The Cheltenham Gold Cup will be celebrating its 100th anniversary in 2024. The Cheltenham Gold Cup, a crown jewel of British jump racing, boasts a rich history featuring legendary horses, big name jockeys, and memories etched in equestrian fireside folklore. Here’s the evolution of a race that defines excellence, compared with a decade-old memoir from Gavin, our Race Night Services founder.
The Cheltenham Gold Cup’s Century-Long Saga – 100 Years of Heart-Pounding Excitement:
Early 20th Century: Founded in 1924 racing through the wars until the 1940s. The National Hunt Chase and the Cheltenham Gold Cup are two separate races with distinct histories and characteristics. While there’s a connection between them, the Gold Cup didn’t directly replace the National Hunt Chase.
1924: The Cheltenham Gold Cup is born, replacing the National Hunt Chase as the Festival’s premier event. The inaugural winner, Spectre, claims victory on Cleeve Hill over three miles.
A Historical Timeline of The Boodles Cheltenham Gold Cup relocates in 1926: The race shifts to its present home, the New Course, with Carrolstown clinching the win.
1932-1936: The golden age of Golden Miller arrives. The legendary horse achieves an unprecedented five consecutive victories, a feat unmatched 100 years later in 2024.
The race is cancelled in 1943 and 1944 due to wartime.
Highlights of the Post-War Era (1950s – 1970s):
1953: Knock Hard becomes the first Irish-trained winner, marking a shift in international prominence.
1964-1966: Arkle emerges as a superstar, claiming three consecutive victories with breathtaking dominance. He remains the shortest-priced favorite in the race’s history at 1/10 odds.
1973: L’Escargot wins, becoming an iconic name.
1972: Piper Champagne becomes the first official sponsor of the race.
1973: L’Escargot repeats his 1970 victory, becoming the first horse to win the Gold Cup twice after Arkle.
1980’s to 2024
1980: The Tote (now Totesport) takes over sponsorship.
1983: Charter Party sets a new course record that stands to this day at 7 minutes 26.2 seconds.
1986: Dawn Run becomes the first mare to win the Gold Cup, shattering gender barriers in the sport.
Dawn Run, Cheltenham Gold Cup winner
1996: Imperial Call secures victory for Ireland under the legendary jockey Charlie Mann.
2002-2004: Best Mate claims a historic three-peat, etching his name amongst the race’s greatest champions.
2012-2015: Betfred becomes the sponsor.
2016-2018: Timico takes over sponsorship.
2019-2020: Magners sponsors the race, and Al Boum Photo achieves back-to-back victories.
2021: Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, the race is run behind closed doors and raises funds for WellChild.
2022: Boodles becomes the current sponsor, and A Plus Tard, ridden by history-making female jockey Rachael Blackmore, claims victory.
2023: The Boodles Cheltenham Gold Cup crowns a new champion, Don Cossack.
2024: (We will update this article accordingly)
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Gavin shares his memories of 2014 Australia to Gloucestershire
I feel weak-limbed and giddy, which is the way most people finish their three days in the Cotswolds.
The Gloucestershire taxi was driven by a charming chap, who tells me all about a revolutionary design of manhole-cover that he has patented.
He is hoping to find a wealthy investor. I told him he’d never have a better chance as the town will be crammed with people dedicated to pouring money down the drains during the race night.
Thirty-seven hours, 17 minutes, two taxis, two aeroplanes and three trains brought me from Melbourne, Australia, to a race night in Cheltenham, with only 30 minutes to spare before the first race of the 2014 Festival.
Prowling outside the race night venue were a hundred cockney and scouse touts, wanting either your money or your race night tickets. Once I managed to get past them unscathed, I was then bombarded by a second wave, the so-called gypsy ladies with their ‘lucky’ heather.
I made for the See You Then Bar above the parade ring and asked for a pint of bitter. The barman smiled, apologetically, and said ‘Bitter?’ in a strong Scandinavian accent. ‘Yes.’ ‘I am sorry.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know this word.’
We eventually got there, by sign language, and I gulped the pint down while I watched the first race on the big screen behind the parade ring.
Sitting on a bench nearby, an extremely elderly man with a feather in his trilby waved his aluminium walking stick in the air like a shillelagh. While I was strolling through the lawns of the Club Enclosure, I was struck by the hordes of plain-clothes security staff discernible by their clumsy green earpieces. It must have to do with The Queen’s visit later in the week, I thought to myself.
It was only in the afternoon that I twigged that the hundreds of MI5 operatives were actually race night enthusiasts, there for the same reason as me, enjoying another exciting race night.
I greedily backed an outsider in the Champion Hurdle, and am more indignant than I am entitled to be when it ran as the form book suggested it might, as if dragging an anvil behind it.
Tote System Failure – Technical Difficulties
Late in the afternoon, I tried to recoup some of my losses with an optimistic bet on the last race, only to find that the Tote system had collapsed.
Along with tens of thousands of other would-be punters, I battled towards the octopus-handed bookies on the rails, but there was no way through the throng. My horse lost anyway, so I saved money, but the frustration lingered. Overcrowding is always the bugbear of the Cheltenham Festival; the Totes technical incompetence only compounds it.
Jetlag Dodging and more Tote Crashing
The next morning, at breakfast, I aggravated my wisdom tooth eating a dodgy bacon butty. I am tempted to go back to my room and climb back under the covers.
Instead, I opt for the hardcore experience of the Courage Enclosure, the cut-price party zone on the far side of the track from the main grandstand.
It is mayhem: 20 minutes to get a drink, and another 15 minutes to put on a bet.
The Queen, resplendent in electric-blue tweed, presents the trophies, then strolls back through the parade ring, stopping to gossip with friends.
I decide to wander to a less hectic part of the race night venue.
There’s a burger bar, a Tote kiosk and a loo, and no queues at any of them! Just a few hundred people stand on a knoll with a fine view up the straight to the finish: it is like being at a point-to-point, smack in the middle of the biggest race night in the world.
Un-cramped and un-hustled, I relax enough to back two short-priced winners. Economically insignificant , but good for the psyche.
Feeling flush, I gatecrash a box at the top of the grandstand to watch the last two races in luxury.
The Tote system crashes again, and there are angry mutterings in the queues about the future of their monopoly. Everyone is convinced that they have been denied putting on winning bets, and naturally no one at the race night has been denied a loser.