Wild By Name And Nature, Tony Was A Wily Old Rogue

Sydney Morning Herald

Friday June 6, 2008

Max Presnell

"I met him back in the '80s, in the days when Mick Mair was thin, A likeable rogue he'd own up to, face creased with a permanent grin.

Charming, good humoured and witty, a demeanour that seems meek and mild.

But just as Singo was born to be single, Tony was born to be wild."

EARLIER this week, Tony Wildman, 60, "A.E. Wildman" in the racebook, died. These days, racehorse trainers, in the main, are more corporate types but Wildman was an old but outstanding mix: horseman, knockabout bloke and character, the likes of which is becoming very rare.

Banjo Paterson would have penned verse about him, but his mate, John Steinmetz, a Warwick Farm trainer and school teacher, did him proud with poetry at a charity function for him two years ago (part of which is repeated above).

Before I return to those lyrics, allow me a Wildman tale. Call it his Clark Gable chapter, etched in folklore.

Back in the days when Russ Hinze was police minister and Brisbane was free and easy, particularly for the constabulary, local trainers, led by Jack Clayton, as good a Queenslander who ever propped up a bar, would entertain their visiting counterparts at dinner.

As this particular night wore on, and with Wildman in fine form, the restaurant management figured it was the time to end the revelry.

The decision was not appreciated. Thus the police were called.

Clayton was known as "Happy Jack" at the Doncaster at Kensington. He would rather have a laugh than a skirmish, but was not easily put off, once giving Rocky Ned, the famous buckjumper, a run for his money.

Bystanders maintain that the Freedman brothers, showing their good sense, headed for a side door at the first sign of hostilities. Then the constabulary, in an ugly mood, arrived.

The party was ushered to the footpath, where Doc (Geoff) Chapman told them he was the personal medico of Clayton and Wildman, they were currently in perfect nick and no police brutality would be tolerated. He took down the police numbers.

Meanwhile, a runner had been sent for bail. They estimated $500 each. A lady friend of a local who went on to TV fame inflamed the situation further by chanting: "Whoopee do, you big-time coppers poo." She was also bundled into the wagon.

At the station, the visiting trainer was asked his name, for booking purposes. "Wildman," he replied.

Down he went, whether from a backhander or a forehand jolt that would have felled an elephant.

Either way, he couldn't recollect. Staggering to his feet, he was asked again with the same result. Finally, the law enforcer said: "Will Clark Gable do?"

At the same time, the older, leaner Clayton was being treated with kid gloves - an Indian death-lock was being applied by a practitioner who would have done well in the Inquisition.

"Will Gary Cooper suit you?" That was about the only point on which there was no argument.

Finally their "solicitor" arrived and found Wildman banging a tin cup on the bars of the holding cell in a manner that would have done James Cagney proud.

The law were relieved to see the last of them. Bail? Ten bucks. Clark Gable and Gary Cooper never returned to redeem the cash.

Back to an abridged version of Steinmetz ...

"In putting these thoughts down on paper, I face a formidable task.

"To detail Tony's life story but what's hard about that you may ask.

"Well, as Chris Masters will surely agree with, it's a thing called 'biographer's doubt'.

"It's not what to put in that's the issue, the stuff that you have to leave out."

"So, we'll call this the 'sanitised version': A.E. Wildman's life and career.

"Of 30-odd years as a trainer, where there's always plenty of cheer, as well as a few little splinters, sliding down the banister of life.

"A hell of a lot of excitement, mixed up with a bit of strife.

"He started on Don Cornell's prompting, 'You can be whatever you like'. So Tony took out a licence - a cobra waiting to strike.

"And strike he did and strike often, the bookies felt a bit set upon, while punters worked the pattern, how they win when the money went on.

"And Tony found he was good at it, they got a bagful at Newcastle one day, after Bright Mover and Grey Speculator, the books had no funds to pay.

"Then Jericho Lad at headquarters, was another to perform centre stage, in what was a Quo Vadis moment, the bookies wailed, most of all, Terry Page.

"Mind you, this can cause complications, you can take a few whacks on the chin. See, nobody minds a few plunges, it's just that you're not 'sposed to win.

"Because stewards might ask you the question, 'Mr Wildman, its last run was bad, will you please explain the improvement, because some of us think we've been had.'

"Then Tony, ever open and honest, would look them all straight in the eye - 'Mr Chairman, you're not suggesting that a horse in my care failed to try? Sure, it's totally out of my hands, sir, once the jockey's legged astride.'

"'As always, my explanation, it was either bad luck or a bad ride'.

"He's won races for plenty of owners, many of them present today. Others, alas, have departed, still others, just gone away.

"But his luck took a turn in the '90s, the start of plenty of mirth, when he joined up with Harvey and Singo, Destroyer's Image, I think, was the first.

"He was just the first of a whole lot, Tony saddled with blue, white crossed sash. Sally Magic, Disney Dollars, the Iceberg, they all showed plenty of dash.

"And who could forget Gentle Genius, was she really named after Tone? Running a neck behind Sunline, a champ in a class of her own.

"Of late, his passion's been hunting, which he shares his mate Mr Cave. They do seem to find the persona - debonair, handsome and brave.

"Dressed up like two Derby favourites, red coats on a fine jumping horse. They'd not be out of place at Royal Ascot, escorting the Queen up the course.

"Mind you, it's a look that can be changed in the course of a long hunting day. With all the riding and jumping, their appearance can seem to decay.

"But one thing that I haven't worked out yet, as to why they're often in need of a scrub. Is it caused by a big day's hard riding or the turn off to the Berrima pub?

"Not that Tony's been always imbibing, he's had plenty of hours off the drink, demonstrating he was a changed person or what he hoped folks would think.

"But in the end he gave up the practice, 'with much relief', he said with a grin. 'Like that I may be more pleasant, it's just that the horses don't win'."