WHEN a young Kim Bailey went to the Doncaster Sales in 1986, he refused even to look at the chestnut point-to-point winner Mr Frisk, of whom the form book wrote ‘should improve in time’.

“He was by a horse called Bivouac and they’re all nuts,” Kim said baldly. His then wife Tracey, herself a competent horsewoman, liked the horse and when he came into the ring kept nudging Kim until eventually he bid for, and bought him, for 15,500 guineas. Within days, people were ringing up to say, ‘Whatever else, get rid of the horse.’

‘Friskers’ was nuts alright. So highly strung, he would start dripping with sweat at the very sight of a saddle, and to ride him was virtually impossible. His breeder and former owner, Ralph Dalton, a farmer from Cleveland, assured Kim that the horse would go on fast ground and so he sold him to American Mrs Lois Duffey because her annual visits to England were in early autumn when the ground was usually firm.

But the training went from bad to worse, and when galloped with two moderate horses he finished 150 yards behind.

Mrs Duffey, in her late seventies, flew over from Maryland as planned and travelled to Devon and Exeter to watch Mr Frisk’s first race, in September 1986. A rather bashful Kim told her apologetically that he was afraid he had wasted her money. He suggested to the jockey, Alan Jones, that he should jump him off in front for he knew, at least, that Mr Frisk was a good jumper. Then he settled back nervously to watch with Mrs Duffey, confident only that the horse wouldn’t run very well.

Now a renowned journalist and author, Marcus Armytage (right) was in the saddle when Mr Frisk landed the 1990 Aintree Grand National

What followed left him dumbfounded; the bright chestnut not only set off in front as planned but stayed there throughout the three miles to win, hard held, by fifteen lengths. “I was genuinely shell-shocked,” Kim recalled.

Their problems were not yet overcome, although the sore back that Mr Frisk acquired in that race eventually turned out to be a blessing in disguise, but not at first. Wanting to run him again quite soon at Carlisle while Mrs Duffey was still in the country, but unable to put a saddle on him, Kim sent him swimming for exercise – or rather he tried to. Only one attempt was made, when ‘Friskers’ tried to ‘walk on the bottom’ and drowning looked imminent.

Instead, with the back still too sore to take a saddle, Tracey tried leading him off her former advanced eventer and team chase horse, Barnaby. Off they went down the drive and along the roads with Mr Frisk bucking and kicking all the way. But for once he was not sweating, and so the venture continued. Tracey was always afraid her charge would get loose, especially when they started cantering on the stubble, and the situation was not helped by Barnaby pulling like a train.

“My heart was in my mouth, and we went for weeks like that,” she said, while Kim watched them work, laughing at the unusual sight. At least the horse was not dripping buckets of sweat.

When Carlisle came round, Mr Frisk actually tried to lie down in the saddling box and it took two handlers to lead him round the paddock – but he won easily by seven lengths, having put in a particularly flamboyant leap at the first fence.

He was still a bad traveller and so they tried stabling Annabelle the goat with him, a ploy that can work with a highly-strung horse. Mr Frisk was not bothered one way or the other and when the goat began eating, first his food and then Tracey’s garden plants, the idea was abandoned.

The unorthodox training continued, although by this time Tracey would occasionally tie Barnaby to a tree, leap on Mr Frisk’s back to give him a gallop, then lead him back; this way he gradually accepted being ridden again and, eventually with extra age and experience, he was ridden out with the string on daily exercise. But that first season he felt the saddle literally only on race days, and from nine runs he won seven races. Already the couple were thinking of him as a future Grand National horse, but his owner, Mrs Duffey, would not contemplate the notion.

Mr Frisk and Marcus Armytage jump to victory in the 1990 Grand National at Aintree \ Healy Racing

Lois Duffey, brought up in New York, became embroiled in hunting and racing. Her father, Walter Salmon, not only bred and raced three Preakness Stakes winners but also bred Discovery whose daughter Geisha produced Native Dancer, whose grandson was Northern Dancer, and he produced the likes of Sadler’s Wells.

Northern Dancer was a Canadian horse who was far and away the best thoroughbred to come out of that country. Northern Dancer was so small, barely 14.3 hh., that he didn’t fetch his $25,000 reserve as a yearling, but he quickly proved that lack of size was no barrier to success, winning seven of his nine starts as a two-year-old , with a career total of fourteen wins from eighteen starts.

As a stallion, by which time he had grown to 15.1¾ hh., Northern Dancer proved every bit as successful as on the racecourse. He sired the great Nijinsky and other Derby winners such as Secreto and The Minstrel, as well as Irish Derby winners El Gran Senor and Shareef Dancer. His influence as a stallion is still strongly felt in classic races throughout the world. A number of his sons became great sires, especially Sadler’s Wells. Tiger Roll has Sadler’s Wells on both paternal and maternal sides of his pedigree.

Lois Duffey married steeplechase rider Harry Duffey, and in 1946 the couple took up farming in Maryland. In 1968, on a visit to Ireland, they were persuaded to go into steeplechasing as owners. A few years later they moved their ‘entire operation’ (one horse) to England. In time, Mrs Duffey kept three in England, initially with Tim Forster, and three in Maryland with Charlie Fenwick.

The press latched on to Mr Frisk prior to the 1989 Grand National, for which Mrs Duffey allowed her horse to be entered but stipulated that she would not actually let him run. The ground became heavy and he was duly withdrawn.

The following season produced a perfect preparation but there was still the question of obtaining Mrs Duffey’s permission. Kim told the story: “On the day entries closed Mrs Duffey was in Mexico, but I had her number and rang it; I only let the telephone ring once before putting it down, then I made the entry. We agreed we would pay he back the entry fee if she was still adamant.”

Next he had to pluck up the courage to admit what he had done, and wrote Mrs Duffey an obsequious letter, dated 22 January 1990:

Dear Lois,

I tried to ring you without success as I would have liked to have asked you if I could enter Mr Frisk in the National.

As I couldn’t get hold of you I took the liberty of entering him. I know you will most probably be livid with me for doing so, but I really would like to run the horse as you already know. I feel that he has matured mentally and physi-cally enough now to take the challenge and also, as they have already made numerous changes to the course since last year, the race has become much less dangerous than it used to be.

Becher’s Brook, as you know, has been filled in which really takes away from a lot of people’s point of view the glamour of the race

I know we are going to have our annual battle but if the ground was good I would more than anything else like to run him. If you haven’t already ripped up this letter by now, Tracey and I would love you to come and stay on 7 April.

The alterations he spoke of had come about following a vigorous press and public opinion campaign the previous year when two horses had been killed, one of them breaking its back when it slipped back into the ditch made infamous by Captain Becher all those years ago. Indeed, the modifications could be deemed to have come about after more than 150 years of campaigning.

It was not until after the National weights had come out (for which Mr Frisk had been allotted a reasonable 10 stone 6 pounds) that Kim heard back from Mrs Duffey. The phone rang about 10pm. “I’ve got your letter,” she told him, and continued to make small talk for what seemed an eternity, “and I’ve spoken to Charlie [Fenwick]; I’m not getting any younger, and you’ll never have such a chance again, and I know that if you weren’t happy you wouldn’t run him – so let’s go for it.”

Although Tracey was expecting their second child in June, she continued to exercise Mr Frisk (now with a saddle) until two days before the National when she entrusted him to the sympathetic hands of stable girl Rachel Liron, who was also a major influence in calming him down.

As race day approached and the tension mounted, with Kim and Tracey aware that ‘Friskers’ had never been better in his life, Mrs Duffey said she would not be coming over. She felt the strain would be too great, especially as she was still recovering from a broken ankle. The Baileys were already in Liverpool when they heard the Aintree executive had persuaded her to come and booked her into the prestigious Adelphi Hotel.

Dinner, not surprisingly, was a stilted affair between the three of them, with Kim and Tracey both thrilled and terrified at the same time. They pledged not to talk about tomorrow’s race but their strained conversation kept coming round to it.

The question of jockey had been sorted out some time in advance. While Dunwoody would have been Kim’s first choice (and had ridden the horse three times), Richard had something like six regular rides entered before he could consider Mr Frisk, so Kim engaged Marcus Armytage, who had already ridden him six times, notching three wins. But even that was a strain, for no matter how good Marcus was, he was still an amateur and the odds against an amateur winner were great.

The only other post-Second World War amateurs to win were American Charlie Fenwick, ten years earlier on Ben Nevis, and in 1946 the Scots Guards former amateur champion Captain Bobby Petre on Lovely Cottage. Otherwise, the flamboyant Spaniard, the Duc de Albuquerque, added much colour to his various gallant but failed attempts during the 1950s, 60s and 70s. A handful won earlier in the century, and the remarkable Jack Anthony three times in 1911, 1915 and 1920 on Glenside, Ally Sloper and Troytown. In 1906 Ascetic’s Silver was ridden to victory by Aubrey Hastings. In the nineteenth century many winners were amateur ridden.

One of the traditions of Grand National morning is the pre-breakfast ‘pipe-opener’ given to contenders out in the centre of the course, watched not only by trainers and connections but members of the public willing to get up early enough. This tingling atmosphere was the last thing that was needed for a horse with the nervous disposition of Mr Frisk, who would have burnt up unnecessary energy instead of saving it for the race. So he stayed firmly in his box until all the other horses had finished and then he was just led out for a short while.

The Baileys had been dreaming of how they hoped the race would go for weeks past. Mrs Duffey joined them on the packed stand for owners and trainers. Mr Frisk and the other American-owned horse, Uncle Merlin, matched strides going a tremendous gallop on the fast ground, until Marcus settled his mount in just behind. At Becher’s second time round Uncle Merlin just missed his footing and Hwyel Davies unluckily found himself bumping along the ground.

Kim Bailey know then they should win, but he suffered an agony, for there was still all that way to come home. He not only chain-smoked, but at one time had three cigarettes alight in his hand, some of them burning his fingers. Like Jenny Pitman before him, he found himself vowing to give up smoking if his horse won.

Up in Yorkshire, Mr Frisk’s breeder Ralph Dalton was attending a local point-to-point. While spectators crowded round a television screen, he returned to his car to listen on the radio as the son of a mare he had bought for £150 galloped his way into the history books. Mr Frisk skipped over the last fence, but after it Durham Edition came on to the scene, his stamina carefully conserved by Chris Grant. Would the National yet again see a long-time leader overhauled on the testing run-in?

Mr Frisk did not possess all that character and nervous energy – for so long the bane of the Bailey’s life – for nothing; he stuck to his task tenaciously. Even more importantly, his young amateur rider kept his cool, did not panic, kept the horse together and, some yards from the post, began drawing away again. They had won! And it was a new course record, the first sub-nine-minute race in the National’s history, having clipped an incredible fourteen seconds off Red Rum’s time in 1973.

Tracey, in tears throughout the race, fearful that something would go wrong, jumped up and down so violently that jockey John Mackie’s wife Mary grabbed hold of her to calm her down, fearing for the Safety of her pregnancy. Feeling numb, Tracey linked arms with Mrs Duffey. Together the unlikely pair – the seven-months-pregnant former model who had played such an unusual role in the winner’s training, and the near octogenarian recovering from a broken ankle and so wearing plimsolls, along with an old beret – forced their way through the crowds to the hallowed unsaddling enclosure.

Kim Bailey, the tall trainer who had saddled his first winner, Shifting Gold, at the age of twenty-four only seven days after taking out a trainer’s licence, was there to greet his gallant chestnut and level-headed rider. It was a dream come true.

Within weeks, Mr Frisk was to become the first horse to win the Whitbread (now Bet 365) Gold Cup at Sandown in the same season as the Grand National, giving a scintillating display of bold front-running and jumping over three miles, five furlongs, again beating Durham Edition. His style and character deserved to catch hold of the public imagination as much as Desert Orchid or Red Rum.

He was ridden in all the remainder of his races by Marcus Armytage, including an amateurs’ handicap in which, at 4-1 on, he carried 12 stone to beat the runner-up on 10 stone. On softer ground, and carrying a stone more than the previous year, Mr Frisk ran in the 1991 Grand National but pulled up.

In 2016 the Grand National course was shortened between the start and the first fence in an attempt to reduce the cavalry charge (and so, in theory at least, reduce the number of fallers), meaning that Mr Frisk’s record over the original length cannot be beaten. Only Many Clouds (over the shortened course), along with Mr Frisk, has produced a sub-nine-minute time in the history of the Grand National.

Race record

MR FRISK, won 18 races over fences from 7 to 12 years and £213,286 including Seagram Grand National Handicap Chase, Liverpool, Gr.3, Whitbread Gold Cup Handicap Chase, Sandown Park, Gr.3, Anthony Mildmay-Peter Cazalet Memorial Handicap Chase, Sandown Park, L., H S Commercial Spares Handicap Chase, Wetherby, L. and John Haggas Memorial Novices’ Chase, Wetherby, L., placed 12 times including third in Hennessy Cognac Gold Cup Handicap Chase, Newbury, Gr.3 (twice) and Racing Post Handicap Chase, Kempton Park, Gr.3; also won 4 point-to-points at 6 and 7 years.

Extract from Anne Holland’s The Grand National – A Celebration of the World’s Most Famous Horse Race, published by Weidenfeld & Nicholson in hardback at £20 and eBook at £10.99. Anne Holland was a successful amateur rider who once rode at Aintree on Grand National day. She has written many books on horse racing, including Steeplechasing: A Celebration, All In The Blood, and The Grand National: The Irish At Aintree