Here, in his own words, is Terry Maclean's story.
The son of a miner, I was born on Friday, September 18th, 1953, in Alfreton, Derbyshire.
The family had no racing background as such, only that my father raced greyhounds and my grandfather (so the story goes) always told me that on leaving school he had a job lined up to work in a racing stable at Newmarket but his father told him that he had a job for him in the mines, and that is where he worked until his retirement.
We moved from Alfreton to Retford, Nottinghamshire in 1960/61 due to a new pit being sunk, and it was a long-term future for the miner.
I attended the Junior School for approximately three years before moving on to Ordsall Comprehensive from 1964 to 1968.
I really enjoyed my time at the last school due to the fact that I got interested in guitar playing - which I still do today - and, together with three mates, formed a band which never actually played anywhere.
We practiced at the drummer's house because he was the only one with a garage we could use.
I was always small and, in my teens, people used to say I would make a good jockey. There were a few others like me but it was never said to them for some reason. I used to say, tongue-in-cheek, that that's what I wanted to do.
I left school at Easter, 1968, without a job and two weeks later there was a vacancy for a stable lad at a small yard in Retford, run by A. W. Bacon.
I walked round to the phone box (not everyone had phones in those days) and rang the number to enquire about the job. I was surprised that one of the first questions they asked was about my weight. Not realising that they would actually let me ride a horse, I guessed at around seven stone. I was told to turn up on Monday morning at 7 a.m. and give it a go.
My starting salary was £3 per week (in notes), rising to £5 after about a year. In a way I was jealous that my mates were earning £8 - £10 a week, but they were also envious that I could ride and actually control one of these mighty beasts!
However, I was young and foolish, and for some reason got a bit disillusioned with all this work and not much play so, in 1970, I left racing.
I then had several jobs - building, factory work, making wire ropes & van driving - until, in 1974, I decided to give working away a go. I tried Jersey - which was unsuccessful - before coming back and getting a lift to London. From there I jumped on a train to Weston-Super-Mare and ended up at Pontins' Brean Sands Holiday Park. I stayed there until early May when I caught another train to Blackpool (via a weekend in Liverpool) and ended up working for the rest of the year at The Pleasure Beach on the Logflume.
I arrived back at Retford in the Nov/Dec of that year and heard that the yard were looking for someone. I enquired, and started back there in January.
I had missed it for sure.
In the NH close season, Mr Bacon asked me if I would like a licence to ride NH/Flat, starting in August, 1975. I couldn't take it in at first, then grabbed it with both hands.
I made my debut on August 4, 1975, in the first 3-y-o hurdle of the season at Market Rasen. I was on a filly called Ruby Mason.
I was pacing around in what seemed to be a trance in the weighing room when in came some jockeys after a race saying that they hoped the faller would be okay and that it looked like he may just have his broken collar-bone.
(Just broken a collar-bone!!!! Jesus - what had I let myself in for!)
I then went for several (unsuccessful) wees, something to do with nerves apparently (stating the obvious, one thinks).
Then it was my turn - I handed the saddle over after weighing out and sat there for what seemed like an age. I thought I heard someone say 'jockeys for the next race', so I went out into the parade ring to meet the owner and trainer. If there was a lot said then I didn't hear it, only that I remember someone saying 'don't jump the high bits'.
I couldn't laugh at the time but I do now.
The race got underway. We hadn't had much schooling between us, yet Ruby Mason was jumping superbly and that passed confidence onto me. I remember looking round as we went away from the stand and didn't see that many of the 18 runners behind me.
We passed some along the back straight then, coming down the hill on the last bend, I had this feeling that everything and everybody appeared to be speeding up. Jumping the second last I was in about fifth or sixth, but, jumping the last, had moved into third.
I began thinking that I might catch the two in front but that was a tad optimistic: we finished in third, both well and truly spent.
The unfortunate and sad outcome of the race was that Ruby broke down afterwards, and to this day I have said that it was my inexperience of not keeping her balanced which may have had something to do with it.
The following season I had another ride at Market Rasen and once again finished third on a three-year-old.
I went on to have more rides both on the Flat and NH (13 in total).
My first hit-the-deck moment was at Catterick on January 1, 1977, aboard Hardy Star. He had never got round in any of his races and never did. He was a great jumper but his legs went on landing.
I looked after Ruby Mason, bringing her along nice and steady, but I said to the trainer that she wasn't quite ready to run again on the Flat just yet.
I was overruled, and Ernie Johnson rode her at Nottingham.
I was very, very sad at that time and, once again disillusioned, left racing for a second and last time.