THE fever is really hot as Derby time gets closer and closer. Needless to say, the running of the Derby conjures memories which have the effect of enduring for many years.

Having been a racing fan from a young age, which means that was a long, long time ago, there was a special fixation on the Derby, and even to this day, those youthful shivers of excitement that went through my body near to the running of the Derby still linger.

I cannot forget the first Derby I actually witnessed at Caymanas Park in 1971 won by the outstanding thoroughbred Reprieve, ridden by Richard DePass in the familiar green and red silks of Judge Hardie and Dr Magnus (not for the life of me can I remember their first names) . While I was filled with joy at seeing the offspring of Zaleucus – Caroline Park romp to victory, I cannot help but remember the circuitous path it took to reach Caymanas Park, and the tricks of the trade that had to be employed in getting away from my father to watch this race.

I was living in Spanish Town at the time and had my own bicycle. The decision had to be made which route to take to get to the Park. There was the tried and proven way of riding past Greendale, then the Jamaica School of Agriculture (now Police Academy) onto Spanish Town Road, then across the rickety and very noisy board bridge at White Marl, then through Gregory Park before reaching the track. Because of being so scared of the rickety bridge of which many curious tales were told, I took the other option – through Spanish Town, onto Port Henderson Road which at the time started at the Spanish Town hospital, through Lake’s Pen, Grange Lane where I attended primary school and where the stables of Laurie and Owen Silvera were located, before reaching the racetrack. In those days the road network was, to say mildly, not as good as it is today, so the ride on Grange Lane was over several tracks which added significantly to my mobile discomfort.

But I wanted to see a Derby for myself after listening to so many on the radio, hearing the quintessential voice of Del Weller, commentating and analysing these races. I had to see a Derby and tricked my way, let me say, by faulty communication with my father as to my intended whereabouts on that July afternoon.

Reprieve won and for the first time I encountered the excitement associated a Derby. It was something to behold and it left a feeling of achievement which can never be replicated, I had actually seen a Derby. Whoopee!

The celebration could not be long as I had to get home before darkness fell. Thank God for those long summer evenings. Yes, I made it back in good time, taking the rickety bridge route without any ‘duppy’ harming me, just in time before my father came home. It was now time to reflect and plant the everlasting memory of my first Derby – a special moment for me always.

And by the way, I will be at Caymanas Park tomorrow, only this time using much better paved roads and a route free from the encumbrances of the rickety bridge and tales of the afterlife.

Good luck to all participants in tomorrow’s 95th Jamaica Derby.