The Efficient Quince

Devon Quince dusts off his top and tails and goes racing with Melbourne Cup winning owner, Lloyd Williams.

Most people will tell you, Devon Quince is a man of style and charm. A party boy from way back who loves to dress to the nines and drink till well after. So when the Spring Racing Carnival roles around each year I put on my shiniest shoes for some serious tent hopping (and generally pass out with a bunch of year 12 students in the car park).

Whilst I love to dress up in a variety of fresh fashions I’m not like these fashions on the field tragics in orange shoes and pudding bowls for hats. I've been going to the Cup for thirty years, and on that day of races I'm a traditionalist. Hat, tails and gleaming slippers (although getting Miles my boot polisher to meet me at Flinders street station at 2 in the morning on Cup Eve was a stretch). And so, it was in this garb I rolled out of a cab accompanied by a bunch of beer cans at Lloyd Williams' house to speak to the man whose horse, Efficient, had that afternoon won the Melbourne Cup.

Devon Quince: Ahh, Lloyd…

Lloyd Williams: Devon…

DQ: You must thank your wife for the coffee. I mustn't have been making much sense when I walked in…

LW: You crawled in.

DQ: I see. Well I do apologise…

LW: My son Nick had to drag you in to be honest.

DQ: Yes. Falling asleep on doorsteps is not something I'm proud of, but something I do nonetheless.

LW: Well, you've caught me on a good day- I just won the Cup- so let’s forget it.

DQ: A good day indeed. Now I must admit I didn't know you were a jockey…

LW: You wouldn't. I'm not a jockey.

DQ: But winning the Melbourne Cup then…?

LW: I owned the horse, Devon.

DQ: Right, right, right. Of course. Yes. And you weren't at the race were you…

LW: That's right, I decided to stay home to watch the race.

DQ: Now why was that? I didn't even have a horse racing and I was there. What are you some kind of shut-in?

LW: Ahhh, no. I just preferred to avoid the crowds this year. I've been to enough cups in my time.

DQ: So you say. How do you enjoy yourself? It’s not the same getting shitfaced on the couch with your wife.

LW: Not everyone feels they have to get sh…

DQ: Where is you wife by the way? Could you get her to get me another coffee? Oh, and make it an Irish this time.

LW: No, I think you've had enough coffee. I think it's time you left Devon.

DQ: So what about a job for me at Lloyd Williams Racing? I'd be happy to sleep with the stable boy…

LW: I'm sure you would…

DQ: OK, OK. Just ahh...let me ask…one more question…

LW: OK…

DQ: Hang on, hang on. I know I've got it written here somewhere…ahhh….

LW: Come on Mr. Quince.

DQ: Ahhh. Yes, got it. Here we are.

LW: Right. What is it?

DQ: OK. How does it feel to have ridden the Melbourne Cup winner?

As the door closed in my face I could tell he was a happy man- if rather heavy set for a jockey. I had a hell of a time getting a cab as I'd lost my phone at the races when I fell into one of the flowerbeds. But on Cup day there is a brotherhood between drunken racegoers stumbling through the streets, and taxi of young men took pity on me- sure they did a runner and left me with an pretty angry Iranian cabbie, but at least I made it home (which is more than you can say for some).