BY and large, I try to avoid regrets. You weigh things up, make your decisions and then live with what happens. There seems to be little point in continuing then to look back and say you should have done things differently because you don’t know how things would have worked out had you done them another way.

In essence, we live, we learn, we say sorry where we have to, change where we need to, and we move on. We can’t change the past, but we can learn from it in order to shape the future in a better way.

Where is this leading? To Mill Reef, one of the greatest racehorses of all time and, when you combine a racing career with a record at stud, arguably the greatest in the modern era.

As a child, I turned down the opportunity of seeing Mill Reef win the Greenham Stakes at Newbury on his first run as a three-year-old. He had impressed hugely as a two-year-old, winning the Coventry Stakes, Gimcrack Stakes and Dewhurst Stakes and was beaten a whisker by the brilliant juvenile My Swallow in the Prix Robert Papin in France.

He went into the winter as a leading contender for the 1971 classics. My father, Tom, was his blacksmith and one of his minders, along with his groom, John Hallam (who was also a fine footballer, a winger with electric pace who Southampton tried to sign) and travelling head lad, Bill Jennings, a droll and typically quick-witted Liverpudlian.

All three were to feature in a film made about the story of Mill Reef’s life called Something To Brighten The Morning, which was narrated by Albert Finney and produced by Brough Scott.

They all went to Newbury on that April afternoon while I stayed at home. Well, I was only 10 and the previous October had nearly frozen stiff when attending my very first race-meeting with Dad. That memory lived on although, of course, it faded with time and was replaced by better ones.

Looking back, I’d love to have been there, but I wasn’t. I did, however, get to meet the great horse on a few occasions, which is pretty good compensation.

The first time was when Dad came home for breakfast after morning stables and asked if I’d like to meet Mill Reef. The smile on my face meant that no words were needed in reply.

The great horse was standing in his box when I walked with Dad across the stable yard, the top yard. As we approached, he turned and looked out of his box: inquisitive, interested, intelligent. He wanted to know what was going on and he wanted to be part of it.

He had a lively and receptive personality plus the confidence of a champion, which he was, something he somehow seemed to know.

He was also a leader, a bully in the paddocks as a youngster (as many great horses have been), but he never wilted, as many have done, when he got his nose bloodied, so to speak, out on the racetrack.

Furthermore, he had courage, as his successful battle back from a serious career-ending injury testified, and a tremendous will to win.

Having listened to Dad and a number of the other highly-skilled horsemen that worked at the time for Ian Balding, Mill Reef’s trainer, at Park House Stables in Kingsclere, Hampshire, a number of Mill Reef memories and stories come to mind.

For example, when Dad came in one morning and said in his understated way that ‘we have a nice two-year-old running today.’ That juvenile was Mill Reef prior to his blistering debut win at Salisbury.

Ian Balding is quoted as saying of Mill Reef’s first serious pieces of work that “either he was brilliant or the rest were no good”. He later added: “As things turned out, both were true!”

There was the story of Caro’s trainer, Albert Klimscha, going to see Mill Reef after his 1971 Eclipse Stakes win, standing there shaking his head in disbelief, saying, “I didn’t think there was a horse born that could give my horse such a beating”.

Ian Balding trained Mill Reef \ Healy Racing

Prior to the Eclipse, Caro, who was second at Sandown beaten four lengths, had broken the course record when landing the Group 1 Prix Ganay at Longchamp against high-class opposition.

Immediately after the Eclipse, jockey Geoff Lewis was asked why he had taken the lead so early in the race. He had just started to say, ‘I had to, they were going so slow …’ when the course commentator announced that Mill Reef had set a new track record!

And there was Derby day, when Mill Reef was starting to get a bit edgy out on the Downs, something that had happened at Newmarket before the 2000 Guineas and which may have contributed to his defeat by the admittedly brilliant Brigadier Gerard, and Dad took off his trilby, turned it upside down and offered it to him. Mill Reef immediately became curious and playful and his mind was taken off his growing anxiety.

There was also the time when Dad bent down to pick up some conkers from the paddock at Longchamp to bring home to my brothers, sisters and me before the 1971 Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe and, next time round at the same spot, Mill Reef refused to move on until Dad had picked up some more.

Mill Reef on his way to the start - note the presence of the car on the track

And I remember the sheer local excitement that preceded his races, not least the ‘Arc’ in 1971, and the joy that followed his victory.

I recall sitting with my mum, brothers and sisters, huddled around the television, proudly wearing our black Mill Reef badges with his name spelt out in gold letters upon them, the colours mirroring the silks of his owner, American billionaire philanthropist and art collector, Paul Mellon.

I recall the flags and bunting that lined his route back to the stables in Kingsclere following his win in Paris and the excitement and wonder that gripped and enthralled the village.

There’s no two ways about it, horses can create such moods, excitement, affection and joy. And people turned out in their hundreds to say goodbye at a farewell party held for him at Park House in 1972.

He was, undoubtedly, a unique and engaging horse, and an exceptional racehorse – as mentioned, one of the all-time greats – who went on to prove himself a great stallion too.

For example, by 1987 he had sired two Derby winners, Shirley Heights (1978) and Reference Point (1987) and a grandson, Slip Anchor, who was by Shirley Heights, won the Derby in 1985.

He was the sire of many other Group 1 winners and also excelled as a broodmare sire. In particular, if you look at many of the great Coolmore champions or Group 1 winners of the last 20 years, you will see Sadler’s Wells’ influence on the top line of the pedigree and Mill Reef’s influence on the bottom line.

Geoff Lewis and Mill Reef celebrate another success

Fairly recent examples are High Chaparral, Fame And Glory, Alexandrova, Septimus, Yesterday and Treasure Beach, winners of eight classics between them.

Wherever you see Darshaan, Slip Anchor, Shirley Heights, Daylami, Mark Of Esteem, Doyoun or Dalakhani, think Mill Reef.

You can add to the list dual-Group 1 winner Lillie Langtry, whose dam was sired by Darshaan, 2008 Irish Oaks winner Moonstone, who is by Dalakhani, and Epsom Derby winners Pour Moi (2011), who is by Montjeu, a son of Sadler’s Wells, out of a mare by Mill Reef’s grandson, Darshaan, Harzand (2016), whose maternal grandam is by Darshaan, and Wings Of Eagles (2017), who is by Pour Moi.

Mill Reef can also be seen in the pedigrees of recent Oaks winners Anapurna, Minding - a dual-classic winner by Galileo, a son of Sadler’s Wells, whose maternal grandam was by Darshaan – and Taghrooda, English 1000 Guineas winner, Legatissimo, English 2,000 Guineas winner, Night Of Thunder, and English St Leger winner, Logician.

Add to the list recent Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe winners Waldgeist and the great Enable, winner of two Arcs, two King George VI & Queen Elizabeth Stakes, two Yorkshire Oaks, the Eclipse Stakes, Epsom Oaks, Irish Oaks and a Breeders’ Cup Turf. Her maternal grandam, Apogee, is by Mill Reef’s son, Shirley Heights. She was mated with Sadler’s Wells to produce Enable’s dam, Concentric.

By common consensus, Mill Reef was a perfectly-formed racehorse although, at 15.2hh, he wasn’t tall. He raced 14 times, winning on 12 occasions, including the Epsom Derby, Eclipse Stakes, King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes, Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, Prix Ganay and Coronation Cup.

He is the only horse to have won the Derby, Eclipse, King George and Arc in the same season, and his record of having won six successive Group 1 races stood until Rock Of Gibraltar came along in 2001-2002.

He acted on any going and at times almost seemed to float over the ground, as evidenced by his extraordinary Gimcrack Stakes win at York on heavy going as a two-year-old. He also had great courage and a will to live, which was amply displayed when he survived a major operation after breaking a leg while at exercise on Kingsclere Downs in 1972.

He touched the lives of many, many people and was truly one of the all-time great racehorses and stallions.

If I’d had memories of Mill Reef back in October 1970, I feel sure that I would not have got so cold on the day of my first trip to the races. And it brings a smile to think that the racing world had ended 1970 rueing the retirement of the great, imperious, Vincent O’Brien-trained Nijinsky.

Had he stayed in training, there would have been Nijinsky, Mill Reef and Brigadier Gerard all featuring in the same season. That is quite a thought. As things turned out, we were still served up racing the like of which has rarely been seen, memories of which would warm the coldest day.

Mill Reef was celebrated in print, on film and canvas, this example being by renowned artist Sue Crawford