The race that stops a nation!

The Melbourne Cup is known in Australia as "The Race that stops a nation." It is the biggest horse race of the Australian Spring Racing carnival and draws the best horses world wide to compete in the prestigious event.

For many Australians, myself included "Cup Day" is the only day of the year when we ever gamble on horse racing.

For days beforehand, the whole country is abuzz with chatter about who will win, who you will "Back" and  what you will wear if you're going to the race course or to a "Cup Luncheon."

Traditonally,  the race is run at Flemington in Melbourne. If you are in Melbourne on the day, you try to be at the Flemington Race Course for the event.

On the day, schools, universities, offices, even hospitals are tuned in to the racing coverage from the crack of dawn and people run 'sweeps' where you put money into a pool and everyone draws a horse out of a hat and whoever draws the one of the first three receives a share of the prize pool.

As the hour of the race draws near, no matter where you are, you can feel the tension mounting in the air as people begin to anticipate the race.

When the horses are paraded, lined up at the start and the barrier stalls closed the entire country grinds to a halt as all eyes are glued to the TV, all ears that are not near a TV are listening to the radio and 22million people hold their breath.

The starter mounts the stand, the red light begins to flash the stalls fly open, the horses surge into the race, the commentator shouts they're off and racing in the Melbourne Cup...and across the nation an exultant roar bursts from the throat of every punter.

A hush decsends now, while the horses and jockey's get settled on the pace, jockeys try to put their ride in the best position in the field. One horse will invariably become the pace setter, leading the field from the jump over the 3200m course.

Viewers at the field and at home clutch their precious betting tickets and whisper encouragement, but no one dares speak aloud as they thunder down the straight and onto the course proper.

Hearts are starting to beat a little faster now, as everyone listens to the caller name each horse in the running order, trying to decide if their fancy has a good spot or not. No one takes his eyes off the field. You hardly dare to breathe.

about the 1600m mark the pace starts to pick up and the hush of the crowd turns to a murmur, soft urgings of 'c'mon, c'mon, giddup!" can be heard and fingers tighten on those tickets.

As they hit the home straight it's on for young and old, whips start to crack, the gentle murmurs turn to full throated cheers as the front runner is now picked up by one or two others and the battle for the cup begins.

A shout goes up as a roughy from the back end dashes out from behind a rank of runners and makes a brave sprint for the finish. The race commentary is drowned out by the roar of the crowd; across Australia, in every office, school and residence, someone is cheering their fancy home.

With a roar from the crowd, the horses hit the finish and the unlucky tickets fly into the air, dancing and spinning down like the ragged confetti of a million shattered dreams.

The horses come back to the saddling enclosure, the punters go to collect their winnings or buy a beer to drown their sorrows and it's all over bar the shouting until the first Tuesday of next November.

And that, is the Melbourne Cup.