Life’s good as time out puts everything in perspective for champion trainer Lee Freedman

IN the claustrophobic, all-consuming world of horse racing, it sometimes takes a time out — forced or chosen — to make sense of it.

Champion trainer Lee Freedman works around his Flemington stables this afternoon, Melbourne. 10th March 2016. Picture: Colleen Petch.

IN the claustrophobic, all-consuming world of horse racing, it sometimes takes a time out — forced or chosen — to make sense of it.

Jim Conlan was once plucked by stewards from the training ranks and found himself the oldest student at the Point Leo surf school. He travelled and left the world and the racetrack temporarily in his wake.

Lee Freedman pulled himself out in 2011. He was tired of it, depressed. He says it wasn’t the most “extravagant’’ period of his life, nor was the period that preceded it.

He’d formed a quirky training partnership with Graeme Rogerson at Randwick. It lasted a year and was “a mistake.’’

In those three years Freedman played more golf — “and got worse at it’’ — became a drop-in racing commentator, worked for a year for Lloyd Williams, first with Williams’ horses, then with his staff.

Williams picked Freedman up in a helicopter down at the Mornington Peninsula and asked him out for lunch, then offered him a job.

These things, including some consulting work for a mate who owns a stud in New Zealand, were mini chapters as Freedman pondered his current and former life.

They were enjoyable and enriching, he said, but not as enriching as the perspective he gained from previously untapped circles.

Towards the end of his time at Markdel, his training farm near Rye, Freedman became mates with a bloke called Mick Pearce.

The former champion surfer from the hedonistic seventies was mates with other mates whose meccas were places like Waikiki.

“Mick’s a local icon. He did a bit of work for me as nightwatchman. I think he’s more into paddle boards these days. A few of us catch up a fair bit; probably once every three months or so,’’ Freedman said.

Lee Freedman works around his Flemington stables. Picture: Colleen Petch

These mates helped Freedman fill in days that had become long and lonely.

“Retirement’s not good, for blokes in particular,’’ he said. “They think it’s going to be all golf and sailing but you do it for about six months and you realise no one else is doing it but you. It’s like holidays. They’re the icing on the cake but they are not the purpose.’’

Freedman said these mates provided perspective about his own suspended career and the world away from it.

“I’m lucky I can train racehorses but other people win gold medals at Olympics, they do other things. Impressive stuff.’’

Freedman suffered depression either side of his first retirement but says the black dog has been shooed off.

From training farms and sprawling pads in wine regions Freedman now lives in a townhouse in Essendon West with his partner Jo; one of two on the same block in a standard suburban street.

One thing his break taught him was the trappings are just that. What counts is the passion and the passion is the horses. It always was.

“Seriously, I don’t worry about money all that much. Even back in the heyday of the four brothers there was really never much money. It was always invested in something,’’ he said.

“Doing what I’m doing is the most important thing for me. If you’re doing it well you make money anyway.’’

Freedman is back doing it and doing it well. There was scepticism in some circles about rekindling the partnership with his brother Anthony, given they seemed to tire of each other up there in that lonely tower at Markdel, which remains unsold and overgrown, a relic of Freedman’s past.

“We fight a bit, I guess — more misunderstandings, but not even that really because we’re just so bloody busy. He’s down at the Peninsula and I’m at Flemington. It’s working really well,’’ he said.

Lee Freedman runs his eyes over a stable runner. Picture: Colleen Petch

Early suggestions of success, a few winners here and there, have become big statements from Lee and Anthony Freedman.

Horses like Malaguerra, Tom Melbourne and Santa Ana Lane are flying and import Our Ivanhowe is poised on Saturday to give Freedman his third Australian Cup, 11 years after Makybe Diva delivered his second.

The $2.90 favourite is Bow Creek, with Our Ivanhowe, who was luckless behind Bow Creek at his last start, next at $5.

“Ours was stiff, the other horse won well. I think we can beat him,’’ he said.

A training lifetime ago Freedman would have regarded a race like the Australian Cup as something to worry about, then mope about if he lost it.

But that time-out, that ability to sit above the sport and ponder it, those new mates, have affected his view.

“It taught me a lot about the business and a lot about myself and how I wanted to approach it,’’ he said, almost mouthing “there’s more to life.’’

“I don’t have that same level of disappointment as I used to because I’ve managed to keep expectation in check,’’ he said.

No shortage of work for Lee Freedman at his Flemington base. Picture: Colleen Petch