Peter O’Sullevan

His is the voice that everyone over the age of 40 probably knows.  The dry, urbane tone, the controlled and precise diction, which never wavered, even as the events he was describing reached a fever pitch.  Back in the days when the nation stopped for horse races like the Derby and the Grand National, Peter O’Sullevan was the ‘voice of racing’, calling home legendary winners like Red Rum, Nijinsky and Aldaniti.

Born in Ireland on March 3^rd 1918, Peter grew up in Reigate, Surrey, raised by his grandparents.  Horses were an early and consuming passion and at the age of 7 he rode his pony on the hallowed turf at Epsom.  This adventure was enabled and overseen by one of his grandmother’s employees and its legitimacy was called into question by racecourse workers as it reached its conclusion.  Peter’s chaperone led him away with the instruction not to look back, like a ‘good soldier’.  The Epsom escapade probably helped to embed Peter’s love of horses and racing, while also giving him a good introduction to the ways of the Turf with its mix of upright and questionable characters, its contrasts between skill, courage and athleticism (equine and human) and opportunism and occasional chicanery.

Peter was educated at Charterhouse, although he nearly didn’t pass the entrance exam.  Surprisingly, in light of his subsequent mastery of odds and betting variations, it was maths that threatened to hold him back.  His prowess at football and cricket helped him over the hurdle instead.

Later, as World War 2 approached, his efforts to enlist were stymied on medical grounds, but, just as he had found a way to ride the Derby track, he found an alternative way to serve.  His first idea was arguably more dangerous than infantry duty: he offered to courier banned documents into Nazi Germany.  Fortunately for generations of racing fans, the borders were closed before he could take on that challenge.

Instead his war service was spent in the Chelsea Civil Defence Reserve, where the roll-call of participants mirrored the range of people found at racetracks:  among his colleagues were a greengrocer, a spiv, a mechanic and a professional thief.  The work brought Peter face to face with the grim realities of war.  Details of his experiences stuck in his mind, such as retrieving the body of a woman from a wrecked house and noticing that she hadn’t had time to varnish one of her fingernails before the bomb hit.

Racing (horses and greyhounds) provided relief from the war.  As early as 1940 he owned his first racehorse and registered his own racing colours which would go on over the next four decades to be carried by horses that were champions, also-rans and no-hopers – all equally appreciated by their wise and compassionate owner.

Having initially got his journalistic break by filling in for a friend on the Reading Gazette, Peter joined the Press Association as its racing correspondent after the war, establishing enough of a reputation to be enticed to the Daily Express in 1950, when it had a daily circulation of over 4 million.  Those lucky readers were to benefit from Peter’s thorough knowledge and eye for a horse as he established himself as one of the greatest tipsters in the country.  With so many following his advice and ‘naps’ (best bet of the day), one leading bookmaker was moved to write to him asking (half-jokingly?), “What are you trying to do – put us out of business?”

Bookmakers, of course, were not the only professionals that he interacted with.  There were owners, such as the wealthy woman who confided to him that she had married “once for money, once for position and once for love”; and jockeys, with whom he developed lasting friendships.  Not least of these was Lester Piggott, regarded as the best of his (or any) era.  Wryly reflecting on Piggott’s career, which included a prison sentence for tax evasion, Peter noted the jockey’s high regard for money – “with which he fortified the Exchequer below the level of requirement”.  As a follower of and participant in the world of horse racing, Peter certainly needed a sense of humour: when one of his horses turned out to be rather slow, he sadly observed that it seemed to be put off by the way other horses took racing so seriously.

With his command of language and air of authority, it was no surprise that the BBC (the only broadcaster in the country until the mid-50s) engaged his services as a race commentator.  The corporation had initially been rather wary of horse-racing, to the extent that it would not broadcast the odds on the horses, but with Peter they had backed a winner.  It was no easy job, broadcasting from the various racecourses round the country before the days of proper commentary boxes and reliable monitors.  Peter often found himself perched on an exposed piece of scaffolding, praying that the rain would not short-circuit the electrical equipment around him.  With typical initiative, he bought himself his own sturdy binoculars so that he could see the races well enough to keep radio listeners and TV viewers informed.

Just as Dan Maskell became associated with tennis, and Peter Alliss with golf, so did Peter become the nation’s racing commentator.  Over the years he witnessed and described the triumphs at home and also abroad of a parade of brilliant horses such as Arkle, Sea Bird and Dawn Run.  He even delivered Britain’s first satellite commentary of a race from France/USA.

To some readers, in an age where awareness of animal rights is much higher than even 20 years ago, horse-racing is a cruel sport.  Peter himself would fervently disagree, but he was aware of key issues that affected the welfare of the horses and led a determined and successful campaign to have the use of whips seriously curtailed.  After his retirement from commentating in 1997, he devoted much of his time to animal welfare charities and today a charitable trust bears his name and continues his work.

For over 50 years, Peter O’Sullevan was indeed ‘the voice of racing’; times and tastes change, but there are fine examples of his commentary on YouTube and if you have never had the pleasure of listening to him, this writer envies you for the enjoyment you will experience for the first time when you do.