Obituary: John Seaton

By MICHAEL GUERIN

For somebody who made a habit out of winning, John Seaton was remarkably good at losing.

He never enjoyed it. He just enjoyed life so much he never let it bother him.

When Seaton's horses ruled the harness racing world, which was often, he was a dangerous man to be around.

His giant mitts would crush smaller palms during congratulatory handshakes, his quick wit accompanied with a playful poke in the ribs or slap on the back.

And the victory drinks would flow.

But when big John's horses lost, well, it was pretty much exactly the same.

In fact, he might have even drunk more.

John Seaton loved winning but he hated poor losers.

He knew when he got into racing he would lose more than he won so he decided to enjoy them the same.

"That was the amazing thing about him," said trainer and close friend Mark Purdon. "When you consider all the millions he spent on harness racing he was a great loser.

"He had all those champion horses but he also had some huge setbacks. We lost some good horses, while others lost races they should have won.

"But John was always the same. Even when I got a bit down he was always the positive one. That is one reason I can't fathom what has happened."

Of course Seaton didn't actually have much choice but to be positive. When you start at the bottom there is only one way to go.

He started as a truck driver in North Canterbury, working longer hours than were legal. But he needed the money and sleep had to come second because Howard John Seaton always had an eye for property. And a great deal.

He started small, but his work ethic and cunning soon saw his days in the truck cab gone forever.

A favourite trick was to buy the last block of a divided section of land, believing that once all the sections had been sold those who regretted missing out would pay more.

"I remember John buying one section and selling it for a 35 per cent profit a few months later," said trainer Colin De Filippi yesterday.

"He loved it. He loved the dealing and being good at what he did. And he was bloody good at it."

Property gave Seaton the money to invest in sheep. He was soon pretty good at it and at one stage he was contracted to provide the Islington freezing works with 3500 sheep a week.

That meant being the biggest, and most ruthless, buyer at the southern sales - and Seaton was ruthless.

"Sometimes I'd go along with John and he would get me to bid for him," remembers De Filippi.

"He would wait and wait and if the price was $38 John would want to pay $37.50.

"But he was a big buyer and knew his stuff so he got what he wanted. He was ruthless and I think he enjoyed the sport of it all."

With his eye for stock, love of a good auction and a personal fortune that was to reach $37 million, racing was made for Seaton.

He liked thoroughbreds but felt more at home with harness racing people and their down-home attitudes. They sat easily with a former truck driver from North Canterbury.

His first horses were trained by his lifelong friend Malcolm Shinn, himself a natural dealmaker.

They raced some horses and sold others. In between times they got into the odd scrap in Canterbury country pubs, mainly harmless stuff.

It was almost like Seaton didn't want to get too far from his roots, wanted to keep his diamond rough. He was as successful at that as everything else.

While he was always lucky as a racehorse owner, Seaton became the industry's Donald Trump only when he met Mark Purdon in 1991.

The pair were chalk and cheese, like a giant bear who befriended a squirrel. But together they were racing dynamite.

Their first horse together, Il Vicolo, won two New Zealand Cups, three Derbys and $1.58 million in stakes.

He launched Purdon's solo training career and harness racing's new glamour boys were unstoppable.

A production line of superstars followed - Jack Cade, Light And Sound, Lennon, Advance Attack - too many to list.

After years of fighting for everything he got Seaton turned sales yard bully. He was never the first to bid but usually the last.

In the last 10 years he would have spent millions on horses, and not a lot less on training fees, vet bills and stables.

Then there was the money he gave to race clubs.

As he got older he became almost a statesman of harness racing, looked up to by most.

That image disappeared on Friday when he confronted several HRNZ officials with his disgust at being charged with offences related to Blue Magic.

One of them asked Seaton why he was clenching his fists at his side. The answer was pure Seaton.

"Because they hit harder when they are clenched," he said.

Of course it was bravado because Seaton's fighting days were long behind him.

There were only two ways somebody could have got the big fists flying these days. And that would be upsetting the loves of his life, his wife Anne or daughter Ann-Marie.

Racing, property and sheep dealing may have been his passion but his family was his only true love. That never changed.

What John Seaton did in his life, and particularly racing, will not be forgotten.

For those lucky enough to have known him well it is achingly sad that a man who gave us so many winners has himself been one of our greatest losses.