The beauty about racing is that however low your spirits, there's always another day, meeting or ride to lift your mood

If ever a man defined himself for eternity in one afternoon it was Lanfranco Oscar Dettori. The day in question was Saturday 28 September 1996, the venue Royal Ascot. The horses were Wall Street, Diffident, Mark of Esteem, Decorated Hero, Fatefully, Lochangel and Fujiyama Crest.

History remembers the event as Frankie’s ‘Magnificent Seven’. Rails bookies like Gary Wiltshire remember it for near-bankruptcy. And lucky punters remember it for the original accumulator odds of 25,095/1, or whatever slice of the action they could get.

Much has been written about Frankie’s unique sporting triumph, the manner in which he squeezed the most out of every ride, the way he triumphed almost instinctively on trips that were less than certain. But to many gamblers, it was what he said afterwards that made him truly legendary: ‘As a serious and frequently skint punter myself in my early days as an apprentice,’ he beamed, ‘I was thrilled to have helped you all clean up... it’s great making dreams happen.’

In an age where sports heroes are increasingly removed from the day-to-day reality of their fans, here was one of the true greats showing not only how he appreciated his public but also how he still felt the buzz of spanking the bookies. In short, he showed he was one of us. So when a dapper Frankie walks into a Ladbroke Grove cafe to meet InsideEdge, sits down and stirs a cappuccino, we pile in straight away. We want to know everything about Frankie the punter.

A chip off the old block

‘Well, my first ever bet was a long time ago,’ smiles Frankie, flicking through the Racing Post, pointing out Godolphin’s only runner of the day, and advising against backing it. ‘I was a little boy, maybe seven years old. My father was a jockey in Italy, of course, so we used to go racing with him. I would get together with friends and do the tierce [a trifecta bet]. We used to have a thousand lire on, which was the equivalent of 30p. We would bet on every single race. It was amazing I could do it, really, because I could hardly reach the counter to put my bet on!

‘I was also the racing reporter on my school paper,’ he adds. ‘I would go and have a flutter with my friends and then write about it afterwards. That was probably the thing I enjoyed most about school! I was always dreaming about horses.’

But was it legal to gamble at the track at the age of seven?

‘Nothing in Italy is illegal!’ laughs Frankie. ‘And it doesn’t even seem that long ago. I don’t even feel like I’m 35, you know. When I look back, it’s incredible. My life has been like a bit of a film... at least those bits I can remember properly!’

He isn’t joking, you know. The three-year-old Frankie Dettori may have dreamed of being a petrol pump attendant, but his gene pool definitely suggested a life less ordinary. His mother was a trapeze artist, his uncle the resident circus clown and his grandfather was nicknamed ‘Super Mario’ for his iron will. Most importantly, his father was taly’s champion jockey, a particularly tunning feat given he didn’t start acing until the advanced age of 20.

Dettori senior passed on a love of acing, but even more importantly an nrelenting passion for success and a uge work ethic. He set up a post in e back garden to show Frankie ow to use a rein with both hands; ankie was barely out of nappies at e time. Then he would disappear r weeks of riding away, and return oodily focusing single-mindedly on e next race. Frankie today jokes that was ‘frightening at times, like ding Alex Ferguson or Roy Keane in ur kitchen one morning.’ Not most ple’s idea of an idyllic childhood, perhaps, but the perfect start for any champion jockey.

By 13, Frankie was out of school and focused entirely on his new career, first with trainer Tonino Verdichio in Italy and then with Luca Cumani at Newmarket. England was a massive culture shock for the young Italian, a foreign land of horrible baked beans, orange squash and a language he could hardly speak. The £366 in his pocket he arrived with didn’t go far. And the weather in Cambridgeshire was foul.

Gentlemen’s club

‘To keep warm in the sub-zero temperatures, my mates spent all afternoon in the betting shop,’ laughs Frankie. ‘I started gambling with the stable lads, and we were too young to drink, so we didn’t really have a choice! We couldn’t go to the pub! I remember many times being skint on the Friday, because I lost my money at the bookmakers. Then I had to work somewhere else over the weekend to get some money to gamble some more. I’d win it all back Saturday, ring the fella I had just started working for and tell him I didn’t need the job any more! It was up one minute and down the next. I was a rascal.

‘Remember, I used to get paid £10 a week or something like that at the time,’ he adds. ‘It was peanuts, anyway. So I used to spend most of the weekend in the bookies on horses, dogs, football, anything. I was completely skint, week-in, week-out. I used to chalk the board to make ends meet. I could hardly reach it.’

He didn’t know it at the time, but the independent Newmarket betting shop he started frequenting was to have a massive influence on his career. Also present in the thick, smoky fug of Cuthie Suttles was high-roller Barney Curley, his future business manager Peter Burrell, agent Shippy Ellis and walking form-book Mattie Cowing.

‘I used to call us “the members”,’ laughs Frankie, ‘because the same people were there every single day. Everybody was always in the same place and it was always full of smoke. Cuthie was a real character, he used to throw the little pens at everyone when he got pissed off that we had inside knowledge. It was brilliant. It was like Eastenders. Today they would make a reality show out of it.

‘The first time I got really lucky as a punter is when I backed Dawn Run in the Cheltenham Gold Cup,’ adds Frankie. ‘But my first really big win was on West Tip, who was set to run in the Grand National. I had decent information on him from trainer George Dunwoody, got 33/1 on it early and every week I’d put a fiver on it, whatever I could afford. I eventually won the best part of £2,000, which when you earn £10 a week is like winning the lottery twice! You know what I mean?

‘When you’re into gambling like that every day and hooked on it, it really is better than sex. It takes you somewhere else, it makes your heart go faster, especially when you gamble on something you can watch – a proper sport – not just a ball landing on a number. A live race is palpitating, and mixed with gambling it’s incredibly powerful.’

Soon Dettori was too busy to be at the bookies every day – and as his career took over, he drifted away from punting. He was Champion Apprentice in 1989 with 75 winners. He was the young superstar of racing. He flirted with the law after being found with cocaine in his pocket. He was kicked out by Cumani, then cleaned up his act after a heart to heart with Barney Curley and landed the job of his life riding in the blue silk of Sheik Mohammed’s Godolphin. Winner after winner followed, year-in, year-out. In 1994 and 1995 he was Champion Jockey. Then came the Magnificent Seven. Dettori was to triumph at everything – except the Epsom Derby, bizarrely. When he rode horses like Lochsong – and particularly Dubai Millennium – many pundits thought racing perfection had been reached.

Inevitably, not every season was going to be good by the insanely high Dettori standards. This year, for instance, he had six Group Ones, two Guineas, the St Leger and a couple of big wins abroad. His searingly honest view of that: ‘Crap to be honest... some people would say that isn’t bad, but I’m like Chelsea going into every game. A draw is a bad result.’

The analogy is a good one – even if Dettori’s success has been around for over a decade longer than Chelsea’s – because Frankie is a huge football fan. In Italy he supports Juventus; in England, Arsenal. He also loves boxing, and bets on both sports.

Gunning for success

‘I love a bit of football, and I love the boxing,’ explains Frankie. ‘I’m an Arsenal fan and this season, we’re a bit behind. Vieira leaving has left a bit of a hole, and it’s been difficult balancing the books because of the new stadium. That’s a shame, but we’re still a lot better than a lot of teams, even if we lack that little big extra for the big games.

‘I’m also looking forward to the World Cup. I’m backing Italy, of course. You know I’m good friends with Michael Owen and I’m delighted he scored a couple of goals against Argentina. I spoke to him yesterday. I said you’re back in the pink again, aren’t you, and he just laughed and said ‘yes, you know what it’s like – up one minute and down the next!

‘I also have a football bet with Alex Ferguson every year,’ he adds. ‘We have a friendly bet about who finishes on top, Arsenal or Manchester United. I got a cheque the first couple of years from him from the Royal Bank of Scotland, but I never cashed them. That probably suited him! Mind you, I lost a few quid when we finished a few times in a row behind them.’

Riding high

Right now, Frankie is focusing on a forthcoming trip to Japan and Hong Kong, then returning to celebrate Christmas in Newmarket with his wife and five children. He enjoys every day as it comes and squeezes the most out of life, particularly since his neardeath experience in 2000’s horrific plane crash at Newmarket.

Frankie also works out every other day to make sure he stays in condition to ride ‘at least another decade’, which is astonishing when you consider he’s already been riding for 18 years. Lester Piggott is his all-time favourite jockey, and you can’t help but wonder if Frankie secretly has the same desire to keep on racing as long as he possibly can.

‘I love it, that’s my motivation,’ he explains. ‘The beauty about racing is that however low your spirits, there’s always another day, meeting or ride that can lift your mood.’

Just like gambling, we suggest.

‘Exactly,’ concludes Frankie, before tipping us to back France under-21s against England, then heading off to the airport [France won].

Strange, you know. We’ve just met one of the greatest sportsmen of all time and it was like meeting a mate down the pub. A true punter.