I was ready to witness history being made but Johannes hadn't read the script

There is no sweeter sentence than "I was there". You automatically earn admiration in any argument when you produce those three simple words.

Did you see Paul Carberry still sitting motionless on Harchibald with 100 yards to go in the 2005 Champion Hurdle? I was there. Did you see Sprinter Sacre win his first Champion Chase? I was there. And his second? I was there. How about when Fantastic Light edged out Galileo in that epic Irish Champion Stakes back in 2001? I was there. I was only 15, but I was there.

So were many, many others, though. This was different. This was my greatest ever chance to gain gloating ammunition. There can't be too many Irishmen or women who were there when Aidan O'Brien became a world record holder, over 17,000 kilometres away from home.

This was Caulfield. This was going to be the first Irish horse to win the Caulfield Cup. This was when O'Brien joined Bobby Frankel on 25 top-level winners in a calendar year. This was a day that was going to live long in the history books. Maybe forever. And, I was there.

But there was one small snag. Johannes Vermeer had to win the race. Only a minor detail and, when you see the way he surged home in the Ladbrokes Stakes last Saturday, it was almost a given.

How far would he have won by seven days ago if the race was over 2,400 metres and not 2,000 metres. Three lengths? Maybe four? He had stall two this time too. All the ducks were in a row.

There was even an Irish winner on the undercard. Johnny Allen rides his rivals to sleep in the Group 3 Ladbrokes Classic on Cliff's Edge. He's made a real name for himself down here and the Aussies adore him. You can see why with rides like this from the front.

"He was a little fired up last time but he really switched off going up the hill today. He has a real high cruising speed and when he gave a little kick at the 600m pole, it was going to be hard to run him down," Allen says afterwards.

The celebrations are almost as good as the ride. Warren Moore, the man in charge of ensuring owners have a blast, kindly invites me to savour the atmosphere of the winner's lounge after a race.

Champagne flowing, beers on ice, fancy sandwiches, mini desserts – no wonder winners feel so good. Moore needs a lot of food and drink to feed and water the winning connections of Cliff's Edge. There are hundreds of them and they make a right racket when the replay of the race was shown.

I wonder whether I can sneak back in after Johannes Vermeer wins the Caulfield Cup.

The tension is tangible before the big race. TJ Comerford, O'Brien's travelling head lad, puts the finishing touches to the strapping son of Galileo, while David Casey settles Wicklow Brave. These boys know what they are doing.

Tom Pirie, captain of the Hughie Morrison team, is his usually chirpy self as he leads out Marmelo into the parade. His big day is not until next month. He has Melbourne Cup written all over him and today is a warm-up mission over an inadequate trip.

Johannes Vermeer had his warm-up last week. This is his cup final.

The barriers open and Ben Melham finds himself further back than ideal on Johannes Vermeer. Not to worry, he came from the clouds last week so no need to panic.

"They're going a million up front," says Comerford, who finds himself positioned beside me for the race. "He's grand now. He's settled."

The final bend at Caulfield is like the M50 roundabout in Dublin of a wet Wednesday morning at 7.30am. Carnage.

Johannes Vermeer travels strongly into it, but space is at a premium. He tries to switch out, then in, but by the time he gathers a head of steam Boom Time had flown. He flies home to take third but the history-making has to wait.

Winning trainer David Hayes with Boom TimeCredit: Vince Caligiuri

I was there for Caulfield Cup day 2017. I was there to sample the awesome atmosphere. I was there to enjoy the occasion. I was there to see history almost being made. It did not happen, but at least I can tell people I was there.

Perhaps I will be there to witness the mighty Marmelo become the first British-trained winner of the Melbourne Cup.

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