"Great" is one of those superlatives that gets thrown about a lot in both sport and life in general. We tend to use it in an emotional sense without any solid data to back it up. How many times have we blurted out, "What a great goal." when a ball has unexpectedly been smashed into the back of the net? Or turn to a mate and exclaim. "Jesus, will you look at that, what a great set of tits." It's just so hard to know what great actually encompasses. Is Lester Piggott a great, or was he a great? Some will say that he was neither, but I think most fair minded pundits will agree that he was one of the two. Tax fraud aside. That last point in itself will strike him off some people's list. ****tards. Sorry about that. I'm a Lester fan, anybody stuck with that name deserves all the empathy they can get. I remember as a teenager, being impressed by Piggott's visits to Queensland in the late 60s, where he gave a riding lessons to a fields of international jockeys in invitational events. He rode a much loved horse called Prunda, (an indigenous word meaning big fella) in both races. In 1969, Prunda at age 9, was having his last start, race number 119 in the second of his Internationals. He looked beaten a dozen times down the straight, but the long fella just kept drawing that little bit extra from the horse when it was most needed. The best rider in the world carrying a much loved hero over the line in his last race start was the stuff of fairy tales. That wonderful day might not rank as a memorable event in global racing, but for those of us living in Queensland, it was a great day. So maybe Oddy has something here, greatness doesn't necessarily have to be about the likes of Sir Gordon Richards and Lester Piggott, maybe it can be of a more personal nature.