The ever-dependable Dyf from Adhirajsingh Jodha’s yard decided to remind everyone that giving away chunks of weight is just his way of keeping things interesting. In a race that had more twists than a conspiracy thriller, Dyf launched into an electrifying final-furlong dash, throwing down the gauntlet to Pyrite and stablemate Duke of Tuscany in a breathless climax to Sunday’s Zavaray S Poonawalla powered Gr 2 C N Wadia Gold Cup – the marquee race wrapping up Mumbai’s racing season on Sunday.

The Zavaray S Poonawalla Racing Carnival – funded with trademark flair by the ever-generous Zavaray himself. Think of it as the Met Gala of the racing calendar, only with more horsepower and fewer red carpets. The weekend’s high-octane contests were served up hot with a side of drama, and the racing gods clearly saved the best for last.

Just when you thought the curtain would fall quietly on the day’s racing, the final act decided to go full Shakespeare meets Bollywood. The final race of the season. A. Sandesh and Trevor Patel, locked in a championship duel tighter than a photo finish at the Grand National.

Going into the last race, Trevor held a slender lead — a single point — over Sandesh, who was saddling up aboard the red-hot favourite The Millennium Force. All he needed? A win. Not a miracle, not a flying unicorn — just a solid ride on a horse who was practically on cruise control.

And deliver he did. Sandesh, in what looked like a ‘thank you for the stats’ gallop, sailed home without breaking a sweat. With that, the scoreboard flashed level — a dead heat in winners between the two gladiators. But as is often the case in racing, when things get tight, we reach for… drumroll… the fine print.

Turns out, while Trevor had slightly fewer wins, Sandesh had been playing the long game — with more second-place finishes tucked neatly under his belt. Yes, in true racing tradition, the title came down to the equivalent of a photo-finish for jockeys. And Sandesh, thanks to his silver medal collection, was crowned the Champion Jockey — by what we can only describe as a nose, if not the decimal point on a calculator.

A fitting finale to a day packed with drama, decisions, and a touch of destiny. Racing, after all, isn’t just about who wins — it’s about how gloriously we argue over who almost did.

Now back to Dyf – this Nanoli Stud Farm-bred six-year-old gelding isn’t just thriving on competition; he’s practically dating it. With 10 wins from 24 starts and only three no-shows, he’s been more consistent than a weather app stuck on “sunny.” On Sunday, he decided to carry not just weight, but the hopes, dreams, and egos of punters who still bet against him.

The race began with Rasputin – yes, the one named after the indestructible Russian mystic – finally deciding to show some urgency. For once, he didn’t need a séance to get moving and led the pack, followed by a cast of hopefuls that included High Command, Golden Kingdom, and the usual suspects. At the 300m mark, High Command lost his command. Pyrite slipped through on the rails like a slick politician during budget season.

Pyrite surged—but lacked speed to kick clear. Duke of Tuscany and Dyf arrived fashionably late to the party, but made sure they weren’t leaving without a trophy. Dyf nosed ahead while Pyrite – who woke up to the occasion just in time to lose – thundered in second. Evaldo, who apparently missed the memo about starting on time, came flying in late to finish a close fourth.

It was class, poise, and a well-timed gallop that prevailed. The handicap may have tried to even things out, but Dyf was having none of it. It was his stage, his show, and the rest were just auditioning for a callback. And his regular partner Trevor Patel was there to ensure that nothing went amiss.

If ever there was a race that could cause collective palpitations at the tote windows, the Gr 3 Maharaja Sir Harisinghji Trophy delivered it in style. A mile-long tug-of-war for four-year-olds and over, this one came down to a finish so tight, you’d think the horses were racing for the last slice of pizza.

Siege Courageous, trained by Prasanna Kumar, didn’t just win — he survived. That’s the only word for it. After snatching the lead in the final furlong like someone who heard the bar was closing, he then rolled inwards just enough to interrupt A Star Is Born’s carefully laid plans for glory.

Enter Once You Black — the dark horse in every sense, who spent most of the race loitering around the rear like a student skipping class, only to show up late and nearly steal the show. Thundering down the wide outside like he’d just remembered it was race day and under an aggressive drive by David Allan, he nearly made a mockery of the whole thing. But no, Siege Courageous, who may or may not have borrowed a lucky horseshoe, held on by a nose — yes, the proverbial kind that racing clichés are made of.

And A Star Is Born? Well, it looked more like A Star Was Slightly Derailed. He too was closing in fast, but found himself trapped in a subplot involving traffic and tactical errors, ultimately finishing just half a length behind — close enough to break hearts but not tickets.

Adding to the theatre, Jockey Yash Narredu lodged an objection against Trevor Patel for the little nudge-fest that occurred when Siege Courageous decided to do some impromptu lane-changing. The Stewards, after what looked like a group in slow motion, politely disagreed. And just like that, the result stood, hearts broke, and Trevor walked off looking like he’d just pulled off a heist.

Earlier in the script, Knotty Charmer did his best impression of a rabbit, leading with all the confidence of a horse that hadn’t read the race conditions. Chased by A Star Is Born with the rest in strategic retreat, the pack seemed content to watch the drama unfold until the final furlong decided otherwise.

In the end, it wasn’t the fastest, the strongest, or even the most convincing horse that won — it was Siege Courageous, who simply refused to lose. Sometimes, that's all it takes.

Call it grit, call it hunger, or call it a man riding like his life depended on it — A. Sandesh wasn’t just chasing the finish line, he was chasing destiny. With the jockeys’ championship dangling just out of reach, Sandesh threw everything — including possibly his breakfast — into his ride aboard the hot favourite Dedication in the 1600-metre Bombay Multi-Million, a terms race for ambitious three-year-olds and their equally ambitious connections.

Trained by Shazaan Shah and sired by Deauville, Dedication lived up to his name in spirit, if not in comfort. The colt was guided through a needle-threading rail run where Sandesh, channelling all the intensity of a man negotiating a loan repayment, surged past Juracan to grab the lead in the final furlong.

Enter Superstar — fashionably late, but closing like a freight train. For a terrifying few seconds, it looked like Sandesh’s dream might get Superstar-ed into oblivion. But then came the finishing post — that beautiful, blessed, immovable object — and it saved the day. Dedication clung on for dear life to win by a nose. Or a whisker. Or maybe just pure willpower.

Juracan had to settle for bronze, probably wondering how it all slipped away while the crowd was busy checking pulse rates.

This victory, combined with Sandesh’s ice-cool handling of Millennium Force in the final race, tipped the scales in his favour and sealed the championship. It wasn’t just a title win — it was a blockbuster climax, scripted with suspense, delivered with flair, and decided by fractions that would make a mathematician weep.

In the end, it wasn’t just Dedication that won the Bombay Multi-Million — it was Sandesh’s own dedication that won him the crown.

In a race where whips were banned but drama certainly wasn’t, Charismatic, the one with all the buzz and none of the speed, managed to disappoint faster than a plot twist in a bad soap opera. Sent off with plenty of cash riding on charisma alone, the hot favourite flopped out of the gates like a badly written sequel, never raising hopes — or his legs.

Meanwhile, Social Butterfly was having none of this nonsense. Drawn wide but flying smooth, David Allan did just about everything short of ordering a cappuccino mid-race. He positioned the Shroff-trained filly perfectly behind pacesetter Rafael, and once they hit the straight, she swanned past like she had a dinner reservation. Victory by over five lengths — and probably still accelerating. All For Love and Tyrannus followed in socially distant second and third, while Charismatic needed a search party and possibly a motivational speaker.

The final race of the season wasn’t just a formality, it was a coronation. After two second-place finishes, one of them heartbreakingly close, Millennium Force decided it was time to stop being polite and start steamrolling the opposition.

With jockey Sandesh already on a high, The Millennium Force delivered a no-nonsense performance in the 1400m Heritage of Mumbai Million. Dodging potential traffic in the final furlong like a Mumbai biker in rush hour, Sandesh gave the son of Air Support the cue — and off he went, cruising home by over six lengths. Medusa did enough to snag second, while You came third (yes, You, not you-you). The win sealed the championship for Sandesh, in what can only be called a fairytale ending — complete with champagne, cheers, and possibly a few grumbles from Trevor Patel’s camp.

In the Ahead Of My Time Million, a 1200-metre sprint for horses rated 40-66, Quicker proved that timing really is everything. Apprentice jockey Bharath Singh played it cool — possibly a bit too cool — before unleashing a lightning late dash that left the front-running Goddess of Dawn gasping.

Trained by Malesh Narredu, Quicker had clearly been saving something special for this one. With The Athabasca rounding off the top three, the finish was a reminder that even in sprints, it’s not about the start — it’s about how dramatically you show up at the end.

The day’s curtain-raiser delivered the sort of result that makes punters cry into their race books and makes trainer Antia smile like a man who just pulled off a heist in broad daylight.

In the 1200m Rapier Million — a race for the battle-hardened warriors of the lowest class — Sussing, ignored by all but a brave few, came alive under Anthony Raj. After stalking Lightning Blaze like a cat stalking a laser pointer, he surged ahead in the final furlong and romped home. Red Merlot closed late to swipe second, leaving Lightning Blaze blinking in disbelief.

Antia, of course, knows how to work magic in this playground division — and this was another feather in a well-worn cap.