Mark Tompkins: the game's bonkers . . . but I'd have carried on with a big owner

Mark Tompkins has worked too hard, is too proud to demur, when asked to assess whether he has punched above his weight. The man who retired from training last week responds with a broad smile.

“Oh yeah,” he says. “Course I have. I started 40 years ago in Newmarket with nothing. We’ve had some fantastic horses, jockeys and staff through the yard and enjoyed every minute. Never feel like I’ve done a day’s work in my life.”

Up to a point, it’s a fair summation from the grandson of a private-school headmaster who was brought up on the moors between Sheffield and Manchester. But it is probably the only time in his life he inclines towards understatement.