Miracle Star Scripts an Emotional Derby Finale

 

By Sharan Kumar

 

The Gr 1 Mysore Derby this year was not just another classic — it was a story written by destiny, drenched in emotion, and sealed with poetic justice. It was a race that transcended competition, becoming a moving tribute to one of Indian racing’s finest minds — the late S. Padmanabhan, whose life’s work with horses often bordered on the miraculous.

 

Just a week before the Derby, Padmanabhan — lovingly known as Paddy — passed away, leaving behind unfinished plans and a filly he had meticulously readied for the big day. Despite her grief, his wife, Sharmila Padmanabhan, chose to honour his wish. She entered Miracle Star in the race, paying a hefty late-entry fee — not for glory, but because that’s what Paddy would have done. It was, in every sense, his final race — and fittingly, his horse ran like an angel guided by her master’s spirit.

 

As the gates flew open, Red Bishop, trained by Pesi Shroff, carried the burden of being the public choice. Miracle Star, meanwhile, was dismissed by many as an emotional punt — a sentimental flutter for a departed hero. But those who had known Padmanabhan knew better. He had often said that the filly’s run in the 1000 Guineas was not her true measure — that she had far more to give once tuned right. And true to his word, though he was not there to see it, his faith came alive in thunderous fashion.

 

Matisse cut the early pace, with Unforgettable Star, Mahler, and Miracle Star in close pursuit. Red Bishop raced in the rear, biding time. At the 700-metre marker, it was clear that something extraordinary was brewing. While others began to labour, Miracle Star glided — smooth, serene, unbothered — as though she knew this was her moment of destiny.

 

Turning for home, Suraj Narredu, calm and poised, simply waited for the cue. And then, with the ease of divine orchestration, he asked her for an effort — and she responded like a filly possessed. She bounded forward, left the field gasping, and stormed home seven plus lengths clear, sealing one of the most emotionally charged Derby victories in memory. As she crossed the line, Suraj raised his hand skyward — a silent salute to the late trainer. The grandstand erupted; the emotion was palpable. This wasn’t just a race. It was a requiem.

 

For Sharmila, the moment was bittersweet. “This is the best Derby win of my life,” she said, her voice heavy with emotion. “Paddy had planned every detail despite his health. I knew I had to run her. He would have wanted this.”

 

The preparation of Miracle Star bore every hallmark of Padmanabhan’s genius — precision, patience, and quiet confidence. James McKeown, who had worked under him for over a decade and was entrusted with the filly’s care, said, “Her final workout was exactly as Paddy had instructed. Watching her travel in the race, I knew she was transformed. It felt like he was still guiding her.”

 

Suraj Narredu, too, was visibly moved. “I’ve won six Mysore Derbys,” he said, “but this one is special — deeply personal. I’d lost narrowly on Desert God once, and this felt like closure. This win was for Paddy.”

 

For those who had seen Padmanabhan at work, the victory only reinforced what they already knew — that few could extract such brilliance from limited resources. He had built champions from his own breeding program, often defying odds and patronage alike. His legacy was never about numbers, but about quality, courage, and an almost mystical connection with his horses.

 

On this Derby day, his final masterpiece — Miracle Star — brought that legacy full circle. It was as if the heavens conspired to give him one last victory, one last cheer, one last moment of immortality on the turf he so loved.

 

In the end, the Mysore Derby was more than a race.


It was a miracle — and a goodbye.

 


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