How should I address you? Can I call you Mr Well?

No.

But you did agree to an interview… Can we start now?

Did you say ‘start’?

I’m sorry. I meant begin, or commence…

Commence. That’s better.

You’ve got a bit of a reputation for not taking part in races.

For not commencing. When I race, I race. Except when I’m not up for it, of course.

Did you have a traumatic childhood, an abusive trainer? Are you more to be pitied than to be condemned? What is the reason for your, er, problem?

There’s no reason. I just have a mean streak.

You’ve moved to a new trainer, Petr Juránek, and you’ll have a new rider, Sertash Ferhanov, in your race at Lysá on Thursday. Will that make any difference?

I don’t suppose so. All trainers and riders are the same to me.

Not many men or horses defy Josef Váňa the way you did.

Josef who?

What is your favourite stunt? The craziest thing you’ve done on the racetrack?

There was the time they drove me all the way to Merano, and I decided not to run. That was cool! And in last year’s Velka Pardubicka I actually took ten strides and then decided to stop. The little guy with the twisted leg was sour. Then he kicked me out of his yard. Big deal!

I remember several years ago at Pardubice, a horse tried to demolish the rail in front of the main stand. I think it was you.

Of course it was me! I was lucky not to do myself an injury.

Some people have suggested that you should be made into salami. I see there’s a Polish horse called Salam in the race against you on Thursday. Does that make you nervous?

Everything makes me nervous. And I think I’m too tough for salami.

Here you are, 11 years old, and you could have been one of the greats. And you’re racing at Lysá nad Labem on a Thursday afternoon in July! Don’t you regret your missed opportunities?

I’ll tell you what I regret. I regret winning 15 races, five of them at Category I and above. And I’m warning you, I just might have one of my co-operative days on Thursday, and decide it’s time I won my third Category I race at Lysá.