When famous folk die you sometimes fish for memories of any encounter you may have had with them. The memorial service for Nigel Lawson spurred no memory-searching for me. I will never forget meeting him at around 4 a.m. on the pavement outside The Grand in Brighton on 12 October 1984, surrounded by blue police tape and with emergency service sirens blaring following the IRA’s attempt to blow up Margaret Thatcher’s cabinet at that year’s Conservative party conference. He was in pyjamas and a blue, braided dressing-gown; I was still in my suit having fortunately walked out of The Grand about half an hour before the bomb went off. I had arranged lunch later that day with Lawson and my then editor, Sir David English, who had already opted out – and I naturally assumed that the chancellor, too, would wish to cancel. ‘Certainly not, we’ll carry on,’ he countered. We not only met, but he chomped his way through four courses, including cheese, with a political journalist who would normally have traded eye teeth for 90 minutes with the chancellor but who, that day, was itching to get away to slightly more urgent reporting. The bombing makes just one paragraph in his 1,000-page memoir, The View from No. 11. Lawson was one of the last Big Beasts of British politics – they just don’t make them like that any more. 

Plying my journalistic trade these days in the racing world, what I love about this time of year is the return of the actual big beasts. Partly it is the long-striding big-rumped mature animals themselves with their knowing eyes, strolling unperturbed around the parade ring with three miles and a couple of dozen jumps to clear before they get home to supper. You’ve seen them before in previous seasons: you know some of their little ways. You know too that their successes will depend as much on character and courage as on the sheer speed of their Flat cousins. But the appeal comes, too, from talking to the leading trainers whose strings swing into action at this time of year after lesser lights have mopped up summer jumping’s smaller prizes. The likes of Paul Nicholls and Nicky Henderson seem to have more time to ruminate post-race about what might have been, or what is to come, than some of the nervier Flat handlers with yards full of expensively bought animals that they are expected to turn into financially rewarding breeding prospects. If there is a trigger point it is surely Cheltenham’s late October Showcase meeting – and it didn’t disappoint.

After Blueking d’Oroux had won the Masterson Holdings Hurdle at a surprisingly generous 5-2, Paul Nicholls was insistent there was a good race in him, but there will be no rush to jump fences. Winning a novice chase too early in a horse’s career isn’t necessarily wise, he suggested. A lot of young horses need time: ‘When they’re novices and you win one early you can then be struggling with a penalty.’ In pursuit of his 15th Champion Trainer’s title, he has made a slower start this year, saying that with so many young horses he simply isn’t in a hurry. Even the top trainers, though, can be surprised by their charges. After Hyland had won the Pertemps Network Handicap Hurdle on the good to soft ground, so qualifying for the Pertemps final at the Cheltenham Festival, Nicky Henderson declared: ‘I’m amazed. I thought this was just a top of the ground horse and that that was all he would ever be. That was way out of the water.’ Plans were changed on the spot. ‘We were going to go jumping but he will definitely be turning up at the Pertemps final in March.’ Hyland is owned by the Ten From Seven syndicate organised by David Sumpster. Good luck to them because that was Mr Sumpster’s first victory at Cheltenham in 40 years of trying.

A trainer’s job isn’t just about placing and race planning; it often requires thinking on the spot. Many jockeys had been spurning the rail looking for better ground on the outside but, having gone all round the outside in a previous race with Quick Draw, a horse who needs to see daylight, Henderson said to jockey Nico de Boinville: ‘There seems to be a lot more daylight on the inside. It may be chewed up but why not go down that way.’ He did, and the plan worked to perfection. Another neat ride was that by Sean Bowen in the novices’ hurdle. Encouraged by owner Max McNeill’s belief in his stamina, he led virtually all the way on the Olly Murphy-trained Butch who was passed after the last obstacle. Bowen told me approvingly: ‘He did get past me but we came back. Not many do that.’ Two significant victories on the day, though, went to the ever-courteous Henry de Bromhead, making it five out of 14 for Irish trainers over the two days. The Irish took 18 of 28 races at the last Cheltenham Festival – and nothing has changed.