Gunsynd

In 1969, Goondiwindi grazier “Winks” McMicking spotted a grey yearling heading to the Brisbane sales. The colt had knocked his knee in the float on the way there, and Winks made sure other buyers knew about the defect, even though a vet had told him it would not affect the horse’s gallop.

Winks needed backers. He walked into the Victoria Hotel in Goondiwindi and found three willing partners: hotel licensee George Pippos, newsagent Bill Bishop, and Jim Coorey. They put up $1,000 each and bought the colt for a bargain $1,300.

They named him Gunsynd, shortened from “Goondiwindi Syndicate.” Their dream? Win a race at the local track.

Gunsynd started under Doomben trainer Bill Wehlow, a former Goondiwindi station manager trying to break into the training game. Wehlow delivered 12 wins from 22 starts, including wins at Eagle Farm, Randwick, and the Chelmsford Stakes. Not bad for a bush trainer and a bargain horse.

But when Gunsynd transferred to the legendary T.J. “Tommy” Smith in Sydney, everything changed. Smith was a class above: the most successful trainer in Australian history. Under Smith, with champion jockey Roy Higgins, “The Professor,” in the saddle, Gunsynd went from good horse to national icon.

It was a bittersweet story for Wehlow. He had found the talent, developed it, and then watched someone else take the glory. That is the reality of racing: sometimes the trainer who starts the journey is not the one who finishes it.

In the 1971/72 season, Gunsynd did something that had never been done and may never be done again. He won all four of Australia’s major mile handicaps in a single campaign.

Look at those weights climbing. As Gunsynd kept winning, the handicapper kept loading more weight onto his back. By the Doncaster, he was carrying 60.5kg, a monster impost that would crush most horses. Gunsynd carried it and won anyway.

Gunsynd was not just fast. He was a showman.

The grey would stop on the way to the barriers, look up at the grandstand, and refuse to move until the crowd applauded loud enough. Only when the noise satisfied him would he consent to walk to the starting gates. After winning, he would bow to the crowd like a performer taking an encore.

“Before multi-camera television, a grey coat was a signal flare. Everyone in the grandstand could find him.”

His striking grey coat helped too. In an era long before multi-camera television coverage, racegoers in the stands could easily spot the grey horse in the field. He became the most recognisable racehorse in the country.

Owner Bill Bishop remembered how the grey turned even little old ladies who had never followed the races into devoted fans. The local TAB had to open a dedicated window just for people wanting to support Gunsynd.

A hit song, “The Goondiwindi Grey” by Tex Morton, reached the top 40. His face appeared on tea towels, cups, commemorative plates, and trays: one of Australia’s earliest examples of sports merchandise.

Perhaps Gunsynd’s most courageous performance came in the 1972 Melbourne Cup. He ran third, but the raw numbers tell a story of extraordinary heart.

Gunsynd carried 60.5kg. The winner, Piping Lane, carried just 48kg. That is a 12.5kg difference, nearly two stone in the old language. The second-placed horse, Magnifique, had a stone less than Gunsynd.

He was near last at the turn. Then came the trademark late surge: charging through the field with Roy Higgins pushing every ounce out of him. He could not quite get there, but he was not beaten by the horses in front of him. He was beaten by the handicapper’s pen.

On 7 May 1973, the biggest crowd Doomben had ever seen, more than 25,000, bigger than even Black Caviar would draw decades later, packed the racecourse for one last look at their hero.

Traffic was banked up for miles before Gunsynd even arrived at 1pm. Merchandise sold out before he stepped onto the track. Fans gathered near his stall, reaching out to touch something that had touched their lives.

Roy Higgins took him for one final flying gallop down the straight. When it was over, Gunsynd bowed to the crowd one last time: a maestro taking his final encore. Then strapper Larry Olsen rugged him up, and five days later a horse float carried the ultimate grey nomad through the streets of Goondiwindi for a fleeting farewell.

He retired to stud at Kia Ora near Scone. Though his progeny were modest, his granddaughter Emancipation became the 1983/84 Australian Champion. Gunsynd was euthanised in 1983, aged 16, after a recurring nasal tumour. But his legacy lives on: a statue on the banks of the Macintyre River, a museum in the Civic Centre, and the Group 3 Gunsynd Classic run at Doomben every year in his honour.