Picaroon comes close
HISTORY was made at the July Handicap earlier this year when S'manga Khumalo was the first black jockey ever to win the prestige race. Yet it nearly happened very much earlier, in 1904, when a Zulu jockey named Picaroon came in second on a rank outsider.
In his very entertaining history of Durban, Schooners and Skyscrapers (Howard Timmins, 1963), author Eric Rosenthal – for many years one of the Three Wise Men on the popular radio quiz, Test the Team – tells us about it.
"One of the most dramatic runs occurred in 1904 when Dundonald, ridden by a Zulu jockey, Picaroon, came in, a complete outsider, at 33 to one. Although the stake at that time was still only £1 500, the owner of Nymagee (the winner) was said to have won £33 000 and to have passed on to his jockey, Billy Clements, a small fortune."
This is interesting. Who realised black jockeys were already racing at Greyville back in 1904? Billy Clements, Picaroon … the integrated society we aspire to today in at least some respects already existed in those far-off days. It's taken a very long time to get back to it.
At 33 to one even a place must have paid handsomely. I hope Picaroon had a few bob on himself.
Yankee Wood
YES, A LOT happened in the early days that would have been impossible later under apartheid. The horseracing connection recalls the story of Yankee Wood, who became a racehorse owner and hobnobbed with the Transvaal randlords around the turn of the 19th century.
Wood was a black American sailor who jumped ship at East London and set off for the hinterland seeking his fortune. He met up with Adam Kok, the Griqua Kaptein, who was on his way back from the Cape, where he had negotiated with the British governor for the territory of East Griqualand – also called Nomansland – to be annexed.
One of the conditions of annexation was that the Governor's proclamations should be gazetted in East Griqualand. Wood happened to be a trained printer. He founded the Kokstad Advertiser and East Griqualand Gazette, which publishes to this day.
He prospered, also building the Royal Hotel in Kokstad. Then he moved to the Witwatersrand where he prospered even more, rubbing shoulders with the randlords and becoming part of the horseracing set.
Then – alas – he moved to the Kimberley diamond fields, where he lost absolutely everything. Legend has it that he ended up back in Kokstad as doorman of the Royal Hotel, which he had once owned.
Sad. But also a fascinating glimpse of what was possible in an era where a man was judged on his get-up-and-go and nothing else.
Colloquium
ACADEMIC exchanges are to be encouraged. They are most fruitful and can be cross-cultural as much as scientific and technical. Only last week I was at a colloquium where I encountered again my old chum Professeur Razak Latifi, of Universite de Lorraine, in France, who was back in Durban on an exchange.
And as we chatted I marvelled again at the melodic beauty and descriptiveness of the French language. As he caught an eyeful of female cleavage (the colloquium was in the Street Shelter for the Over-Forties, not on campus), le professeur exclaimed: "Oo-la-la! Sourire jusque'aux poumons! Tres bien!" (Which means, roughly: "Wow! Smiling all the way to the lungs! Very nice!")
So elegant. And what is more enchanting than a French girl's smile? Vive la Folies Bergere!
Pensee
WHEN you think about how huge the earth is and how it's just a fraction of the size of the sun and the sun is like a speck of dust in the entire universe … it's easy to rationalise eating an entire cake.
Test needed
OVERHEARD in the Street Shelter for the Over-Forties: "He doesn't look anything like the long-haired, trim, switched-on kid I married 25 years ago. I want a DNA test to make sure it's still him."
Tailpiece
BONO goes into a cake shop and places an order.
Confectioner: "What do you want on top?"
Bono: "Icing."
Confectioner: "Yes, I know you sing. I make cakes. Now what do you want on top?"
Last word
The English have no respect for their language, and will not teach their children to speak it.
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