Most modern-day followers of racing would never have heard of Lex Nichols, but to an older generation he typified another era, one that for him embodied uncompromising journalism, the lure of the punt, the camaraderie of his fellows and the thrill of seeing his colours out on the track.

I was a teenager of the early 1970s when I first met Lex, and in 1975 we became colleagues when I joined the racing desk on the Auckland Star newspaper and its weekend edition the 8 O’Clock. We remained mates over the next 50-plus years, a friendship that sadly ended last week with his death on the Gold Coast at age 86.

Racing was in its heyday when Lex was an active journalist through the 1960s, ’70s and ’80s – and he embraced it in every way possible. His journalism centred on finding a winner for his readers and when necessary, taking the establishment to task if he found fault that he believed required addressing.

His weekly “Nichols Niggles” column was a must read for those either on his wavelength or seeking enlightenment – plus those who weren’t – as he agitated for change in the sport he cared so much about.

That approach aligned with Lex’s staunch support for racing’s lifeblood, the punter. After all he was one himself and knew only too well the challenges facing that cohort in a time when cash was king with no such luxury as online or fixed odds betting.

I still shake my head at just how fervent he was when it came to the punt. Ahead of any raceday he would have his bets sorted, with the proviso of modifying them if he got late bully from someone whose judgement he valued.

If his first bet ran down the track, he would double the next and continue to do so until one of them got home. “I’ve got such-and-such anchored in this,” he would confide just before the jump. “If it gets up I’ve paid the mortgage for the next year.”

Sometimes they did get up and sometimes they didn’t, yet through it all Lex remained stubbornly optimistic. There were days when nothing much went right and as resolute as ever, he would make repeat visits to the secretary’s office to cash another cheque.

When luck was with him, however, he was only too happy to share his good fortune, such as the day I recall at Avondale when his horse Laughing Boy won with the money on. Even though he wasn’t what you’d describe as a “drinker”, he ordered a box of decent bubbly sent up to the press room to shout for his colleagues.

Lex wasn’t backward in coming forward to highlight where racing in his mind was going wrong. Alongside his journalism, he became a pioneer as a television panelist, along with colleague Mike Dillon fronting a Sunday show that analysed the previous day’s racing, and not missing the opportunity to critique where he felt necessary.

Over more than 50 years his racing team numbered at least dozens and more likely into triple figures. An early notable was Big Bickies, a stablemate of Laughing Boy trained by long-time mate in the ranks, then Cambridge-based Alan Jones.

His wife, Hall of Fame female jockey pioneer Linda Jones, rode Big Bickies to the first win of her all-too-short career against male jockeys at Te Rapa in August 1978. Two months later at Ellerslie she became the first of her gender to score a double, and Big Bickies was the horse that completed the brace.

“Lex was a wonderful friend to Alan and me over many years,” says Linda Jones. “He wasn’t afraid to put his money where his mouth was, not just with all the horses he owned but with his support of lady riders from day one, and I’ll always be grateful for the part he played in my career.

“He was a very generous person too, always ready to help anyone who might be going through hard times, and he did so without expecting anything in return. He was just a good guy.”

The red and white Nichols colours were carried to countless wins through the decades both in New Zealand and across the Tasman. Lex had walked away from journalism while still in his 40s when some astute property dealing enabled him and his wife Sharon, along with their integrated family of four, to enjoy a lifestyle that included memorable worldwide travels.

By this time he was living on the Gold Coast, continuing to indulge his core passion of racing, and by the 1990s that had flowed down to his daughter Sheridan, who he encouraged to take out her trainer’s licence. They were proud times indeed for the father-daughter combination with a number of wins on the south-east Queensland circuit.

One of Lex’s ambitions was to have a horse with a competitive chance in the Great Northern Steeplechase, a race for which he would make an annual pilgrimage back to Ellerslie. Matamata couple Peter and Jess Brosnan had a likely sort for him in Old Countess, who won the 2019 and 2020 editions of the Wanganui Steeplechase and finished fifth and sixth in two attempts at the Great Northern. However the closure of jumps racing at Ellerslie brought an end to her owner’s dream result.

Lex’s most recent trainer has been the Caloundra-based Louise White, who made the best of her opportunities with the likes of Irish Songs, Kind Wish (originally trained by the Brosnans) and Joy’s Reward. Irish Songs proved to be one of his most astute purchases through an online auction site in late 2022.

The Shamus Award gelding was already a stakes-winning sprinter in New South Wales but at seven years old with a row of duck eggs beside his name, the decision was made by his original connections to move him on. Lex was already well aware of the horse when he came up for sale and as he was to recall later, he willingly parted with A$30,000 to secure him.

That turned out to be a bargain, as within months Irish Songs had been backed in from 100-to-one to 40-to-one for his first win in the red and white colours at Doomben. Later in that campaign he scored a home-track victory in the Sunshine Coast’s richest sprint, the A$300,000 Glasshouse Handicap (at a juicy 30-to-one), and two starts later added the A$160,000 Tatts Members’ Cup at Eagle Farm.

All the while Lex delighted in keeping his widespread email data-base up with the play, suggesting with typical dry wit and analytics whether Irish Songs or others in his string would be good or not-so-good value. Time was called on Irish Song’s career in April, the nine-year-old having added more than half a million dollars to his bankroll with a total of six wins in the red and white.

 Lex also brought matter-of-fact detail to his regular health updates, and despite the increasingly confronting challenges of his cancer-ridden body, the emails continued up until just weeks ago.

“He was incredible, virtually right to the end he remained the same, keeping his bravado and strength so he could still enjoy family and friends,” says his beloved wife Sharon. “Lex was such a people person, so caring and full of wonderful stories – and the best part was the stories were all true!”