From behind the sofa, to leading in the saddle: David Bass on his journey into racing

“It’s the race everyone dreams about”

For many who follow racing, the Grand National is a once-a-year spectacle. For one jockey, it was the spark that lit everything.

“It’s one of my earliest memories,” David Bass says. “I remember Miinnehoma winning it in 1994. Richard Dunwoody rode him. I was about six. My dad loved racing, so the National was a big event in our house curtains drawn, phone off the hook, the whole thing.”

That childhood fascination briefly turned into ambition. “I wanted to be a jockey when I was very young because my dad and granddad loved racing. But then football came along, then music, skateboarding […] racing didn’t disappear, but it took a back seat.”

It wasn’t until his mid-teens that the idea returned, suddenly and decisively.

“I was about 16 and didn’t really know what I wanted to do. Then I went racing with my dad at Stratford Racecourse. He said, ‘You used to want to do this.’ That was it. Something just clicked. I thought, ‘Yeah, that’s what I want.’”

With little experience around horses, the route in was clear. “I went to racing school. I had to learn everything, how to deal with horses, how to ride properly. It was the easiest way to get started when you’ve got no background.”

Given how it began, it was fitting that the Grand National would come to define key moments in his career.

“My first ride in the National, in 2014, was a big deal. My family were there it felt surreal. It’s the one race everyone dreams about riding in, let alone winning.”

Two years later came an even bigger opportunity and a near miss, despite his 600 plus career wins alongside almost 1000 places (according to RacingandSports.com.au) this race sticks in the memory.

“I rode the favourite in 2016 and finished second. That was huge. It’s probably the race I wanted to win more than any other.”

To the outside world, riding can look glamorous. The reality, he says, is very different.

“I think people would be shocked by the amount of driving we do and the amount of work we do without getting paid. I’ve done a lot of riding out for no money.”

That, he explains, was simply part of the system. “You ride out to get rides. That’s how you build relationships and, long-term, earn money. But the mileage we do is crazy. The driving is tiring, the dieting is tough.”

And that’s before the physical and mental toll is considered.

“You’re riding with injuries a lot of the time. Mentally, it’s up and down winning, losing, getting jocked off, dealing with owners. There’s a lot behind the scenes people don’t see.”

His career has been shaped by long associations with particular yards, something he values highly.

“I spent about nine years with Kim Bailey, and I liked being really involved. You get to know the horses. How they jump, how they travel, their little traits. That makes a difference on the track.”

More recently, riding freelance has brought a different challenge.

“You end up riding horses you’ve never seen before. Some jockeys are very comfortable with that they’ll just ask around, get a bit of information and go. On the Flat, it’s the same plenty just turn up and ride one blind. If the horse is good enough, you’ll win on it.”

Still, he prefers familiarity. “I like building that relationship with a horse if I can.”

Like any jockey, his career has provided its share of chaos sometimes unintentional comedy (at his expense!).

“I once ended up on the wrong track at Leicester Racecourse. The horse ducked inside a rail, not my fault, and suddenly I’m galloping down the wrong course alongside the field. All the other lads are alongside me shouting and giving me abuse. At the time, everyone else found it hilarious.”

Not all the memories are so light-hearted.

“I’ve been in races where multiple horses fall at the same fence, that’s always chaotic, bodies and horses everywhere.”

One incident, in particular, stands out.

“I got stuck under a horse at Bangor Racecourse for about five minutes. He was a big horse, very tired, fell at the last and rolled on top of me. They couldn’t get him off. That wasn’t a great feeling.”

From childhood recollections of a famous winner to the hard reality of the saddle, David Bass’ story reflects the full spectrum of National Hunt racing the dream, the grind, and everything in between. And it all goes back to one afternoon in 1994, watching Miinnehoma storm to glory.