Every year millions of Australians stop what they’re doing and gather round a radio or television to enjoy a horse race.

The Melbourne Cup is part of Australia’s fabric like no other sporting event – bosses ignore sickies, TABs are full and primary schools organise sweeps and broadcast the call over the PA, as the nation gives in to its inner punter for one glorious day.

But what’s it like for the 24 brave souls who pull on the silks and thunder around Flemington with more than 500kg of horse under them? Or go to sleep the night before knowing they’re on the favourite?

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Veteran jockey Peter Mertens has been there, done that.

He’s ridden in five Melbourne Cups, the first back in 1994 on Toll Bell, and he was aboard Envoy in 2005, within touching distance of the great Maykbe Diva as the mare won her third straight Cup.

Mertens, who has been sidelined with a collarbone injury since a fall in December, shares what it’s like to be a part of the race that stops a nation.

Sleepless night

Mertens says he found it difficult to sleep the night before Cup day, not because of nerves but rather because of injuries he’s had over the years. Still, there are definitely a few butterflies on Cup eve.

“The worst night I ever had was when I was riding the pre-race favourite Big Pat (2001),” Mertens says.

“It was getting to me. But then it started to rain, and with every drop of rain and I knew my chances were going out the window. By the time I got to the racetrack I was virtually resigned to the fact that we were going to struggle.

“The night before everyone’s excited. I’ve got a big family, and we’re all excited. All you want to do is just chill out. People ring up and wish you well, and it’s great, it’s fantastic, but all you want to do is sort of block that out and get to sleep and get the job done the next day.

“Anyone who says they haven’t got nerves for the Melbourne Cup day has got no feelings at all. But it’s good, that’s what gets your adrenalin and gets you going. That’s what you ride all your life for, is to ride in the Melbourne Cup.”

Weighting game

Jockeys’ struggles with the scales are well publicised. For Mertens, the lead-up to Cup day was usually spent eating very little.

“In all but one of my Melbourne Cup rides they were all somewhere around the 50kg mark, so it’s weeks of wasting, weeks of diet.

“If you try and do it the right way, that’s the key, if you do it the wrong way you’ll really struggle. In racing though, everyone does it the wrong way at some stage of their career.”

To ride Toll Bell in 1994, Mertens had to shift seven kilos in a less than a week to take his place in the field.

“I did it, but that’s the wrong way to do it.”

Melbourne Cup morning

Forget a sleep-in – even on Cup day there’s still training to be done.

“You get up at 4:30 and go do your track work, and Tuesday morning’s quite a big galloping morning for trainers,” Mertens says.

“I wouldn’t do many obviously because I wouldn’t have much time, but I’d go and do a couple just to clean the pipes out. Get home, might need another sweat before the races started. You’d either do it off course, or drive in early and do it on course.”

Mertens has a sauna at home – quite common for men in his profession – and there are also two at Flemington which see plenty of use around this time of year.

“If I was riding in the Cup, I’d try and only have half a kilo to do. Any more than that, you really put yourself under pressure. If I only had half a kilo, and I had three of four rides before the Cup, I could do that just riding, but if it was going to be a coldish day I’d jump in the sauna.

“You’ve normally got a half-dozen rides, and the first ride is normally really early – 10:40, 10:50, something like that. To beat the traffic, you’ve got to be out and gone by 9am.”

The old kit bag

So what does a jockey take to the races? Well, plenty as it turns out. Whip, helmet, goggles, riding grip, safety vest, lead bag (goes under the saddle so that weights can be placed in), breast plate, girths and surcingles (straps that secure the saddle to the horse) – it’s an extensive array of equipment.

“Basically everything stays in there, the only things that come out are the girths, surcingles and towels and packing that you actually wash,” Mertens says.

“They get sweaty and dirty so you tend to wash them after every meeting. Your silks, the breeches with your name there, need to be washed. That’s all done the night before. Colours are just like a shirt, and they’re supplied by the trainers. Most days you’ll ride in four, five, six sets of different colours.”

Countdown

“Normally, there’s a 45-50 minute gap between the race before and the Cup, just to get all the niceties out of the way,” Mertens says.

“Stewards call you in and give you a talking to about penalties, because it’s a Melbourne Cup and they don’t want to see any interference. Then you have to go out and they have a big stage in the mounting yard where you get up and they introduce you to the crowd individually.

“All the horses are getting paraded, things have got to come in and out of the mounting yard, podiums and stuff like that, so there’s a lot going on before the Cup and it’s quite hectic. It’s a long gap between races but it tends to go really fast.”

Fifteen minutes out: “You’re called into the mounting yard and you’re talking to connections, trainers and owners. You’d talk about tactics, where you’re drawn, what you do. Where do you want to be at the half-mile, that kind of thing.”

Ten minutes out: “You’d be on the horse, and you’ve got to parade down the roses. Every horse gets led down to the gap in front of the crowd and the crowd absolutely go berserk. Every horse that goes past, someone’s got something to say.

“It’s a great feeling to go down the roses on the way out, because at that stage you haven’t lost. It’s a bit different when you’re coming back in after the race.”

And they’re off…

As Mertens says, two miles is a long time to travel without making a mistake. And those are just the elements you can control – there are plenty you can’t.

“The year I rode Big Pat (2001), the pre-race favourite, he slipped coming out of the barriers,” Mertens says.

Later in the race, things took an even more dramatic turn. “There was a riderless horse at the half-mile (to go), he got flattened by another runner.

“He (Big Pat) was just starting to pick up and charge home and he was going to run top five, and the horse inside him came under his neck and he (Big Pat) actually fell on to his knees. His head just came up at the right time and I got back in the saddle.”

If Mertens came close to a fall in 2001, four years later – when Makybe Diva was bidding to win her third Melbourne Cup – he thought the noise of the Flemington crowd might blow him out of the saddle.

“The year Makybe Diva won her third, I was in that one and rode a horse called Envoy that was about 300-1,” he says.

“I finished right behind her, and the noise was just unbelievable, it was mind blowing. It made my hair stand up.

“I got into second place at about the furlong, the 250, and I could hear the crowd roar. I thought ‘jeez, here we go’. Then I just saw the blue, red and white flash by me and it’s all over.”

Envoy ran seventh.

Trash talk?

“There’s a little bit of sledging, not a lot,” Mertens says.

“You’ve got to be very focused, especially Melbourne Cup – it’s very hectic, you’ve got two miles to not make a mistake.

“If jockeys try to cut in on you, you let them know and if they’re pestering you, you let them know. You give them a spray. They tend to get the message pretty quick. Sometimes you get the odd bit of banter, not very often.

“The funniest was in the (1993 VRC) Derby, I was on the leader and I heard Greg Hall say to Simon Marshall ‘how you travelling?’ Simon just looked at him and goes ‘not bad’. Greg says ‘not as good as me, mate’. He was on Mahogany, and it won by about eight. That was Greg’s style, he was a great jockey.

“The banter in the jockey’s room before the race is a bit more lively.

“It’s more just hanging s*** on each other, joking around and carrying on. It’s quite good, and since I’ve been out injured I’ve really missed that part, the banter with all the boys.”

Let down

The disappointment can be intense if the race does not go to plan.

“You feel deflated,” Mertens says.

“You go out there as positive as you can be and thinking that if I get everything right I can win this race.

“After Big Pat in 2001 I felt really deflated. It was, ‘if it hadn’t have rained’, ‘if he hadn’t slipped coming out of the barriers’, ‘if the horse hadn’t fallen up in front of the field’, all these things go through your mind. It is what it is, but you’ve just got to pack your bag up and go again the next day.”

Ride another day

After the Cup has been run and won, there’s little else to do but head home to rest up for the next day’s racing.

“Usually the day after Melbourne Cup day is Kyneton Cup day and being a prolific country jockey as well as riding in the city, I still had to service the country tracks as well. Obviously it’s a bit tough, but you have to do it.”

And finally…

We couldn’t let Peter go without a gleaning a little of his wisdom with a tip for the Cup.

“I really like Lucia Valentina, but I really respect the horse that beat her in the Caulfield Cup Admire Rakti. She (Lucia Valentina) was stronger on the line than him. She looks like a real Melbourne Cup type of mare.”