Overdose, perhaps the fastest horse in the world, is being talked about as Hungary’s Seabiscuit – the sporting hope of a nation reeling
AS GABRIELLA JESENSKY steps towards the paddock rail with an apple for her favourite horse, a black-clad security guard blocks her path and slowly shakes his shaven head.
It is not just any old nag rolling in the dirt and kicking up huge clouds of dust behind him: this is Overdose, perhaps the fastest horse in the world, and sporting hope of Hungary.
Bought almost by accident for just €2,300 in 2006, Overdose is now worth millions after winning all 12 of his races in stunning fashion, and he is credited with revitalising not only Hungary’s ancient equestrian tradition but the spirit of a country wearied by its political and economic woes.
A fortnight ago, on the heels of a government collapse, the announcement of a harsh austerity budget and predictions of the worst recession since the fall of communism, Overdose streaked to victory at Budapest’s Kincsem Park, the country’s last surviving racecourse.
More than 20,000 people packed into the racecourse to watch him – more than 20 times the usual attendance and thousands more than its official capacity – and laid bets with such abandon that the 30-year-old bookmakers’ system collapsed under the strain. He broke the course record on his way to the finishing post, but the antiquated timing system also seized up on the big occasion.
Such is the popularity of Overdose, in a country that has few world-beaters and is suffering a dearth of good news, that he has already been called Hungary’s Seabiscuit, in reference to the legendary American horse that inspired a nation wracked by the Great Depression of the 1930s.
“Before Overdose, Hungarians had forgotten all about horseracing – we had great traditions but no present and no future,” says Zalan Horvath, secretary of the Association for the Future of Equestrian Sports in Hungary.
“Last year, the government wanted to sell Kincsem Park, our last racecourse, to raise money. But after what Overdose did there at the weekend, it would very hard for them to do that. He really is Hungary’s Seabiscuit – everyone loves him, and he can open a new golden age for Hungarian racing.”
Overdose lives at a ramshackle stable complex in Dunakeszi, just outside Budapest, under the watchful eye of trainer Sandor Ribarszki.
“He wasn’t ugly, not quite, but he was bony, he had small bones and didn’t look very strong,” the trainer remembered of the horse he calls “Dozi”.
“But I’ve seen before how a horse can change. He arrived in November and by the next April he just wanted to run and run – we had to hold him back.
“A race to him is like it is to me. He gives everything, from the heart. Whether it’s a big race or a small race, he only wants to win. America had Seabiscuit when everything was s**t – now we have Overdose.”
Hungary would have missed out on Overdose if not for Zoltan Mikoczy’s love of the auction ring and weakness for racehorses.
When the one-year-old was led out at the 2006 year-end sales at Newmarket, England, the steel trader raised a hand in jest, convinced that not even this puny specimen could go for the equivalent of just €2,300.
But no one else made a bid, leaving Mikoczy with a horse he didn’t really want. He looked around for possible co-owners to split the costs, but none were found.
“A horse like this comes around once a century; there hasn’t been a horse in this part of Europe since Kincsem,” says Mikoczy, recalling the great Hungarian horse of the 1870s, which retired undefeated after 54 races and gave its name to Budapest’s racetrack.
“I’m not interested in the money, I’m interested in having one of the best racehorses in the world and hearing the Hungarian anthem played at the race track. Getting Overdose is like having hit the jackpot in the lottery and I know I’ll never have a chance like this again.”
Mikoczy’s joy at Overdose’s success is shared by his compatriots, who saw their government crumble recently due to the economic crisis. Hungary was the first European Union member to seek an emergency loan from international lenders last year, but unemployment is rising, deep recession is looming and budget cuts are inevitable, despite a €20 billion cash injection.
And Overdose’s international reputation could be sealed when he races in England later this month, ridden by star Belgian jockey Christophe Soumillon.
“We watch him wherever he goes, and I’ve already marked the dates on my calendar when he will be racing in England,” says Jesensky, putting away her apple and watching Overdose pawing the dirt, as his “bodyguard” edges her and friends away from the rail.
“Overdose makes Hungarians feel good,” she says. “We’re so happy that he’s here.”