WAGGA - WAGGA GOLD CUP

Presenter: Sophie Grant

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Jack had given me strict instructions before I left.

There’s a pub near the Victory Memorial Gardens that does, in his words, “a very decent parma.”

I’m happy to report he wasn’t exaggerating.

I had an early dinner there my first night and understood immediately why he’d bothered to mention it.

Wagga sits on the Murrumbidgee, in the heart of Wiradjuri country, and even the city’s name carries a story.

For generations Wagga Wagga was commonly translated as “place of many crows,” although more recent work with Wiradjuri language and culture has offered a different interpretation, connecting the name with dance and celebration.

Either way, this is a place with history beneath its feet.

Walking through town, past St Michael’s Cathedral and some of the old civic buildings, you get the sense of a city that’s been quietly important for a very long time, rather than simply somewhere between Sydney and Melbourne.

I wasn’t prepared for quite how much sporting history comes out of this part of the Riverina either.

Steve Mortimer grew up here before becoming one of rugby league’s great halfbacks, while nearby Junee gave Australia Ray Warren, the voice that called so many of the sport’s biggest moments.

There’s a lot of football pedigree packed into this corner of the state.

Then there’s the racecourse.

That surprised me too.

The long home straight gives horses plenty of time to make their run, and you quickly understand why locals talk about their Gold Cup with considerably more than casual enthusiasm.

I came for the Wagga Gold Cup.

But between Jack’s promised parma, the Murrumbidgee and all that sporting history, Wagga turned out to be a much richer stop than I expected.

If you’re planning next year’s Cup trail, don’t treat Wagga as somewhere you pass through.

Give it a proper stop

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THE WAGGA GOLD CUP REPORT
1 May 2026

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A Very Good Horse

 

Finn didn’t even need to open the race book.

“Bianco Vilano.”

Kenny looked at him.

“Again?”

“Again.”

Tommy smiled.

“What’s he paying this time?”

“Twelve dollars.”

Kenny laughed.

“Practically favourite odds compared with Albury.”

Six weeks earlier, they’d watched the local gelding storm home at $41 to win the Albury Gold Cup.

Now Ron Stubbs had brought him to Wagga looking for something special.

The Albury-Wagga Cup double.

This time Jason Lyon was aboard.

Coming into the straight, Bianco Vilano still had horses to catch.

Finn was already standing.

“He’s coming.”

Kenny could see him too.

Right down the centre of the track, Bianco Vilano began to wind up.

Then came that familiar surge.

He gathered them in.

Hit the front.

And powered away.

Bianco Vilano had done it again.

Albury Gold Cup.

Wagga Gold Cup.

Six weeks apart.

Finn turned towards Kenny.

Kenny didn’t wait.

“Don’t say forty-one dollars.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Yes, you were.”

Tommy laughed.

“He was.”

Finn watched Bianco Vilano coming back to scale.

“Good horse.”

Kenny nodded.

This time there was no argument.

“ A very good horse “