A classic day out for Lester

On an afternoon of high emotion at Newmarket, the greatest jockey of them all was feted by thousands of racegoers, friends and past rivals. Punters queued patiently for up to half an hour between races for an autograph from the man who dominated the sport for almost half a century.

Sir Peter O'Sullevan set the tone, as he declared: "This man is a hero. Wouldn't it be lovely if we could greet him next time as Sir Lester. No sportsman deserves it more."

The subject of all the adulation was typically taciturn yesterday. Looking fit and well after a heart scare in the spring, he preferred to leave the talking to others.

Though he did acknowledge: "It's great to be here and a fantastic compliment to have all these races named after my Guineas winners."

Piggott was the heartbeat of racing for six decades. He rode his first winner aged 12, in 1948, had his first ride in the Derby at 15 — and finished second on Gay Time, in 1952.

Two years later, he won the Derby for the first of nine times on Never Say Die.

The following month his refusal to be intimidated by senior jockeys on the same horse at Ascot cost him a sixmonth suspension for rough riding.

Piggott was too tall and unorthodox to be the perfect jockey, but overcame those difficulties to record over 5,000 winners around the world,nine championships and a record 30 Classics.

Through it all he was essentially a loner, a free spirit, with a mystique that made him the one jockey in the world everyone wanted to see.

Later, he flirted briefly with training but for Piggott preparing horses at home couldn't begin to match the lure of riding them on the racecourse. His life hit the buffers when he was sent to prison for a year in 1987 for tax evasion. Then his OBE was taken away.

But they couldn't break his spirit and, of all his astonishing achievements, I treasure his thunderous triumph at the venerable age of 55 on Royal Academy at the 1990 Breeders' Cup in New York only days into his comeback, five years after his first retirement.

Someone asked Piggott if his style had changed? "No, it's just the same. One leg each side," he said.

Tales of his alleged meanness lingered down the years. I like the one about the stable lad who asked for a £5 tip after leading up a winner ridden by the great man.

"Sorry," muttered Lester, "I'm a bit deaf in that ear. Try the other one."

Encouraged that he had not been turned down flat, the lad upped the asking rate to £10.

"No, no," shrugged the jockey. "Try the £5 ear again."

For a while Lester had a lucrative column in the Evening Standard ghost written by a youthful Brough Scott.

From a few short, pithy comments snatched on the move, Scott somehow crafted a hugely readable column.

Then Piggott disappeared during a suspension, in the days before mobile phones. You can imagine Brough's relief when he finally got through to him somewhere in Paris. His delight was shortlived.

"You know what to say," he told Scott, before putting down the phone.

At 71, his hair is snow white, but he retains the familiar lean, hungry look of a gunfighter. We will never see another jockey like him.