MAIDEN VOYAGE

MAIDEN VOYAGE... The story of Guy Packer from the Racing Post October 2007.

Byline: David Ashforth meets Guy Hart, whose finest hour in the saddle was his first win - in the 1945 Cambridgeshire.

Hitler had shot himself, and thousands of soldiers returning from the war were determined to enjoy themselves, some of them on Cambridgeshire day at Newmarket's Rowley Mile course. The soldiers had more money to spend than Guy Packer, a 15-year-old apprentice who had never ridden a winner in his life and was earning two shillings and four pence a week working for Bob Colling.  He had reached Colling's yard by bicycle which, as a schoolboy, he mounted early every Saturday and Sunday morning in Cambridge in order to ride out on Newmarket Heath. The son of a bookmaker, Packer was soon working full-time for Colling, but was apprenticed to his son, Jack, because Colling snr was a bankrupt. So, very nearly, was Packer.

Today, in his Berkshire bungalow, Packer, now 77, and renamed Guy Hart, produces a small apprenticeship certificate, dated August 18, 1944, marking the start of a riding career remembered largely by himself. "I had two rides in 1944, both for Major Holliday and a few early in 1945," Hart recalls. "Then I got beaten a short head on one of Holliday's horses, after giving the horse a couple of slaps with the whip. Major Holliday told me that he wouldn't have his horses hit and that I wouldn't be riding for him again. I was in good company, because he sacked Gordon Richards and Michael Beary for the same thing, and sacked most of his trainers, too."

It wasn't a promising start to the 1945 season, which threatened to end with both Packer and Esquire, his mount in the Cambridgeshire, still maidens. "Bob Colling trained Esquire and I rode the horse at home," says Hart, a lively, compact figure, who still swims every day, partly to ease a back injury sustained in a fall. "Esquire had been bought for export to Brazil, but couldn't be exported until he had won a race." By the time the Cambridgeshire arrived, on October 31, Esquire had tried and failed a dozen times, although in his previous race he was the 3-1 favourite, and several professional punters had already backed him for the Cambridgeshire. "It was very different in those days," says Hart. "Now there is a good betting handicap every Saturday, but there wasn't then. The Cambridgeshire was one of a handful of big betting races and, after the war, there was a lot of money about."

On his son's advice, Packer snr had backed Esquire and when he was beaten on October 16, finishing tenth, Guy told him not to worry. Esquire still had a good chance in the big race. "The jockey gave him a terrible ride that day," says Hart, "but, as a result, Esquire drifted in the betting for the Cambridgeshire and eventually went off at 40-1." Built into the price was the jockey, a winnerless 7lb claimer, weighing less than six stone, and riding at 6st 3lb. "If the horse had won his previous race, he'd have carried a penalty, and a heavier jockey would probably have got the ride," says Hart. "I told my father that Esquire would win, and got him to put pounds 40 each-way on for me, which was a huge bet then, especially for a 15-year-old. Of course, we weren't supposed to bet, but all the jockeys did, and I'd been brought up in a betting family."

Packer's confidence was increased by the soft ground. "That was what Esquire wanted," he says. "I was drawn next to Gordon Richards. He said to me, 'I know your stable fancies your horse. Don't chase me, because mine won't get home. When I get to the bushes, I'll look round and, if you're there, kick on'." Packer did, and won by half a length. "Richards was the first to congratulate me," he says. "He was a lovely man." Packer's view of the trainer was less flattering. "Colling told me that I'd taken a long time to pull up and get back, but the owners sent me pounds 300 as a present, and Esquire went off to Brazil." It wasn't the start of something bigger, except Packer's waistline. He put on weight and, when his five-year apprenticeship was over, he approached Jack Colling for his indentures, and his share of riding fees. "Bob was sitting there," he says, "and Jack said, 'I've taught you a trade in life, you can get a job anywhere in the world. There's your indentures', but no money. I didn't get anything. I walked to the cafe across the road and cried."

Pathe News film clip with sound of Esquire

winning the 1945 Cambridgeshire

Three years later, in 1952, still broke, Packer went to Lingfield on the day of the Derby Trial. "I went into the weighing room and saw Charlie Smirke, who used to ride for Colling sometimes, and who I got on well with. He told me to back his mount, Tulyar, that afternoon, and to beg, borrow and steal to back him for the Derby. "That's what I did. I put credit bets on with a Cambridge bookmaker who thought I was putting them on for university undergraduates, and backed Tulyar to win pounds 4,000. It was spunky, because there was no

way I could have paid if he'd lost. I was skint." Fortunately, Tulyar didn't lose, and Packer subsequently joined forces with Sheila Hart, and enjoyed a lively life in London. They bought several properties, drove a green and beige jaguar, and became lucratively involved with greyhounds, playing on the edge. Packer changed his name by deed poll to Hart, turned to the antique business  and, in 1960, married Sheila. The marriage eventually ended, but the gambling carried on, one way and another.

Guy and Speck sold for £1.15ml

Lucian Freud, one of Britain's most highly regarded artists, was also a gambler and, through gambling, met Hart. "He loved gambling," says Hart. "He'd have pounds 200 doubles and trebles, and loved to back Jeremy Tree's horses, which was a good way to go skint. I used to put the bets on for him with Michael Tabor when Tabor was a bookmaker. "When I first got to know Freud, he told me that he'd paint me one day, but not until I was older. About ten years later, he suddenly said, 'I'm ready to paint you now'. It took him five weeks to paint one hand, and 18 months to finish it. He was unbelievably slow." Freud painted Hart several times; unfortunately, the sitter isn't also the owner of the paintings, which came to be worth a lot more than Esquire's win in the 1945 Cambridgeshire. 'It took Lucian Freud five weeks to paint one of my hands, 18 months to finish. He was incredibly slow'