Not often that I care that much about something in the horse-racing world, but Best Mate, three-times winner of the Cheltenham Gold Cup, collapsed and died yesterday after a race at Exeter. Somehow he epitomised all of that equine nobility, at the same time as having a unique relationship with the weird humans who put him in lorries to strange places, then made him bolt along big stretches of grass, with loud noises and cheers on all sides. There were some wonderful pieces of footage showing him playing to the crowd, and enjoying himself in the moment. These are rare moments of connection between the Animal Kingdom, still relatively simple, and our own complicated world. So long Best Mate, gone to the great racecourse in the sky.