Shinzan: Japan’s First Postwar Triple Crown and the Five-Crown Legend

In 1964, while Japan was celebrating the Tokyo Olympics and the opening of the Tokaido Shinkansen, another national hero emerged far from the stadiums and train platforms. He ran not on cinders or tracks, but on turf and dirt. His name was Shinzan.

He became the second Triple Crown winner in Japanese history, and the first to achieve it in the postwar era. One year later, he added the Tenno Sho (Autumn) and the Arima Kinen to his record, giving him victories in five of the most important “major races” of his time – what later came to be grouped under the idea of the “Eight Major Races” (before modern G1 status was introduced). By the time he retired, he had started 19 times, won 15, finished second 4 times, and never finished worse than second, every race run in central Japanese racing under the JRA.

For Japanese racing fans, the phrase “Shinzan o koero” – “Surpass Shinzan” – became a kind of mantra, a benchmark for greatness that seemed almost impossible to reach. This is the story of the horse behind that legend.

Postwar Japan and the Meaning of a Triple Crown

The first horse to win the Japanese Triple Crown – the Satsuki Sho, Tokyo Yushun (Japanese Derby), and Kikuka Sho – was St. Lite (Sentoraito) in 1941, in the middle of the war. For more than two decades after that, no other horse could repeat the feat.

After World War II, Japanese racing rebuilt alongside the country itself. By the early 1960s, racing had become a popular national pastime again, with full stands and heavy betting. But there was still no postwar Triple Crown winner. That empty space in the record books made the achievement feel almost mythical.

In 1964, the same year that Japan showed its renewed vitality to the world at the Tokyo Olympics, Shinzan stepped into that space and claimed it. His Triple Crown was more than just a sporting milestone – it was a symbol of revival, stability, and the country’s growing confidence.

The Colt Who Never Missed the Exacta

Shinzan was foaled on 2 April 1961. He was a homebred colt, born and raised in Japan, and he would spend his entire racing career in central (JRA) racing – no local dirt tracks, no overseas adventures. Every one of his 19 starts took place on the big stage.

From his debut onward, one thing about him never changed: he always finished in the first two. When the opposition was weaker, he dominated. When the opposition was stronger, he simply dug deeper.

By early 1964, it was clear that he was one of the standout colts of his generation, but few could have predicted just how far he would go.

1964: The Triple Crown Campaign

Satsuki Sho – The First Crown

The first leg of the Japanese Triple Crown is the Satsuki Sho, often compared to the 2,000 Guineas in England. In 1964, due to renovation work at Nakayama Racecourse, the race was held at Tokyo Racecourse instead.

On a rainy day, Shinzan was sent off as the favorite. He broke well, then settled in mid-pack, waiting for the right moment. Turning for home, his jockey, Masaru Kurita, angled him out and asked for more. Shinzan responded with his now-familiar surge, lengthening his stride and pulling away.

He hit the line three-quarters of a length in front. The margin may not sound huge, but the impression he gave was one of total control. The first crown was his.

Tokyo Yushun (Japanese Derby) – A Derby for the Ages

The Tokyo Yushun – the Japanese Derby – is the race every owner and trainer dreams of. It is also the most intense test of class and temperament for a three-year-old in Japan.

Shinzan went into the 1964 Derby under a small cloud: in a tune-up open-class race before the big day, he had suffered the first defeat of his career, finishing second. Even so, by Derby day, confidence around him had returned.

The race drew a huge field of 27 runners. Among them was his talented rival Umeno Chikara, who would play a key role in Shinzan’s story. Shinzan broke cleanly and took a position in mid-division, conserving his energy as they went around the first turn.

Down the backstretch, the tempo increased. Around the third corner, Kurita gradually moved Shinzan closer to the front, and by the time they straightened up for the long Tokyo stretch, he was already looming large.

At the top of the stretch, Shinzan struck the front. For a brief moment it looked like a straightforward coronation. Then, from the inside, Umeno Chikara launched a fierce challenge.

With around 200 meters to go, Umeno Chikara actually poked his head – almost a length – in front. The crowd gasped. For the first time in his life, Shinzan looked beaten.

Kurita, however, was not panicked. He switched his whip to the left and asked for one last effort. Shinzan responded in the way that only the very best can. He lengthened again, drew level with Umeno Chikara, and then, stride by stride, forced him backwards.

At the finish, Shinzan was 1¼ lengths clear. The winning time was just shy of the race record, but no one cared. What they had seen was a champion refuse to yield.

Later, Kurita reportedly said that if he had lost, he would have blamed only himself: Shinzan had given everything he asked for. Umeno Chikara’s jockey, Takeo Ito, admitted that he had given his horse an ideal ride, and still could not beat Shinzan. That was how good the Derby winner was.

A Summer of Struggle

After the Derby, the road to the third jewel of the Triple Crown was not smooth.

Under normal circumstances, a Triple Crown candidate might spend the summer in Hokkaido, enjoying cool air and fresh grass. Shinzan stayed in training instead – and 1964 turned out to be an unusually hot summer.

The colt suffered from the heat. He lost his appetite, his coat lost its bloom, and he struggled to maintain his condition. To avoid going straight into the Kikuka Sho (Japanese St. Leger) without a prep race, the stable ran him in an open-class event that autumn. There, he was beaten a neck by a horse named Ichimikado. A second defeat followed in the Kyoto Hai, where the front-running Barimosu Nisei managed to hold him off.

Three losses now blemished his record. The public began to wonder: had the summer taken too much out of him? Was the Triple Crown slipping away?

Trainer Bungo Takeda and his team worked patiently. As the worst of the heat passed and the air cooled, Shinzan slowly came back to himself. By the time the Kikuka Sho approached, the feeling around the stable had changed: the real Shinzan was returning.

Kikuka Sho – Completing the Triple Crown

The Kikuka Sho at Kyoto Racecourse, run over 3,000 meters, is the Japanese equivalent of the St. Leger – a long, stamina-testing race that can expose any weakness.

In the betting, it was not the one-horse race some expected. Umeno Chikara, coming off a strong win in the St. Lite Kinen, went off as the narrow favorite at 2.9 to 1, while Shinzan was the second choice at 3.2 to 1. The two colts stood side by side in the starting gate, with history waiting beyond.

When the gates opened, another major player immediately changed the shape of the race: Kane Keyaki, a filly who had already won both the Oka Sho (Japanese 1000 Guineas) and Yushun Himba (Japanese Oaks), shot to the front and opened up a huge lead.

Down the backstretch the second time, the gap between Kane Keyaki and the main pack – where Shinzan and Umeno Chikara were running close together – ballooned to over 20 lengths. For a moment, the crowd wondered if they were witnessing a bold all-the-way upset by a Classic-winning filly.

But three thousand meters is a long way. On the far turn, Kane Keyaki’s stride began to shorten. The main group, led by Umeno Chikara, started to reel her in.

Umeno Chikara was the first to move, launching his run from behind Shinzan. He drew closer to the weakening leader, and for a moment the race looked like it might become his vindication after two near-misses in the spring.

Then Kurita asked Shinzan to go.

From just behind his old rival, Shinzan swung out and unleashed a powerful, sustained drive. He collared Umeno Chikara, went past, and then kept going – not just to win, but to dominate. Umeno Chikara had poured everything into that one, perfectly timed move, and it still was not enough.

Shinzan crossed the line alone, completing the Triple Crown: Satsuki Sho, Tokyo Yushun, and Kikuka Sho. It had been 23 years since St. Lite, and this time the Triple Crown belonged to postwar Japan.

That autumn, while the world looked back on the Tokyo Olympics as a symbol of Japan’s rebirth, racing fans had their own symbol – a dark bay colt whose courage and consistency felt, in their way, just as inspiring.

Many expected him to go straight on to the Arima Kinen that year, but Takeda chose rest over greed. The Triple Crown was enough. Shinzan’s 1964 season ended on its highest possible note.

1965: From Triple Crown Hero to “Five-Crown” Legend

Modern Japanese racing uses the G1 label to describe its highest-level races. In Shinzan’s time, that system did not yet exist. Instead, people spoke of the most prestigious long-distance and championship races as the “Eight Major Races” – the top targets for the very best horses.

By the end of 1965, Shinzan would have won five of those major races: the three Classics (Satsuki Sho, Tokyo Yushun, Kikuka Sho), the Tenno Sho (Autumn), and the Arima Kinen. That is why he was celebrated as Japan’s first “five-crown” horse – not five G1 races in the modern sense, but five wins among the era’s top eight major events.

Spring Setback and the Takarazuka Kinen

The original plan for Shinzan’s four-year-old season (modern five-year-old) was to aim at the spring Tenno Sho, a grueling 3,200-meter race.

But preparation did not go smoothly. Shinzan developed inflammation in a hoof and had trouble eating, which meant he could not work as he normally did. Takeda weighed the options and made a pragmatic decision:

“The chance to try for the Triple Crown comes only once in a lifetime. The Tenno Sho will always be there – in the autumn if not in spring.”

So they skipped that spring Tenno Sho, instead choosing the newly established Takarazuka Kinen (Hanshin, 2,000 m) as their main target for the first half of the year.

After about six months off, Shinzan returned in an open-class race at Hanshin on May 29. He won it without drama, then came back two weeks later to win another open race, sharpening his edge.

In the Takarazuka Kinen itself, fan voting determined the runners, and Shinzan was the overwhelming choice. The only real unknown was the going: the track was officially “heavy,” the worst ground he had ever faced.

Once again, class spoke louder than conditions. Settled in a stalking position, Shinzan moved up smoothly in the final turn and, despite the deep ground, wore down the front-runner Barimosu Nisei to win by half a length.

The race was not yet counted among the formal “Eight Major Races,” but it was already a major prize, with a first prize of several million yen (worth many tens of millions of yen in today’s money). With that victory, Shinzan had successfully announced his arrival as a dominant older horse as well.

Tenno Sho (Autumn) – The Fourth Crown

After a short summer break, Shinzan returned in an open race at Kyoto in early October, winning it as expected. A planned prep at Tokyo before the Tenno Sho was abandoned when equine influenza disrupted the schedule and limited horse transport, so the stable improvised: they sent him to the Meguro Kinen, a handicap over 2,500 meters.

The handicapper was ruthless. Shinzan was assigned a crushing 63 kg on his back, far more than most of his rivals. Still, he fought off a strong challenge from the talented Blutora Kasho and won by half a length. The message was clear: even under top weight, he remained the horse to beat.

The Tenno Sho (Autumn) that year was run over 3,200 meters at Tokyo – a true test of stamina. Shinzan went to post as the overwhelming favorite, his win odds listed at 1.0 to 1, the shortest possible official price.

His main rival on paper was the American-bred Haku Zuiko, who came into the race with 10 wins and 1 second from 11 starts. But when the gates opened, the race unfolded in a way that played perfectly to Shinzan’s strengths.

A horse named Miharukasu tore away to set a strong pace. Shinzan, Haku Zuiko, and another notable runner, Blutora Kasho, tracked behind, keeping the leader within range but not engaging too early.

In the long Tokyo stretch, Haku Zuiko loomed, and for a few strides the two seemed headed for a heads-up duel. But when Kurita finally asked Shinzan for his finishing kick, the answer was decisive.

Shinzan surged clear to win by two lengths, collecting what we might call his “fourth crown”: a major championship beyond the three Classic races. At this point, his place among the all-time greats was no longer a matter of debate.

Arima Kinen 1965 – The Fifth Crown and the Vanishing Horse

Only one great target remained: the Arima Kinen, the year-end “Grand Prix” at Nakayama over 2,500 meters, in which the field is selected largely by fan voting.

On December 26, 1965, Nakayama Racecourse was cold and bleak, with low winter clouds. Earlier rain had left the ground officially “slightly soft,” but in reality it was heavy and badly chewed up.

As the gates opened, Miharukasu – who had helped set the pace in the Tenno Sho – shot to the front again. This time he was ridden by jockey Kazuo Kaga, who had a clear plan: use a bold front-running strategy and then try to disrupt Shinzan’s run in the stretch.

Shinzan, now partnered for the first time in this race by Yoshito Matsumoto, settled in third, watching the leader from a comfortable distance.

Off the final bend, Kaga steered Miharukasu wide, trying to force Shinzan into the worst of the inner ground – the deep, churned-up turf near the rail. The idea was to “box him in” on bad footing, dull his acceleration, and steal the race that way.

Matsumoto, however, refused to be trapped. Instead of diving inside, he sent Shinzan even wider – almost to the outer rail. For a moment, from some seats in the grandstand and even on the television screen, Shinzan quite literally disappeared from view.

Radio commentary from the day famously captured the confusion: the announcer, unable to see Shinzan for a few seconds, cried out that “Shinzan has vanished!”

Then, out by the outer fence, the dark bay colt reappeared – thundering down the extreme outside, where the turf was less damaged. He surged past Miharukasu and the rest, powering clear to win the Arima Kinen in majestic style.

With that victory, Shinzan had done what no horse before him had accomplished: he had won the three Classics, the Tenno Sho, and the Arima Kinen – five of the era’s most prestigious major races. He was the first true “five-crown” champion in Japanese racing history.

It was also his farewell. Shinzan retired after the Arima Kinen, leaving the track with an almost unblemished record: 19 starts, 15 wins, 4 seconds, and never out of the exacta.

Stallion Career: Passing the Torch

After retirement, Shinzan stood at stud in Japan and enjoyed a highly respectable stallion career, especially considering that he was a domestically bred horse in an era when imported bloodlines were often favored.

He sired numerous winners, including several who themselves became important racehorses and stallions. Among his most famous offspring were:

• Minagawa Manna – winner of the Kikuka Sho (Japanese St. Leger) in 1974.
• Miho Shinzan – a major star of the mid-1980s, who won the Satsuki Sho and Kikuka Sho in 1986 and then the Tenno Sho (Spring) in 1987.

Miho Shinzan’s success in particular felt like a mirror of his sire’s achievements – another two Classic wins and a Tenno Sho, a kind of “echo” of the five-crown legend.

By the time Shinzan’s stallion career ended in 1987 (with his registration formally removed the following year), his progeny had won dozens of graded and major races. Racing historians often credit him with helping to raise the status of Japanese-bred stallions at a time when foreign sires still dominated the conversation.

Over the years, more than ten of his sons went to stud themselves. Although his male line has since faded and no longer survives as a direct sire line, Shinzan’s name still appears in modern pedigrees through daughters and later generations. His influence, while quieter now, continues to ripple through the Japanese Thoroughbred population.

Retirement, Longevity, and a National Treasure

When his days at stud were over, Shinzan remained in Hokkaido, spending his retirement at Tanikawa Stud in Urakawa. Even as an old horse, he drew visitors from all over Japan. Fans who had seen him race – and many who had only heard the stories – came to pay their respects, feed him carrots, and take photographs.

In 1995 he broke the domestic longevity record for a Thoroughbred. In 1996 he went one step further, setting a record for the longest-lived light horse in Japan. He passed away on 13 July 1996 at the age of 35 years and 3 months – roughly equivalent to almost 100 years in human terms.

His career earnings had totaled about 60.22 million yen – a huge sum for his era (worth several hundred million to around a billion yen in today’s terms). But by then, numbers hardly mattered. In the hearts of racing fans, Shinzan was no longer just a statistic; he was a legend, a memory, and a symbol.

Monuments and Memory: How Shinzan Is Remembered

Shinzan’s achievements have been commemorated in many ways.

The Shinzan Kinen and Racing Honors

In 1967, just one year after his retirement, the Shinzan Kinen was created – a race for three-year-olds (then called four-year-olds) held early in the season at Kyoto. It has since become a key stepping stone for young horses aiming at the spring Classics. Every year, when the Shinzan Kinen is run, commentators and fans alike are reminded of the horse whose name it bears.

In 1984, when the Japan Racing Association established its official Hall of Fame (Kenshō-ba), Shinzan was naturally among the early inductees. His Triple Crown, his five major race victories, and his flawless exacta record left no room for doubt.

Statues in Kyoto and Hokkaido

At Kyoto Racecourse, near the main gate, stands a bronze statue of Shinzan, along with a preserved horseshoe. The statue was formally installed during redevelopment work in 1992, and it has greeted visitors ever since. Many fans stop there for a moment before entering the track – a quiet ritual of respect.

Another statue stands at Tanikawa Stud in Hokkaido, where Shinzan spent his later years. It is a simpler monument, surrounded by the quiet of the countryside, but for those who make the pilgrimage north, it carries a powerful emotional weight. You are not just looking at bronze; you are standing in the place where a legend lived out his final days.

“Surpass Shinzan”: A Standard of Greatness

Shinzan’s name still appears in Japanese sports journalism and everyday conversation as a kind of metaphor. When someone achieves a high standard and people wonder if anyone will ever go beyond it, they sometimes say: “Can they surpass Shinzan?”

That alone says a great deal. Even in an era that has seen horses like Deep Impact, Orfevre, and Almond Eye, the old five-crown champion remains a reference point.

For foreign fans discovering Japanese racing, the modern stars may be easier entry points. But if you follow the history back, through the postwar years and into the 1960s, you will find Shinzan standing at a crossroads: a domestically bred colt who took on every challenge, never finished worse than second, and helped define what “greatness” means on the Japanese turf.

Triple Crown hero. Five-crown legend. Hall of Famer. Record-breaking iron horse who lived to thirty-five.

In the story of Japanese horse racing, Shinzan is not just a chapter. He is one of the pillars that holds the whole narrative together.