Watch this for me. I did not know that there was film of Devon Loch's belly-flop at the 1956 Grand National. All I had ever seen were grainy snapshots, I assumed, like this.

Which is hilarious enough, I agree, but I had never seen how he ("it,' Devon Loch was a gelding) ended up like that. Skip ahead to 1:26: WTFDevonLoch?

Can you believe that? 

The horse was fifty yards from the finish line, had the race in the bag, and then belly-flopped right in front of the Queen Mum, its owner. 

Do you know nobody knows why Devon Loch did that? Course, Devon Loch never said and there are theories, but it is unexplained. Among the theories: (1) Devon Loch had a heart attack. You know how a person, at least apocryphally, will throw up his hands when the Big One hits? Devon threw up his forelegs in this theory. But, the horse appears fine after the belly-flop! And lived another six years. (2) Cramp in his hindlegs. The sudden pain made him jump in pain? Again, no evidence of a cramp afterwards. (3) A shadow thrown across the track made Devon think there was a jump there. What shadow? That's high-quality Pathe film there. There ain't no shadow! (4) This is jockey Dick Francis' theory: the cheering of the crowd...the cheering..."distracted" Devon Loch. Whatever, man.(5) The horse "fell." Devon Loch (1946 – 1963) was a racehorse, which fell on the final straight while leading the 1956 Grand National. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Devon_Loch. 

Mother-fucker did not fall. That is a fucking JUMP.

Hilarious.

Officially, comically, the incident is known as the Grand National "Disaster." The Brits are renowned for understatement, no? Is there not something quintessentially British about this incident? I have always thought so. Where else would this have happened? Where else has it happened? Nowhere. There will always be an England.