Nico de Boinville was dropped from the race as favourite and collapsed AGAIN in a repeat of the Cheltenham horror as Lossiemouth won by four lengths at 101-1 for Willie Mullins

In a stunning turn of events that left the Aintree crowd in stunned silence, the Grand National Festival’s opening day delivered one of the most dramatic finishes in recent memory. The William Hill Aintree Hurdle, a Grade One showdown that had promised a clash of titans, instead unfolded into a tale of heartbreak and unlikely triumph. Constitution Hill, the red-hot favorite ridden by Nico de Boinville, repeated his shocking Cheltenham blunder by tumbling at the third-last hurdle, handing the spoils to the longshot Lossiemouth. Trained by the master Willie Mullins and piloted by the unflappable Paul Townend, the filly stormed home by a decisive four lengths at staggering odds of 101-1, etching her name into racing folklore.

The build-up to the race had been electric. Constitution Hill entered as the 1-2 market elect, unbeaten in ten starts prior to his inexplicable Cheltenham departure just weeks earlier. That March afternoon at Prestbury Park had seen the Nicky Henderson star, a horse once hailed as the best hurdler since Istabraq, veer left and crash out at the fifth flight, denying punters and connections alike a coronation. Whispers of jumping gremlins had swirled since, but Henderson’s team dismissed them with rigorous schooling sessions at Seven Barrows. De Boinville, the softly spoken jockey with a reputation for ice-cool finishes, had been adamant: “He’s sharper than ever. That was a one-off.” The Aintree faithful, nursing wounds from Cheltenham’s chaos, poured faith into the duo once more, their roars building as the eight-runner field paraded before the grandstands.

From the off, the race crackled with tension. Townend, aboard the rangy Lossiemouth, set a steady gallop from the stands’ side rail, her long stride eating up the Mildmay course’s testing ground. The Mullins inmate, a Kildare-bred powerhouse who had dazzled in the Mares’ Hurdle at Cheltenham with a gutsy second, was no mug at 101-1. Dismissed by bookmakers after a trio of gritty but unremarkable prep runs— a narrow defeat at Leopardstown and flat efforts at Naas and Fairyhouse— she had flown under the radar. “She’s a warrior who saves her best for the big ones,” Mullins had murmured in the pre-race paddock, his trademark tweed jacket immaculate as ever. At those odds, a smattering of bold punters had sprinkled a few quid for the dream, but few imagined the script flipping so spectacularly.

As the field swung into the back straight, Constitution Hill began to stir. De Boinville, nursing him off the pace behind the leaders, asked for a squeeze turning for home. The big gray responded with his trademark surge, eyes alight and muscles rippling under the silks of owner Michael Buckley. For a heartbeat, it looked like redemption: he loomed large, Lossiemouth a sitting duck in front. But then, horror. Approaching the third-last—a stiff, upright obstacle that has felled lesser souls— Constitution Hill pricked his ears too soon. De Boinville, sensing the shift, tweaked the reins, but it was futile. The horse launched prematurely, clipping the birch with catastrophic force. Legs buckled, momentum shattered; horse and rider somersaulted in a tangle of limbs and turf. De Boinville hit the deck hard, rolling clear as Constitution Hill scrambled to his feet, riderless and bewildered, before galloping loose toward the stands.

The crowd’s gasp was audible, a collective intake that sucked the air from the Merseyside afternoon. Umpire’s cries rang out as stewards monitored the fallen pair, but miraculously, both were up quickly. De Boinville, mud-streaked and dazed, waved away medics with a thumbs-up, his first words to the on-course vet: “He’s fine, but my heart’s in pieces.” Constitution Hill, unscathed but shaken, was corralled by handlers, his coat glistening with the sweat of what might have been. It was a carbon copy of Cheltenham’s nightmare— the same premature takeoff, the same gut-wrenching thud— leaving Henderson to contemplate a pattern that defied logic. “Twice now? It’s like he’s second-guessing himself,” the trainer later confessed, his voice cracking in the winner’s enclosure shadows. “We’ve schooled him blindfolded, over every type of hurdle. Nico had him in the perfect spot; Lossiemouth was there for the taking. This isn’t jumping; it’s a curse.”

With the favorite out, the die was cast. Townend, ever the opportunist, quickened Lossiemouth into the void, her ears pricked and stride lengthening. Behind, Jack Kennedy on the game Wodhooh gave chase, but the filly had the measure. She quickened clear off the final bend, powering up the run-in with the ferocity of a horse scorned by the layers. The line came, and it was emphatic: four lengths to Wodhooh, with the rest strung out. Townend punched the air, a rare crack in his poker face, as Mullins’ team erupted in the unsaddling enclosure. This was no fluke; it capped a flawless Day One for the Closutton maestro, his fourth Grade One of the meeting after earlier triumphs with State Man, Asterion Forlonge, and the juvenile Blood Destiny. “Paul timed it to perfection,” Mullins beamed, clapping his son Patrick’s shoulder— the younger Mullins having notched a treble earlier. “She was boxed in early, but once Nico went, she exploded. At 101-1? That’s racing— the great leveler.”

For de Boinville, the agony was personal. The 34-year-old, who had partnered Constitution Hill to glory in the 2023 Champion Hurdle and a string of Breeders’ Cup bids, trudged back to the weighing room, helmet in hand. Friends like Daryl Jacob, the Grand National victor, rallied around him. “The criticism flying Nico’s way is absolute bull,” Jacob fired later. “He’s one of the best. That horse is a freak who jumps like a stag until he doesn’t. Blame the gods, not the rider.” De Boinville, stoic as ever, offered only: “I felt him quicken too soon. Full of running, perfect position. It just… happened again.” Scans cleared him of injury, but the mental toll lingered. Henderson, ever the optimist, eyed Punchestown’s Mares’ Hurdle in a month’s time as a rematch target. “We’ll crack this,” he vowed. “He’s too good to let hurdles define him.”

Lossiemouth’s fairy-tale surge rewrites her arc. From precocious two-year-old winner to overlooked contender, her Aintree heroics catapult her to Champion Hurdle favoritism at 3-1, eclipsing the absent Constitution Hill. Mullins, now eyeing a record-equaling eighth trainer’s title, savored the irony: “We came for the fight, got the gift. But she earned every inch.” As the sun dipped over Aintree’s pines, the Festival buzzed with what-ifs. Constitution Hill’s double whammy raises questions— is he a fragile genius or a victim of his own brilliance? For now, racing mourns the might-have-been while celebrating the underdog’s roar. In the unpredictable theatre of jumps, no script is sacred, and on this April afternoon, Lossiemouth proved it in spades.