Mike Moroney’s passion for racing and life was unbridled. His family and friends, including leviathan owner Rupert Legh, will have to learn to live without his substantial presence after his death this week.
In a 25-year owner-trainer relationship, Rupert Legh only once “banned” Mike Moroney. It lasted two years and it was completely reasonable.
Moroney was a legendary trainer and a great trainer and mate for Legh, one of Australia’s most prominent owners and syndicators. They met at an after-party for Brew’s win in the 2000 Melbourne Cup and it was the start of something special.
Legh, an ex-policeman, does not tend to warm quickly to people. But he was quickly drawn to Moroney, the loveable big Kiwi with that hilarious, self-effacing sense of humour shared over a bottle of Pinot Noir.
Legh and Moroney never fought or even argued once. In an owner/trainer relationship, this is beyond rare. Such was their bond, Legh never looked even half-sideways when Moroney was struggling, either with Legh’s horses on the racetrack or in life.
But Moroney, who died earlier this week at age 66 from complications of cancer, was naughty at naming horses, hence Legh’s two-year ban that kept “Big Mike” well away from horse registration forms.
“There are lots of stories about Mike and his naming of horses,” Legh said. “Most of them had us in stitches but they were out there.”
Legh’s syndicate, with its lightning bolt livery, enjoyed great success with Moroney, including Sound, an import who arrived with Melbourne Cup aspirations. Sound never won that race but like his trainer, he became a beloved stalwart and winner of two Zipping Classics.
Glass Harmonium was another Group 1-winning import, while Mr Baritone won a Stradbroke.
The best for Legh and Moroney was probably Tofane, a five-time Group One winning mare who’d have been named Sandpaper had Legh not imposed his ban. She was out of a mare named Baggy Green.
“It was just after the sandpaper scandal in the cricket in South Africa. It may have gone down well in South Africa but I’m not sure here. It was a case of a bit too soon,” Legh said.
Like so many others, Legh has been rocked by the passing of Moroney, whose health battles had been well documented but who always seemed larger than life. The death of such characters is simply harder to reconcile.
Moroney attended the Caulfield races last Saturday, where he and Legh were victorious with Coeur Volante. Just days later and two days before his three-year-old Plymouth was to take his spot in the Australian Guineas, he died.
For Legh, Moroney's death hurt, especially in the context of the loss late Western Districts icon Colin McKenna last year.
“‘What the hell is going on’ I keep asking myself,” Legh said. “I’ve been asked how I’m feeling 1000 times today and the answer is: numb and emotional. It’s a tough day in the office.
“Colin McKenna, a great bloke, a self-made man, and now Mike. To lose two such special people, so close together.”
Moroney and Legh first met at the home of former VRC chairman Andrew Ramsden, to celebrate the Cup win of Ramsden’s horse Brew.
“Mike had come from New Zealand to set up here. Things had changed a bit with me and I was keen to start afresh with a new trainer. It just sort of happened. We clicked,” Legh said.
“It was a friendship more than anything. We had successful times together but also ups and downs. That’s when you stick close.
“He was an immensely likeable person, always had a smile on his face; a good, decent human being. He was a mate. We’d talk at about 7pm most evenings, about the horses about anything. He’d have a glass of Pinot and away we’d go. Me and my wife Cheryl were extremely close to Mike. This is going to be a real struggle.”
The “good bloke” sentiment has been overwhelming in tributes for Moroney, a 55-time Group 1 and Melbourne Cup winner famously successful on both sides of the Tasman and a welcome and successful visitor interstate, particularly Queensland in winter.
His best horse was probably Xcellent, the former champion Kiwi stayer who ran third in Makybe Diva’s third Melbourne Cup, in 2005.
Moroney fiddled with his ring tone so that the final 100 metres of one of Xcellent’s major New Zealand wins was triggered when his mobile went off, which was often. This was a constant source of amusement at racing lunches. Moroney, mid-way through a yarn, glass of pinot in hand, would be constantly interrupted by Xcellent thundering home at Te Rapa.
His other favourite was a mare called Happyanunoit, who would be sold to the United States.
Moroney and the late Russell Cameron were great mates and regular lunch companions. Cameron had the dry wit, Moroney the great stories, often against himself and tracing all the way back to his days as foreman for the legendary Dave O’Sullivan in New Zealand.
He delighted in the story of a great plunge executed by the stable in a race in Adelaide, where he first based himself after arriving from New Zealand. There was also a dose of mischief in any Moroney story.
He was cut more from the Bart Cummings cloth than that of Waller, Price or Maher. He was old-school, a great trainer of stayers, a New Zealand Hall Of Famer and multiple Derby and Cups winner.
He was a big trainer, one of the biggest names in the ranks, but not so big that he and his stable was robotic and dull. He was accessible and laconic, a loved partner to Karen, a father and grandfather.
“It was a friendship more than anything. We had successful times together but also ups and downs. That’s when you stick close" - owner Rupert Legh on his relationship with Mike Moroney
The last chat I had with him was a year or so ago. Moroney was in New Zealand at the wedding reception for his daughter Aliesha. He was ill, and he knew it, but he beamed with pride in describing the occasion.
He delighted in his daughter’s special day more than any of his racetrack wins. A horse race was just a horse race.
A “lifer” as a trainer. he enjoyed the world outside the grind of it. Family meant more than anything.
Aliesha posted this on Facebook after his passing: “I will miss you every single day dad, you were just the best in every way. You taught me that spending time means everything.”
Moroney and his younger brother Paul were hand in glove in life and business. Paul, the bloodstock agent, sourced stock from all over the world and Mike would train them, often to great successes.
Paul posted this on his brother’s passing: “Rest in peace brother. You left us too soon. I will never forget the bond and times we had as brothers both in life and our chosen passion and professions. Love you forever.”
On Thursday night, a horse trained by Moroney and his training partner Glen Thompson, Burlington Gate, saluted at Pakenham, with Blake Shinn in the saddle and Legh in the ownership. There wasn’t a dry eye on track or for anyone who watched on television.
The gap he leaves is bigger than the man himself.
