Old Friends

It has been a non-racing ten days as I have been spending time preparing for my in-laws Diamond Wedding celebrations.

Sixty years is a long time to be together, especially in this day and age where marriage seems to be viewed in some quarters like any other commodity – one that can be thrown away when interest has waned.

One present I worked on, which has almost been a twelve hour a day task for a week, was building a DVD of their lifetimes. A combination of family photographs from their childhood days in the 1920’s through to the present day and I interspersed news archive from over the years.

It really bought home just how life has changed in the last 80 odd years.

The longevity of my in-laws marriage also made me think of racing and, as the seasons change, the differences between flat and national hunt.

I make no secret of the fact I prefer the jumps scene. Partly because I find the racing itself more enjoyable and exciting but, as importantly, the horses seem to be around for ever.

You only have to look at the racing news over the past week to see how many top flat runners have beef “retired” at three or four years of age, Sea The Stars , Ghanaati and Look Here amongst them.

There are very few flat horses who reappear again and again, generally those who do are low class with no breeding potential. Of course, there is always the exception which proves the rule, the most notable being Yeats, who was retired earlier this month – seemingly part of the fixtures and fittings at Royal Ascot, having won the Gold Cup four times.

With National Hunt it is different, the horses keep coming back season after season and we never tire of the big clashes, even if it is the umpteenth time the horses in question may have lined up together.

The runners really do become part of the furniture they are around long enough to etch a place in the hearts of racegoers. When the great jump horses ,who have been around for years, finally do hang up their racing shoes or, like Inglis Drever, finally pass away. They really are missed, like losing an old friend.

Of course the jump horses, especially the males, will tend to be around longer as they have no value at stud, with 99.9% of jumping males having had their “tackle” despatched.

Perhaps us human males feel a twinge of sympathy for their emasculation?

So as I celebrate my in-laws long marriage, I also celebrate the start of the national hunt “season” proper and look forward to the return of some old friends, starting at Aintree tomorrow – bring it on.

* * * * * * * * * *

As a footnote to the flat season, congratulations to trainer Mark Johnston for training 200 British winners in a season.

Dignity In Death

I realise I am at risk of being called a stupid sentimentalist for writing this article but it is something I need to get off my chest.

It is a sad reality that in this sport of ours some horses will pay the ultimate price during a race, especially in National Hunt racing. Although it has to be admitted, thankfully, the number of fatalities is declining thanks to better regulation and safer course design.

In most cases, although not a pleasant job, the matter is dealt with efficiently and with a certain amount of dignity, or as much dignity as can be mustered in removing a dead horse from the course.

At most courses they have a separate box for the removal of dead horses and at the overwhelming majority of courses the box used for this task looks no different than the horse ambulance or any small horsebox. To the uninitiated or casual observer they would not know if the horse was being taken away in an ambulance or knackers box. To those “in the know” the usual difference is the ambulance is towed by a 4x4 and the knackers box by a tractor.

This is not to say racing should gloss over fatalities on the course, far from it and whenever I report on a race which has seen a horse pay the ultimate price, I mention it.

By contrast the approach of the Press Association when producing their “comments in running” is questionable in they steadfastly refuse to acknowledge any equine fatality. Such an approach plays into the hands of opponents of the sport, who will rightly claim the deaths are being covered up.

At Hexham on Saturday the old Cartmel stalwart Michaels Dream was tragically killed at the first flight in the home straight and later on in the afternoon Jamaica Man broke down on his debut, also in the home straight, although in this case further away from the crowds.

Instead of using a “box” to remove the horses from the course, the means of disposal was a flat bed trailer on the back of a tractor and once loaded the body was covered by throwing a tarpaulin over the top.

I know we have to accept the “ugly” side of our sport but having a horse dragged onto the back of a flat bed trailer just seemed to be totally lacking in dignity and added to what was already a distressing scene.

I am not suggesting that we anthropomorphise horses but I see no issue with affording them some dignity. My view is not unique, I heard several comments at the course, including from seasoned, dare I say hardened, racegoers saying it did not look good.

As I have already said there is no easy way to remove dead horses but by using a box, similar to the horse ambulance, it visually lessens the impact and affords some decency to the noble beast.

If a human dies in the street the body is still taken away by ambulance, it is not loaded into the back of a truck and covered with a tarpaulin.

There are those who would argue that Hexham’s approach is right and the fact horses die should not be hidden from the public. To an extent I agree, although if the courses were to forward that argument, I would counter they should not be afraid to announce over the PA when a horse has been “killed in action”. Racegoers want to know, racegoers need to know, racegoers have a right to know.

I hope that Hexham will get rid of the flat bed and follow the example of other courses in using a box to remove their casualties.

I must stress my only criticism of Hexham is in the use of the flat bed for removing the corpse. The speed of response by the veterinary teams and the care given to the horses was, as always, exemplary.

Indeed compared with the “treatment” afforded to stricken horses at, for example, French provincial courses, we have absolutely nothing to complain about in this country.

At a time when our sport, and especially the jumping game, is coming under constant attack by the so called “animal rights” lobby, we in racing need to avoid scoring own goals.

In the scheme of things the use of a flat bed is probably the least of racings worries but it is a simple one to address.

Prior to publishing this article I did send a copy to Hexham racecourse for comment and received the following response from Managing Director, Charles Enderby, “Although we have never had criticism over the years of our flatbed, I think, as you point out, it is time for improvement.

I plan to use our old Horse Ambulance for future collection of dead horses. Hopefully this will start on the 6th November, but if the adaption takes a little longer, it will be in use for our 18th November meeting onwards.”

Full marks to Charles Enderby for his proactive response.

A Matter Of Culture?

Perhaps I am odd?

Well, actually, many who know me would probably say I am odd but that is another story.

The context in which I make the statement today is I seem to be one of the small minority who does not need to have alcohol to enjoy a day at the races. I can enjoy the atmosphere, excitement and passion without having to resort to ingesting chemicals to help me enjoy the day.

Now let me make one thing clear before we continue, I have nothing against alcohol per-se, indeed it would be somewhat hypocritical of me to denounce what some call the demon drink – I was once a heavy drinker myself.

What does irritate me is people who cannot take their drink. For all the vast amounts of alcohol I used to drink I never once got in a fight, never once became a nuisance to others, unless you classify telling terrible jokes as being a nuisance!!

Yet an increasing number of drinkers now become, at best an irritation, at worse aggressive boors. Witness most high streets most, but especially weekend, evenings.

Now the problem is increasingly becoming prevalent at UK racetracks. There are more and more reports of fisticuffs breaking out as a result of some drunk taking exception to some perceived slight. Increasing numbers of, for want of a better word, “normal” racegoers are being put off by the underlying atmosphere that increasingly develop at some courses.

It used to be that one or two courses had a reputation for being “lively” – now the number is increasing.

The more observant amongst you will have noted in the preceding paragraph but one I used the words “prevalent at UK racetracks”, this was a deliberate choice of wording as it does seem to be a UK problem.

I am a frequent visitor to Irish racetracks, where any meeting lasting two days or more is dubbed a festival and where there is a festival the Irish party. And do they know how to party, the beer (or more precisely the “black stuff” flows), indeed it undoubtedly flows a great deal faster than the beer at UK courses.

Indeed some Irish racing festivals, Galway in particular springs to mind, tend to be a drinking festival with some racing tagged on.

Yet I have never once seen a major punch up at an Irish track, I have never felt uneasy and intimidated. Yes I am sure things do sometimes kick off at Irish courses but I would suggest it is a rarity.

Last weekend I was at Longchamp. Again the drink both wine and beer was flowing yet the atmosphere was relaxed and joyous, no doubt helped by the atmospheric run of Sea The Stars. But even in previous years, without such a unifying distraction, there has been no edge.

Go racing in the US or Canada and there is no opportunity to get drunk or cause trouble. Alcohol sales are strongly controlled, both in the amount you can buy and where it can be drunk.

Racing For Change wants to attract more racegoers, wants to make racing a more enjoyable experience. One answer must be to address the issue of drinking and drunken louts.

Of course there is a paradox in that alcohol sales are undoubtedly the biggest source of income for most courses. Having once been the licensee for a Sports and Social Club, I know exactly how much profit is to be made from alcohol sales and you can bet your bottom dollar racecourses have even better deals than we were able to negotiate!!

I also realise there is a cultural aspect as well. Apologists will say what happens in the racecourse is only a reflection of society in general, that is not an excuse it is simply buck passing.

There are strict conditions relating to the granting of an alcohol licence, principal amongst them is you should not serve alcohol to those who are already intoxicated.

The problem is, generally, racecourses employ youngsters with neither the knowledge of the regulations not the ability to enforce them.

There needs to be a stricter application of the licensing regulations at racecourses. Already drunk racegoers should not be served with more alcohol.

The excuse it is less trouble to serve them is exactly that, an excuse. If you have the privilege of having a licence to sell alcohol then you must have the means of enforcing the rules, even if that means employing extra security.

When there is alcohol fuelled violence at a racecourse the licensee should be given a formal warning, should there be a repeat their licence should then be suspended for the next meeting. If there are problems after that then a longer suspension should be applied.

It will only need one course to have their licence suspended for all of them to take action – it shouldn’t be that way but c’est la vie.

What it also needs is someone to make a complaint to the licensing authorities next time they see the drink rules being flouted at a racecourse. Perhaps I should do so next time I see a drunken incident kick-off.

I suspect I will not have to wait that long.

A Real Star

I have to confess I do not believe in ghosts and the supernatural. Those that do tell me that when they walk into a room where they feel a “presence” the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end, they feel a shiver down the spine and they get goosebumps.


Those are exactly the feelings I experienced at Longchamp on Sunday afternoon, although in my case they were provoked not by the supernatural but by a superstar, or to be more precise super Stars.


Win or lose on Sunday, John Oxx’s Sea the Stars was already, by any yardstick, amongst the greats winning the 2,000 Guineas, Epsom Derby, not to mention the Eclipse, Juddmonte International and Irish Champion Stakes along the way.


I was fortunate enough to have press accreditation to the meeting which gave me access to a fantastic viewing area near the top of the huge, sweeping stand at Longchamp. I made sure I was in position long before the big race and I was not the only one.


For the earlier races there were no more than a dozen hacks taking advantage of this prime viewing position now there were a couple of hundred and I was so pleased I had managed to grab one of the prime positions.


It was just before the runners left the parade ring for the main parade that the strange feelings began. Like a gently breeze on the back of the neck and the hairs stood on end, it also seemed unusually quiet – a feeling of expectation. Next came the shiver, the goosebumps and an almost sixth sense feeling something special was about to happen.


And I wasn’t the only one, speaking to others afterwards, they also experienced the similar feelings, a similar sense of anticipation.


The first runners came onto the course, headed by the runner-up of the last two renewals, Youmzain. Sea The Stars should have been one of the last to emerge but the order shifted somehow.


Then it started – it began just as a small ripple of applause, then some cheers, then more cheers.
Sea The Stars was emerging from the walkway and was already being welcomed like a winning hero and this was before the race began. I can’t recall ever seeing such a welcome for a horse just coming onto the track.


Not everyone seemed to be happy at the adulation being given to John Oxx’s star. The French filly Stacelita, who along with Cavalryman was supplemented for the race at an eye watering €100,000 last Thursday, could not have be more on fire had someone doused her with rocket fuel and ignited the blue touch paper.


Indeed at one point it looked as though she was going to cannon into the back of our hero as they paraded.


There was a roar as the field set off, granted nothing like the famous, or should that be infamous, Cheltenham roar but a roar nonetheless – followers of flat racing tend to be a little more restrained and conservative, with a small “c”.


Sea The Stars is almost a Jekyll and Hyde horse. He copes with the pre (and indeed post) race formalities with almost contempt, looking totally at ease within himself.


Once the gates spring open it is a different story. Like a championship boxer primed to respond to the bell, Sea The Stars responds to the gates opening in the same way.


No more Mr Nice Guy, beware the fighter.


His jockey, by contrast, is Mr Relaxed. Now in his second half century, he is no young buck looking for glory. He is a mature, unfazed rider, who seems to be at one with his mount.


He rode his first winner back in 1975, when Frankie Dettori was a five year old in Milan and a full eight years before Ryan Moore was born.


When Sea The Stars was out of the stalls the horse wanted to be in front, but the calm Kinane, calling on his years of experience just calmed him down, relaxed him and settled him well back in the field.


Contrast Kinane’s cool riding with that of young Mr Levy on the pacemaker Set Sail – who allowed the horse to run away with him, totally negating his role as pacemaker.


Kinane kept Sea The Stars held up most of the contest and, as it typical in French races, all the action began in the home straight.


Sea The Stars looked to be in a hopeless position against the rails, it looked as though he would be a shooting star – fading into the night and memory.


Then it happened and I was in the absolutely perfect position.


I have seen the television replays of the race – they do no justice to what happened.


For those of you who know Longchamp my viewing position was on the third tier of the main stand, between towers nine and ten. If you don’t know Longchamp all you need to know is it is very high up about a furlong from the line.


There is a line in the Bible about getting a camel through the eye of a needle – well I think I have found a man who can do it. My binoculars just happened to be trained on Sea The Stars as he began his move off the rail.


Even though I saw it with my own eyes I still cannot actually believe what I saw. Whether it was Kinane’s jockeyship, or Sea The Stars natural talent, or even a combination of the two, the duo weaved their way our of the impossible position, Houdini like and it was race over.


They were away, leaving a high class field in their wake and the rest, as they say, is history.


I will swear there was a nanosecond of absolute silence, as there was a collective intake of breath as the crowd took in what they had just seen, followed immediately by a cacophony of sound. Raw human sound.


It is very rare for me to shout and cheer a horse home, even less so a horse I have not backed but, along with everyone around me, I was cheering a wonder horse home.


I was surrounded by a veritable United Nations of journalists, from all corners of the globe, for a brief moment all were united. Sharing a common celebration, each cheering Sea The Stars as their own.


I am not ashamed to admit I had tears streaming down by cheeks and I was not alone.


Not a single journalist left their vantage point – filing copy could wait – this was a moment to savour.


Kinane and Sea The Stars made their slow, majestic, progress back along the straight seemingly soaking up the adulation of their adoring fans, even the horse knew he was something special.


Then came the moment I kicked myself, all around me had cameras and were taking photos of the winner, my camera was downstairs in my bag.


I don’t care though – I was seeing it all unfold before me. I did not need a camera. Everything I had seen in the previous ten minutes or so was being indelibly etched into my memory. I can shut my eyes now and see the race rerun.


I don’t know what the future holds or how many more years, months, days I may have left on this third planet of the sun.


One thing I do know is on Sunday, 4th October 2009 I saw the best horse I have seen in my lifetime, and will probably ever see again, run the best race he has ever run at an emotionally charged Longchamp.


I am proud to say “I was there” and that is something nobody can ever take away from me.Sea
The Stars you are a real star.