phar Lap - £66738
Andrew Robertson held a commanding presence. Always immaculately attired, at six feet two, he towered over most in the racing world. Beyond his physical presence and movie star good looks, Robertson’s sobriquet, “The Wizard”, referred to his astonishing knowledge of international and Australasian bloodlines being second to none. When he expressed an opinion on a horse, bloodlines or breeding, even the most successful, or arrogant, owner and breeder took notice. He waited until Paddy Wade finished barking instructions at his station manager, Jack Honnery, as plates of bacon and eggs arrived at their solid oak table set up on the Borambola homestead’s wide verandah. Between slurps of coffee and demolishing his breakfast, Wade locked a steely gaze firmly on his bloodstock advisor, “Andy, I don't care about the cost. Just find me a sire in England worth having. That is all I want." He thought for a moment, adding, "And for Christ's sake, help me get that useless sire out of my sight.” Andrew Robertson returned an enigmatic smile and nodded, thinking, “Let’s see how this pans out?”
Son of a station owner, A.P. Wade made his considerable fortune wheeling and dealing multiple cattle and sheep stations around the Riverina.* In later years this immense pastoral empire would atrophy to the point of bankruptcy through a combination of droughts, the Depression, family tragedies, bad investments, bad decisions, bad second marriage and illness. On this day, sitting opposite Andrew Robertson, Paddy Wade was one of the most powerful graziers in Australia.
During his long career as a bloodstock agent, Robertson’s wealthy owners often opened an extra bank vault when deciding to purchase a “must have” horse. He enjoyed a long-held international reputation for honesty, frankness, and his total absence of sycophancy around aristocratic clients, nobility, members of the Raj, powerful industrialists and successful pastoralists like Paddy Wade.
Andrew Robertson waited until he gained his patron’s full attention. “Mr. Wade, to achieve this, there will be little remaining of £10,000.” In modern valuation, Robertson wanted him to commit upwards of three million dollars for a new sire. Wade sat back, tapping his fingers on the ivory damask tablecloth, knowing he had purchased some of his properties for less. Robertson knew this estimate to be more likely on the high side, but it gave him some room to negotiate. If, by chance, Wade’s wonder sire could be imported for less, quoting high and delivering a sire with some change left over always made patrons happy. Wade paused, before continuing to butter his toast, nodding, “If that’s what it takes. Trust you’ll find me something of real value, Andy?” Robertson smiled when Wade couldn’t suppress his natural instincts to caution him, “Goes without saying, I find myself with another Night Raid, I am not going to be too pleased.” Covering his mouth with a linen serviette, Andrew Robertson gave a small involuntary cough, thinking, “Good God! How many times have I heard this from a breeder?” Dipping a fork full of thick bacon into his runny fried eggs, he commented, “This is a lovely breakfast.” Half smiling, Wade grumped, “Bloody expensive one.”
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