It’s 8.30 in the morning and after an hour of being shown around Matamata race course by Graham “Richie” Richardson, Brendon McCullum’s racehorse trainer, we turn through the gates of a beautiful property with a field of horses to the right and cows up on the left.
Richardson, a boy and man of Matamata, is one of the best trainers in New Zealand, an eccentric character and a good friend – and nextdoor neighbour – of McCullum. As we pull up to the front door, I scan the neighbouring properties, nosily wondering which belongs to England’s head coach. It doesn’t take long to find out, as standing 10 feet away in his pyjamas in the doorway is a bemused-looking McCullum. He wasn’t expecting me, and I definitely wasn’t expecting him. Richardson has taken me to Baz’s house.
“All right, Baz,” Richardson says. “I’m just showing Cam around.” Classic Richardson, little does he know I’m planning my apology email to the England and Wales Cricket Board as he speaks: “Dear Rob Key, I’m sorry I accidentally doorstepped your head coach’s very remote family home.”
Fortunately, McCullum is far more polite than I’d be if a journalist I vaguely recognised from such classics as, “So what are your thoughts on today then, Brendon?” appeared at my house. He is quick to laugh at the unsuitability of my white trainers to stomp around the farm and lends me a pair of wellies. And so kitted out with McCullum’s wellington boots on my feet and Richardson’s anecdotes in my ears, the tour of Vermair Farm begins.
McCullum loves horses. It’s a passion that began as a child, when his home was a neighbour to the race track in South Dunedin. As he got older, with a bit of money in his pocket, he would place a bet. As he got even older, with even more money in his pocket, he started a business. One which took him to Matamata, the home of horse racing in New Zealand – and next door to Richardson – in 2016.
We talk every day. I train the horses, but Brendon looks after them when he is home
Graham ‘Richie’ Richardson
“I knew nothing about cricket,” says Richardson. “Absolutely nothing. My mate said, ‘I’ll introduce you.’ And I said to Brendon, ‘So what do you do for a living?’ And they started laughing. He was the captain of New Zealand. But we just always got on.”
The pair have been intertwined ever since, with Richardson even meeting his partner through McCullum’s dad. “We talk every day,” says Richardson of his relationship with McCullum. “When it comes to [the] horses, I train them. But his involvement is to look after them when he’s home.”
In short, the two run a syndicate together where they own about a dozen horses. A couple of years ago, they went on an NZ$1.1m spending spree for nine horses. “They’ll say, ‘Who’re you going to buy that for?’” Richie tells me with a laugh. “And I’ll say, ‘I don’t know yet.’”
But between Richardson’s national reputation as a trainer and McCullum’s international reputation as Brendon McCullum, the pair never end up short of interest.
“Brendon’s unique,” says Richardson. “Because he knows an athlete, even with animals.”
Talking with McCullum afterwards, he speaks of the rush and the feeling in the pit in your stomach that you get at the auction when a horse turns round the corner and you just know. “It’s the same as with cricketers,” he says. The pair have been very successful, recording several Group One wins in their time, which is the highest level of racing in New Zealand. All of McCullum’s horses race on the Flat, not over hurdles or fences, with the current great hope of their stable a black filly named Romilly.
“She is one of the most beautiful horses you could ever see,” says Richardson as we pass her. Even to my untrained eyes, he is right.
The pair’s operation is split between the nearby racecourse and McCullum’s home. When the horses are training, they are at the racecourse where Richardson has his stables, and when they’re “spelling”, aka having a horse holiday, they’re with McCullum.
“I would say I’m here every day,” says Richardson, introducing me to the half-dozen or so horses in McCullum’s back garden. “Checking the horses, feeding them. And if I’m not feeding them, Ellissa, Brendon’s wife, is feeding them. In general, they look after the young horses now. And they’re very good at it.”
The place is beautiful. A low cloud means the Kaimai Ranges that overlook the area aren’t visible today, but Richardson points out his own house, which is 100 yards away over the hedge. He has lived on this road for most of his life. “It’s stunning,” he says. “We’re lucky.”
Around the other side of the farm is where the cows are kept and features a small stables for ponies and the like. The neighbour over this side has made a different use of his vast green space. He has a runway.
“Sometimes they fly over your house,” says Richardson. And I bet they do. There’s nowhere else to go.
It is a remarkable location and town. Based in the Waikato region, Matamata is home to just 9,000 people but is the centre of horse racing in the country and internationally renowned.
The Waikato Stud farm, which breeds racehorses, is down the road and world famous, while jockeys from all over the globe arrive to train and race with the best. “We all rely on each other,” says Richardson. “And it’s competition, but we all get on well. Well, most of us get on well.”
After returning my wellies, I thank McCullum for his time and we chat a bit about the farm, the horses and an upcoming auction. Despite his love of horses, McCullum confirms that he has never ridden, and he never will. He loves horses when he’s standing next to them, not sitting on top of them.
On the way out, I meet his dog, who is so big he may as well be the seventh horse on the property. The dog has recently had surgery, but is very keen for a stroke and to say hello nonetheless. I rent a room in a two-bed flat in south London. McCullum and Richardson are welcome any time.
Photograph by Fiona Goodall/Getty Images