A Symmetrical Year

In terms of racing there has been a certain symmetry to 2009.

The year began with the racing program being decimated by bad weather and the year is ending the same way.

Both the flat and National Hunt scenes have been dominated, literally, by stars.

We have seen the 25th anniversary of all-weather racing in the UK and continued decline of racing coverage on the BBC.

Also the sport is having to face the realisation of the wider economic slump.

It is ironic with all the talk of global warming racing has been badly hit by freezing conditions in 2009. January and February saw the loss of 52 meetings, whilst December is also seeing a spate of weather related cancellations.

Racing authorities responded to the spate of cancellations by scheduling extra all weather meetings, mainly – or is that exclusively – at the behest of the bookmakers, who seem to be champions of the sandpit racing. Presumably because it is fodder for the mug punters.

Indeed the bookmakers have again been flexing their muscles in 2009. To the extent one seriously has to ask who actually runs racing – is it the BHA or is it the bookmakers. One sometimes wonders.

Hindsight is wonderful but I must confess if I could turn the clock back to 1961 when betting offices were “legitimised” I would fight the bill tooth and nail. Looking back I do not believe the bookmaking industry has been good for racing and racing would have been better served has we had a Tote monopoly with a fixed percentage going back into the sport. With such provision the sport would, I believe, be in a better financial situation than it currently is.

We are now faced with the situation where the industry basically has to go “cap in hand” to the Levey negotiations to try and get money from the bookmakers, most of whom are now based offshore.

Indeed the Levy is archaic. With racing accounting for only a small percentage of bookmakers turnover it seems incongruous the industry should be treated as a special case. If racing receives a levy then why shouldn’t football, rugby, tennis, golf or cricket?

On the track we have been treated to two super stars, one in either code. This year it is impossible to claim the two champions are not stars as it is in their name. In the yellow corner, for the flat team we have Sea The Stars and for National Hunt, in the green and yellow corner, we have Kauto Star.

John Oxx’s Sea The Stars is the undisputed star of the flat in 2009. He overcame a training setback to win the 2,000 Guineas at Newmarket.

The Derby was the next target, a race he approached with doubts about his stamina over 1½ miles. As he demonstrated his fantastic turn of foot The Derby was won without even breaking into a sweat. His detractors claimed he was lucky in the race was run to suit him


Next up was the Coral Eclipse at Sandown, down to 1¼ miles but taking on his elders for the first time. This time he had to work hard for victory but victorious he was beating fellow three-year-old Rip Van Winkle by a length with their elders four lengths plus in arrears.


Then the Juddmonte at York, only three rivals all from the O’Brien yard with Mastercraftsman his only serious rival. Riding a waiting race jockey Mick Kinane asked for an effort a furlong out and Sea The Stars eased into the lead for another length victory.

It was back to home territory in September as he lined up in the Irish Champion Stakes at Leopardstown. Once again his main challengers came from the O’Brien yard and although O’Brien runners took 2nd, 3rd and 4th places the winner was invariably Sea The Stars with a comfortable 2½ length victory.

His swan son was in, arguably, Europe’s greatest middle distance race the Prix De l’Arc De Triomphe at Longchamp. Two furlongs out it looked as though he was going to blot his copy book. However his veteran rider Mick Kinane did not panic and when a gap appeared he weaved his way through, the horse showing fantastic acceleration and a furlong out he was in front.

The rest, as they say, is history.

I was privileged to be in Paris that afternoon. I have never seen or felt such raw emotion at a racetrack. Standing in the press viewing area, surrounded by wizened and hardened hacks I wasn’t the only one to have tears running down my cheeks.

The brilliant horse, having achieved the unique Guineas / Derby / Arc treble has been retired to stud. Hopefully next year he will cover Zarkava , the 2008 Arc winner.

His rider Mick Kinane also decided to hang up his boots – not sure if he is off to stud as well – after a brilliant career and a season it would be impossible to better.

Also on the flat Ryan Moore was, once again, champion jockey.

Kieran Fallon finally returned to the saddle to show what a good rider he can be and he can put his demons behind him he could be the one to give Moore most to worry about next season.

On the jumps it was the other star Kauto Star who has taken most of the plaudits.

Having won last years King George for the third time his 2009 debut was in the Blue Riband Cheltenham Gold Cup, where he faced stablemate Denman (returning after a heart scare) and his old rival Exotic Dancer.


The race was over three from home when he hit the front and powered clear to record a 13 length victory over Denman with Exotic Dancer a further 2½ lengths back in third. In winning the race he became the first horse to regain the Gold Cup.

After his summer break her returned to Haydock for the Betfair Chase, where last year he unseated Sam Thomas at the last. He put in a clear round this year but his backers had a fright as Imperial Commander made him fight all the way to the line, with many observers thinking the champion had been beaten. After what seemed ages Kauto Star was awarded the race by a nose.


His final appearance this year was his attempt to win a fourth consecutive King George. Lining up against a high class field he put in what can only be described as the perfect performance.

His jumping was sublime and foot perfect. Taking the lead turning for home the judge needed binoculars not a camera to determine the winning distance as he came home 36 lengths clear of his rivals.

Of course his stablemate Denman cannot be ignored. Coming back from his heart scare he had an easy introduction back, coming second to Madison du Berlais at Kempton.

Next up was the Gold Cup, where he was arguably still not fully fit, and his second to Kauto Star.

He reappeared quickly in the Totepool Bowl at Aintree where he took a crashing fall two out. The screens went up and he was taken away in a horse ambulance but luckily the worse he suffered was a bad cut. The news was not so good for Exotic Dancer, runner-up in the contest, who sadly collapsed and died in the stables after the race.

After a summer break Denman was back at Newbury for the Hennessy. Burdened with a top weight of 11st 12lbs he was giving 17lbs plus to his rivals.

Despite this welter burden he came home a convincing 3½ length winner.

Elsewhere Venetia Williams became only the second woman to train a Grand National winner as 100/1 outsider Mon Mome took the Aintree showpiece.

It is hard to believe 2009 saw the 25th anniversary of all-weather racing. To some a great racing format to others the spawn of the devil.

It was mixed news for racecourses in 2009. Attendances seemed to buck the recession with a slight year on year rise on 2008.

January saw the demise of the ill-fated Great Leighs a course seemingly fated from the outset, late opening and seemingly dragged down by poor management.

By contrast the UK’s newest course Ffos Las opened to near universal acclaim. Its well drained racing surface attracting praise from some of the toughest critics – the top trainers.

Mixed news for those who rely of terrestrial for the television coverage. The BBC announcing they are greatly reducing their 2010 coverage on television.

BBC Radio has fared little better with their plumbing the depths and turning their racing coverage into a pantomime farce on the Friday of Royal Ascot.

A new agreement has been reached with Channel Four, however at a cost to racing where the industry is paying C4 to cover the sport – another case of the tail wagging the dog?

As in the real world the recession has hit the sport. The Levy being reduced with a consequential drop in prize money. Even the top owners are cutting back, some reducing their strings others leaving the sport entirely.

It will be interesting to see what impact the financial crisis in Dubai has on the Arab involvement in the sport. They are saying the funding issues are separate and unconnected. However I fail to see how, morally, the rulers of Dubai can continue to inject such huge funds into the sport when their country is verging on bankruptcy.

All in all 2009 has been an eventful year – I wonder what 2010 has in store for us?

BBC Contempt For Racing

Once again the BBC has clearly illustrated the contempt in which it holds racing.

In the BBC Sports Personality Of The Year, racing was given a derisory 45 seconds, plus a surreal item on Sea The Stars by that well known racing personality Professor Robert Winston – I cannot recall the last time I saw him on a race course!!

Yet BBC Radio’s erstwhile racing correspondent, Cornelius Lysaght, says in a Twitter posting “Racing industry loves to knock this prog but decent coverage length.”

Decent length?

A 45 second summary in a two hour program – decent?

Plus a meaningless item about, arguably the greatest horse of this generation, fronted by a fertility expert with no active involvement in racing. Why couldn’t Jim McGrath have presented an item about the horse?

Even gymnastics and cycling had a greater air time in the program.

Can you imagine the outcry if Football was dismissed in such an offhand manner? There would be questions in The House.

Then there was the award itself … Ryan Giggs, in defence of his victory Lysaght says, “here is a 36 year old decent guy still playing that you cant fail to admire.”

What about AP McCoy? He has been around almost as long as Giggs, has made a greater contribution to his sport than Giggs has ever made to his, yet he never, ever makes the shortlist.

Racing on BBC Television will be almost non-existent next year as they “cherry pick” the big races, Grand National, Derby, Royal Ascot and a couple of other meetings. Remember the days when Grandstand always had racing almost every week, sometimes two meetings in an afternoon.

It isn’t much better on BBC Radio Football, sorry Radio Five Live.

If there is a goal somewhere in some obscure game in the Blue Square Conference that will invariably take precedence over a live race commentary.

Even when there is live commentary it risks becoming a pantomime farce, literally.

BBC Radio has one of the best commentators in the business in the shape of John Hunt, yet even he ends up playing the stooge in a pantomime farce, a criminal waste of his talent.

Cast your mind back to the Friday of Royal Ascot 2009.

Instead of dedicated coverage of the Royal Meeting, coverage was interspersed with the Simon Mayo show (a broadcaster who makes no secret of his dislike of racing). On this particular afternoon he was performing a double act, in front of an audience, with some character called Mark Kermode, or listening to what he spouts he should perhaps be called Mark Commode.

Two races, the Albany and Coronation Stakes were to be broadcast during this sequence.

What happened, with both races, was that Cornelius Lysaght came up with 3 fancied horses and allocated them to the left hand, middle and right hand sections of the audience back in the studio.

They were instructed to cheer every time that horse was mentioned. During the race John Hunt would pause every time he mentioned one of these horses and they'd cut to the studio audience cheering.

Granted it was an extreme example and has, fortunately, never been repeated.

However the coverage was crass, embarrassing and should never have been broadcast in the first place.

What were Lysaght and Hunt thinking of agreeing to take part in such a farce?

Surely they are not that desperate to get the racing broadcast that they would stoop to any level?

If I were the racing correspondent, I would have refused point blank to play along with the charade and if it meant the races not being broadcast then so be it. I would, however, have made damned sure the public knew why the races had not been broadcast.

Even ignoring this extreme example there are still plenty of unnecessary interruptions in commentaries, especially in national hunt races, to serve as a distraction.

People generally listen to racing commentaries on the radio because they are unable to watch the race live or on television. They need the commentator to paint the picture of what is happening, developing the scene.

What they don’t want is to hear the views of Luke Harvey or anybody else, as the horses cross the Melling Roadback onto the main course at Aintree, they want to hear John Hunt describing the action.

Racing is not like football or golf, where commentators can be whimsical or engage in chit-chat. The action is relatively short and sharp and nothing should detract from the action on the track.

Since the late Peter Bromley retired the diminution of racing coverage on BBC Radio has been palpable.

No more classified racing results, no more results in sports bulletins. No more morning or evening racing bulletins.

One of the “justifications” for dropping the racing results was the information is available on Teletext or the internet. Not if you are driving and want to hear the results it isn’t!! Anyway the same argument could be applied to any sports results or sports news. Why not drop the classified football results, after all they are available on text and online?

I remember, a couple of years ago, when Alan Lee in The Times broke the story that BBC Radio were to drop the morning racing bulletins, it was contemptuously and arrogantly denied by John Myers in that mornings racing bulletin. Yet everything Lee predicted has come about.

It is conspicuous that neither Clare Balding nor Cornelius Lysaght have publicly come out to criticise the BBC’s approach to racing. Perhaps they are more interested in protecting their careers than the sport they follow, only they can answer that.

Do they really think what the BBC is doing in relation to the sport is acceptable?

If so then I would respectfully suggest they should make way for others who will fight, and fight publicly, for racing to have the air time it deserves.

If they do not agree then they should have the moral courage to fight their corner and fight it publicly, they would have a great deal of support from both inside and outside the sport.

It is an absolute disgrace that the BBC is being allowed to marginalise racing, a sport which has attracted almost 5.5 million live spectators in the first 11 months of 2009.

Had these changes been proposed under Peter Bromley's watch, the foundations of Broadcasting House would be shaking as a result of his explosive reaction. In these PC days it seems the acceptable thing is to roll over and accept the cuts.

Peter Bromley must be turning in his grave.

Not That Bad ........

Love them or loath them, bookmakers are an integral part of racing both in the UK and Ireland.



They add to the atmosphere on course, they contribute a significant amount to prize money both via the Levy and through sponsorship. Although it is interesting the Government has hinted they want to completely review the Levy and probably not before time as it was designed before exchanges, the internet and offshore bookmakers were even thought about.



To their supporters they are an essential element of the sport without whom the sport would not survive. To their detractors they are seen as parasites, keen to make as much money from the sport and only paying lip service to supporting the sport and doing all they can to fleece punters.



The truth, of course, is somewhere between the two.



One criticism of bookmakers, especially at all-weather meetings where the markets are inherently weak, is the over rounds are poor and it is almost impossible for punters to get any value. Indeed the ring at some meetings is so weak it is effectively controlled by the high street bookmakers.



Punters rightly complain at books in the mid 100’s for small field contests.



I, however, have made a discovery that makes the bookmakers, even at the all weather meetings, appear positively generous.



Having now done every UK track at least three times I am now aiming my sights higher. My new quest is to go racing in as many different countries as possible.



Latest in the quest is Malta, home to two courses one just south of Valletta on the main island and one on the adjacent island of Gozo.



Last Sunday I visited Marsa racecourse, the islands principal course. Staging mainly trotting with some flat racing, this meeting was an eight race trotting meeting, although meetings with ten race cards are not uncommon.



For punters there is a choice of the Tote or betting with bookmakers.



At the meeting five races had 16 runners, two 15 and one 13. Yet with such large fields the biggest price I ever saw on offer from the bookies was 6/1 and that was only on one horse in a single race. The over rounds were appalling, there wasn’t a single race where the book was below 300%. In one race it was a staggering 391%.



Despite the terrible odds, there were crowds six deep around the bookmakers kiosks, clearly the locals in Malta have no concept of percentages or value.



The Tote prices seemed to be more realistic, with some runners showing indicative odds of 33/1 for example.



Can you imagine the outcry in the UK or Ireland if bookmakers priced up a 300% plus race – the forums would melt with the heated comments and their pitches would probably be overturned.



I cannot see even the most ardent supporter of bookmakers trying to defend such a book.



So although our bookmakers have many faults we, in the UK and Ireland, should be grateful we don’t have Maltese bookmakers.

A Tale Of Two Meetings

Saturday 28th November is one of those racing days which really shows the contrasts in the sport, perfectly illustrated by two meetings, geographically only 61 miles apart but a world apart in terms of the racing on offer.



On the one hand we had day three of Newbury’s Winter Festival, the highlight being the Hennessy Gold Cup. On the other we had Towcester, where the highlight was a 3 mile novices’ hurdle.



By rights I should have been at Newbury, however I also knew the course itself and the press room in particular would have been heaving and being a grumpy old man I would have spent the entire afternoon moaning and complaining.



Towcester by contrast was very quiet, crowds comfortable, only three others in the press room. Still plenty of chances to complain though.



Course commentator Richard Hoiles and I had a good moan about race planning.



At Towcester there was a 3 mile handicap hurdle due off at 2:35, a race that should take around 5’ 49” in good conditions and today they were far from good. Yet the big race of the day, the Hennessy at Newbury was scheduled to start at 2:40.



We were both miffed we were going to potentially miss the start of the big race. Indeed we agreed that given a spreadsheet we could easily organise race times ourselves without overlaps.



In the end it was potentially even worse, as the Towcester hurdle took 6’ 33” to run. Luckily the Hennessy was late off.



Anyway back to the contrasts. Newbury had a really top class card and it wasn’t just the Hennessy – the undercard was also cracking.



Lough Derg put in his usual brave performance in the long distance hurdle but even his bravery could not hold off the simply scintillating performance of Big Bucks, who took the contest without even getting out of bottom gear.



The real superlatives, however, were saved for Denman, carrying 11 stone 12 lbs and giving between 12 and 26 pounds to his rivals on his seasonal debut. He defied top weight to take the competitive contest although supporters may have had a few flutters approaching the last as his stablemate What A Friend, carrying 22lbs less, looked to be a danger. However contrasting jumps sealed the contest with Denman putting in a good leap and What A Friend looking as though he wanted to run out.



Paul Nicholls has two brilliant champions in the shape of Kauto Star and Denman and I hope above all hopes they both arrive at Cheltenham on March 19th fully fit – if they do the hyperbole of two years ago will look like a maiden aunts’ afternoon tea.



Towcester by contrast had the most uncompetitive racing I have seen in a long time. Now Towcester is renowned for its exciting finishes but not today. The first three races were won by 23, 24 & 13 lengths respectively. The “closest” finish of the afternoon was 2½ lengths.



There was some good riding with conditional rider Bernie Wharfe winning the Velcro award after finishing up round Double Dash’s neck at the last and somehow managing to get back in the saddle to take third place.



It says a great deal about the standard of racing that the most memorable aspect of the day occurred in the parade ring before the final race.



Caroline Bailey’s Qayak had been feisty in the preliminaries, having two handlers. Suddenly he bucked broke free of his handlers and careered around the parade ring, scattering assorted connections.



He then demolished a nine foot section of the parade ring rail. Running loose again a racegoer had to run as it looked as though he was going to jump the far rail in the ring.



Instead he turned, charged across the ring in the direction of the main enclosure , sending racegoers scattering in all directions. Fortunately he did not jump the rail but hid did damage another section.



As he headed towards the far end of the ring his lass bravely stood in his way and luckily he stopped and was caught.



I had just left the parade ring when the incident happened and I have to say it was very frightening incident, which had the potential to have been very serious with potential for injury to horses, connections and the general public both inside and outside the parade ring and full credit to the lass.



It brings home just how dangerous the sport is.



As I said a day of contrasts but it is these contrasts which make our sport so exciting and interesting. It is the “bread and butter” meetings which make the big ones stand out even more.



It isn’t very often I agree with the BBC’s erstwhile Racing correspondent Cornelius Lysaght but this afternoon he said “Yet another fabulous Saturday; truly this is a golden period for jump racing.”



Do you know what – he is spot on.

A Matter Of Timing

A very interesting advertisement appeared in last Saturday’s Racing Post.


It was in the recruitment section and was from the British Horseracing Authority (BHA) and was for a “Race Times and Race Planning Executive.”


The advertisement states the jobholder will “manage the coordination of all race times across the UK, ensuring optimal intervals and avoiding any race clashes.”


All I can say is – not before time.


It is bad enough when races are delayed, resulting in clashes. However the weekend before last there was a clash of races actually built into the schedule.


The Charlie Hall Chase at Wetherby, the feature race of the day incidentally, was scheduled to go off at 2:55.


The “standard” time for the 3m 1f contest is 6’ 5”, yet there was a Listed contest scheduled to go off at Ascot at 3:00, meaning even if the Charlie Hall went of bang on time the Ascot race was due to start as the feature race was building up to a climax.


Notwithstanding the clash built into the schedule one would have expected the start of the Ascot contest to have been delayed until the Charlie Hall had finished.


Of course nothing of the sort happened, the Ascot race was off on time resulting in a clash.


Paul Struthers, the BHA’s Media Relations Manager has stated, “There is someone who is office based on Monday to Friday who helps to co-ordinate any amendments to off times Monday to Friday. At a weekend the responsibility lies with the Stewards.”


Well clearly the communication between Stewards is not working.


Having races clashing does not help anybody, punters get frustrated, bookmakers potentially lose revenue and even broadcasters have to resort to split screen presentations which are far from ideal.


Now I happen to think avoiding clashes is more a matter of common sense than rocket science.


So here are my high level suggestions for avoiding clashes.

1. Plan the race times correctly in the first instance. If there are, for example, two jump fixtures and two flat fixtures then alternate in the scheduling going jump, flat, jump , flat. Do not schedule jump, jump, flat, flat.


2. Ensure there are adequate gaps in the initial programming. When there is a race with a standard time of six minutes, do not schedule the next race elsewhere to go off in five minutes. The minimum gap between “off times” should be the standard time plus two minutes.


3. Avoid the obsession with off times having to be on the “five minutes” , whilst the gaps between races should be as regular as possible, is it a big issue if a race is scheduled to go off at 3:03 instead of 3:00?


4. It is a fact of life that race starts will be delayed due to unforeseen circumstances. However there are plenty of occasions where there is no obvious reason for a delay. For any race where the race is more than two minutes later than its agreed off time the stewards should hold an enquiry. If the delay was avoidable, e.g. jockeys late from the weighing room, a trainer late sending a horse to the parade ring, loading not beginning soon enough, then those responsible should be punished. The onus should be on the course to prove the delay was not avoidable.


5. When races do become delayed then the schedule, across all courses, needs to be proactively reviewed and managed. This should be done centrally and should not be left to individual teams of Stewards to arrange. The individual responsible should have the authority to override local Stewards.

Clearly managing race times is a great deal simpler on days where there are two or three concurrent meetings. When there are four or five it becomes more tricky and on Bank Holidays it is an impossibility to avoid clashed, in which case the emphasis should be to avoid clashes at the principal meetings.


The individual responsible for coordination should have the authority, for example, to put all races back five minutes. Or where there is sufficient leeway just delay the start of the next race by a couple of minutes.


We are in the 21st Century and all key players at a meeting are in radio contact.


As I said it is not rocket science and it can work. I recall being at Ffos Las on St Leger day. The St Leger was running late and there would have been a clash had the Ffos Las race gone off on time. What happened was the runners in the Ffos Las race were back for five minutes and loading began once the St Leger finished. No histrionics or dramatics. Punters at Ffos Las were kept informed and the time was made up by the end of the afternoon.


In that last paragraph I touched on one key aspect of the whole plan – communication. It is essential that spectators on the course, punters in the betting shops and at home are kept informed of what is happening. It is essential that racecourses, bookmakers and broadcasters are kept fully aware of what is happening and the information is disseminated as quickly as possible.


Of course changes to race time can be kept to a minimum provided the initial off times are realistic and that avoidable delays are eliminated as much as possible.

I could quite easily do the job for the BHA, it’s just a pity they cannot afford me.

The (Sand) Pits Of Racing

As a large number of racing eyes pan west towards the, self proclaimed, World Championships – i.e. that overblown excess in self indulgence known as the Breeders Cup, opinion here has been divided as some celebrate and others bemoan the 20th anniversary of “all-weather” racing in this country.



I have always though the term “all-weather” to be a misnomer – after all was the first scheduled meeting not abandoned to fog? And there have been many abandonments over the past twenty years due to adverse weather conditions.



The term “all-weather” was actually coined as a marketing ploy as the original point of the artificial surface racing was to provide an alternative in the depths of winter when the weather decimated jump racing.



Since those early days of backup meetings all-weather has spread, like a cancer, through the sport so in 2010 we have 302 all-weather meetings scheduled and, doubtless, that number will increase should we see the widespread abandonment s of National Hunt fixtures.



I suppose one “positive” is they have stopped selling the line that all-weather racing is provided as a backup for turf cancellations.



It is not – it is provided as generally low grade betting fodder, solely for the benefit of high street bookmakers.



Yes I concede it isn’t all low grade, there are even some listed races run on the all-weather but 85% is low grade fare contested not by “has been” runners but by “never will be” runners.



Take a look at next years fixture lists. Of the 302 meetings 110 are evening fixtures outside the main evening racing season – in other words meetings run exclusively for the benefit of bookmakers to provide betting opportunities for the mug and compulsive gambler in the evenings.



Looking at the attendance figures is certainly enlightening.



The figures suggest AW is not that popular with racegoers and apologies for the stats but they make interesting reading.



Here are the attendance figures for 2009 to date (up to last Tuesday)



National Hunt



No Of Meetings: 375

Mean Average Attendance: 4,053

Median Average Attendance: 2,432

Highest: 78,790

Lowest: 621



Flat Turf



No Of Meetings: 586

Mean Average Attendance: 5,733

Median Average Attendance: 3,283

Highest: 66,852

Lowest: 535



All-weather



No Of Meetings: 237

Mean Average Attendance: 819

Median Average Attendance: 688

Highest: 3,318

Lowest: 144



Size Of Crowd By Meeting type



National Hunt



500 - 1000: 21 (5.6%)

1001 - 3000: 214 (57.07%)

3001 - 5000: 81 (21.6%)

5001 - 10000: 40 (10.67%)

10001 - 25000: 12 (3.2%)

> 25000: 7 (1.87%)



Flat Turf



500 - 1000: 43 (7.34%)

1001 - 3000: 217 (37.03%)

3001 - 5000: 132 (22.53%)

5001 - 10000: 114 (19.45%)

10001 - 25000: 64 (10.92%)

> 25000: 16 (2.73%)



AW



<500: 59 (24.89%)

500 - 1000: 126 (53.16%)

1001 - 3000: 50 (21.10%)

3001 - 5000: 2 (0.08%)

Whichever way you look at the figures the racegoing public, even after 20 years, do not like the all-weather product.



Add to the equation the exceptionally weak on course betting market. A combination small “crowds” coupled with just three or four bookmakers not being uncommon. One wonders what the attraction of the all-weather racing is.



I am not calling for the abolition of all-weather racing, it has its place, however it needs to be tempered. It needs to revert to what it was initially set up to provide. In other words a back-up option for use in inclement weather.



One of the delights of British racing is its diversity.



Take a week in April where I went to Ayr (Scottish National), Kempton (AW), Towcester, Epsom, Fontwell and Sandown. Six courses, including an all-weather fixture, and every one completely different in character – for me that is the attraction of racing in this country.



In January when we lost all the jump racing I went to five AW meetings in one week - I had almost lost the will to live by the end of it - just down to the sheer repetitiveness of it all. The only bright note was one of the meetings proved to be the death knell of Great Leighs.



If I lived in the United States I would despair, I certainly would not be a follower of racing where the “sport” consists of a homogenous mass of flat oval courses, where races of 1½ miles are considered to be marathon races.



Calling the Breeders Cup the World Championships is just sheer arrogance on the part of the Americans. By all means incorporate it into part of a World Series which, on a points basis, could take in top races around the world at different tracks and on different surfaces.



Until then the Breeders Cup, for me, is just another all-weather fixture, albeit with a better quality than a Kempton Wednesday evening or Wolverhampton Monday afternoon fixture.

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.

Expect The Unexpected

Ffos Las on Saturday afternoon was meant to be a quiet, run of the mill, meeting.

It was a meeting transferred from the ill fated Great Leighs and it was unquestionably the “weakest” flat meeting of the afternoon. There was also a delicious irony that the meeting had been transferred from the UK’s second newest course to its newest.

The “competition” came from Chester, Goodwood and, of course, Doncaster. The latter staging the final Classic of the season, the St Leger.

Consequently, forty five minutes before racing, the press room at Ffos Las was a relatively quiet place, with most of the racing media being at the other meetings.

There were six of us working in there.

Neil Morrice was in one corner, on the phone getting quotes from trainers with runners that afternoon. I am often tempted to mug Neil and steal his mobile phone as he has the most enviable contact list of trainers and others who matter in the sport. Neil was doing trackside live for the Racing Post as well as the report for the Sunday’s paper.

Keith Hewitt, the Raceform and Racing Post race reader, was battling with the hi-tech DVD recorder trying to figure out how it works – muttering about how much simpler video is.

Meanwhile reporters from Radio Wales and Radio Cymru were having similar technological battles in the other corner, attempting to get their broadcast equipment working.

On the other side of the room was myself and commentator Alan Howes, who was doing his last minute preparation for the eight race card.

Then, without warning, the peace and quiet was broken as in waltzed around a dozen members of the Japanese media, replete with television crew.

The reason they had trekked halfway across Wales and were forsaking watching the St Leger, was the presence of one Kosei Miura.

Who I hear you say?

Well Mr Miura is the latest sporting sensation in Japan. Last year, his first year in the saddle saw him ride 39 winners, breaking the record of Yutaka Take.

Back in his homeland he is, according to one of the media guys I was chatting to, treated with the same public adulation and media coverage as David Beckham and Lewis Hamilton combined – in other words he is big.

He was making his UK riding debut at Ffos Las and the Japanese media wanted to ensure the event received maximum coverage back home.

Neil and I were bemused at the attention he was receiving but thought it may make a couple of lines of copy on what looked like being an otherwise dull afternoon.

Miura had only arrived in the UK five days previously and must still have been jet lagged and was attached to Sir Mark Prescott’s Newmarket yard.

Sir Mark explained he had been approached by the Japanese Turf Authority and asked if he would take on one of their promising apprentices for three weeks.

In the few days he had been with Sir Mark, the 19 year old had impressed not only the trainer but all those who had seen him in action on the gallops ……. “a natural talent.”

His one mount was not until race five, the longest race of the afternoon and he was riding Sir Mark’s Royal Diamond.

He emerged from the weighing room with veteran rider Tony Culhane, who put a reassuring arm round the youngsters shoulder as they emerged from the inner sanctum.

He also emerged to a cacophony of camera clicks which he took in his stride.

As they went to post Miura was easily identifiable by his very short stirrups and long reign, he was almost standing in the saddle.

In the race itself he settled Royal Diamond towards the rear and in all honesty it looked like a careful, almost cautious, ride – nothing special at all.

It was in the home straight everything changed. Positioned perfectly and taking cover he slowly edged towards the centre of the course.

Once he had clear daylight ahead, he simply shifted his balance, seeming to be at one with the horse, who responded immediately and eased to the front.

Nothing flash from the rider, seemingly no great effort, just a natural horseman getting the best out of his mount.

He came home the length and a half winner. Some cynics may suggest it was a “jockey’s race” and his weighing room colleagues allowed him an easy win.

That would be grossly unfair to both Miura and the other riders.

It also makes a mockery of what Miura actually did but more of that anon.

Even though his mount was not sent off favourite both horse and rider received a tumultuous reception as they returned to the winner’s enclosure.

After weighing in he returned to the winner’s enclosure and was presented with a bottle of bubbly by the course executive, was interviewed via an interpreter and Sir Mark Precott waxed lyrical, commenting that “unlike most riders, he followed my instructions to the letter.”

It was then the unusual happened.

Normally riders return to the sanctuary of the weighing room after a race.

Miura, instead, came into the press room – it seemed this young lad wanted to be with his compatriots as he “celebrated” his victory.

It was a very revealing twenty minutes. I said earlier he had made the win look effortless … it was an illusion.

He was absolutely shattered after the race and dehydrated in the hot Welsh sun.

What seemed to be an example of a simple synergy between man and beast was, in reality, an exhibition of really hard work and skill – it is just he made it look effortless.

It did not take him long to recover from his exertions though and he was soon giving am impromptu press conference for the Japanese media in the press room.

What struck me was how polite the whole affair was, no media scrum, questions were asked in turn and at the end he was given a spontaneous round of applause.

Once the press conference was over he was happy to relax and chat.

I am ashamed to say his English, whist by no means perfect, is far better than my Japanese but we managed some rudimentary conversation.

He may me a superstar in the eyes of the Japanese media and with the public back home, but I found him to be a very pleasant, likeable, young man, seemingly without arrogance.

It is not very often you will see wizened hacks asking jockeys to sign their racecards, but believe me I was not the only one to obtain his signature, or ask for a photograph for posterity – all of which he did without complaint – although the “price” for mine was being asked to take a group photograph of Miura with the Japanese media contingent.

The hacks and broadcasters who went to Doncaster may well have seen a classic finish to the oldest Classic.

The handful of us who had ventured to Ffos Las were privileged to have witnessed the first UK ride and victory of one Kosei Miura – we were also privileged to have met a really nice guy.

Remember that name as in the not too distant future I predict he will be winning classics himself.

So what looked like being a run of the mill meeting turned out to be something special, one of those “I was there” moments – it is always worth expecting the unexpected.

Disillusioned With Racing

I am about to say something I never thought I would say.


I am falling out of love with racing.


I could quite happily walk away from the sport, never go racing again and it would not worry me one iota.


The last time I felt this way about anything was when I gave up the booze.


I used to drink for England, I virtually lived in the pub. If I missed a night, they would ring to make sure I was OK.


Then one morning I woke up with, as usual, the bird cage bottom mouth, feeling dehydrated, feeling rough and I asked myself why I was doing it?


From that day I went from being a ten unit a day drinker to being a ten unit a year drinker and I have never looked back, never regretted it, certainly not missed it.


With the drinking it was the waking up feeling rough that did it for me.


With the racing it is harder to put my finger on it. There is no one single reason for my disillusionment just a trickle of niggles.


Partly it is the realisation I am getting older and I can’t do the things I did twenty years ago.

Then driving hundreds of miles a day was nothing. Now I am absolutely knackered if I do a 300 mile round trip, do two or three in a week and I am almost done for.


Of course even the shorter journeys are not without their problem – any course that involves having to negotiate the M25 during rush hour automatically increases the stress levels.


That is only a periphery issue though – the racing experience is not as enjoyable as it once was.


Too many meetings fall into one of two depressing categories.


They either have crowds that are so small, the atmosphere – if it can be called an atmosphere in the first place – is depressing.


At a wet, winters Monday afternoon at Wolverhampton small crowds are expected. But when you go to a course like Epsom and it is almost possible to individually greet all your fellow racegoers, it makes you realise something is amiss.


This afternoon at Epsom there were 37 runners and no more than a couple of hundred racegoers – and in a course like Epsom that looks very little indeed.


Read that again – 37 runners and that on a card which had guaranteed prize money of over £54,000 and owners have the temerity to complain about levels of prize money. And that’s another part of the problem, there are too many whingers in the sport but more of that anon.


On the other extreme the courses can be filled with morons who have no interest at all in the racing and their only aim is to pour as much alcohol down their throats as possible, resulting in them becoming obnoxious bores and, as an added bonus, they will throw in a decent punch up as well.


The courses do little to stop the trend, why should they, after all the booze sales are positive goldmines for the courses. I used to hold a licence to sell alcohol and I know from first hand experience it is not only a licence to sell alcohol, it is also a licence to print money.


Lest some poor sop has to queue too long to top up the alcohol levels some courses have big signs encouraging punters to buy their beer in two pint glasses, or they provide mobile vendors to pass amongst the crowd.


And they wonder why new fans cannot be attracted to the sport.


Of course there are fundamental issues with how the sport is run. First of all there is too much racing, spreading the product too thinly.


There are serious and justified concerns around the reduction in the levy, yet what happens the number of fixtures increases so the decreasing money is spread even further.


The influence and power of the bookmakers is spreading like a cancer through the sport.


The more observant will have noticed a sudden increase in eight race cards since the beginning of September. This is not some magical change, it is a change at the request of the bookmakers so they can have more races in which to take money off the mug punters.


More is not better. The races that are being divided are low grade, uncompetitive events.


Take Hereford’s card on September 2nd, one of the first to “benefit” from prolific dividing. Four of the eight races were won my margins of ten lengths or more and the others were 5, 4½, 2 and 1½ lengths – only one of which could really be considered competitive.


There needs to be a significant decrease, not increase, in the amount of racing and that is something I will return to in a future musing.


Earlier I mentioned the number of whingers in the sport.


Wherever you turn there the pessimists whose glasses are always half empty.


Punters who when they have a losing bet, which tends to be most bets, always blame somebody else – usually a “bent” jockey / trainer / horse / official – indeed it is anybodies fault but theirs.

After all heaven forbid their judgement may be wrong and they just happened to have selected the wrong horse.


Of course of the rare occasions they do pick a winner and statistically it will happen once in a while, the result has nothing to do with the skill and ability of the jockey / trainer / horse but it is down to their superb perception, skill and foresight.


Of course it is not all doom and gloom. There are the equine stars which brighten up the otherwise dull firmament.


Sea The Stars has done nothing wrong this season, yet trainer John Oxx comes in for unjustified criticism for not running him in the St Leger, a race that is palpably unsuitable for the horse.


It seems some would rather run the horse into the ground just to claim a meaningless “Triple Crown”.

Greyhound racing used to be a sport for the masses, nowadays it is staged in near empty stadia, run mainly as a benefit and numbers game for the bookmakers.


Racing is in danger of going the same way. I do not want that to happen, it is like watching an old friend go into decline, knowing there is nothing you can do to save it.

Like a passionate affair that has run its course it is better to walk away with dignity and remember the good times – far better than staying and becoming bitter and resentful.

The Ugly Face Of Racing

Much is often made of racecourses which are blessed with being in a really attractive location.


Goodwood, atop the South Downs, with stunning views in all directions – when the fret stays away that is.


Cartmel in its idyllic Lake District setting, Perth set in the grounds of Scone Palace.


The list can go on and on.


But what about the other side of the coin?


What about courses that are in unattractive settings?


By unattractive I don’t mean ugly buildings, like the bland units at Southwell and Wolverhampton. I mean a course set in an unattractive area.


Wolverhampton is situated in the middle of a nondescript housing estate – unattractive but bearable.


For me there is one clear winner, or should that be loser.


Cue drum roll.


Redcar.


It has to be the most depressing approach and setting for a racecourse anywhere, especially if, as
I did yesterday, you arrive by train.


Most arriving by train will come from Darlington and the journey starts off well. Plenty of green fields, as well as the usual views of the back gardens of terraced houses.


I find looking at back gardens from trains so interesting. It tells so much about the residents of the properties.


On the one extreme you have the gardens which have been lovingly tended and which would not go amiss as show gardens.


On the other, there are gardens which make Steptoe’s yard look neat and tidy.


But I digress.


It is when the train begins the final leg of its journey to Redcar – as it leaves Middlesbrough.


Passing, first of all the Stadium Of Light, the last decent structure you will see in your journey.


The vista is no longer predominately green.


First of all you pass through the container port, which looks as though it has seen better days.


Residential buildings are replaced by signs of industry – heavy industry. The predominant colour changes from green to brown and black.


The brown from the predominant, pervasive rust colour that has taken over the myriad of pipes, stretching as far as the eye can see. The black from slag heaps of industrial waste.


All the time industrial chimneys bellowing out goodness knows what noxious substances into the atmosphere.


This view, almost like a vision from hell, goes on for miles, until the urban sprawl of Redcar appears.


The walk from Redcar station to the racecourse goes past Morrisons and Tesco and through a housing estate.


The course itself is not unattractive. The stands have probably seen better days but are no worse than at many courses.


It you crane your neck to the left you can see the hills of the North York moors, but it is the view ahead from the stands that is depressing.


Anyone who has seen racing from Redcar on television will know there is a road and housing estate along the far side of the course. What the pictures usually fail to show id the huge chemical works situated behind the houses. A view that dominates the horizon.


Usually there is a huge flame burning but yesterday all was quiet, well it was initially.


After the second race there was a roar in the distance, almost like the sound of a big gas burner lighting. No surprise as that is exactly what it was – the burner had been lit at the chemical works.


There was also a strong wind blowing across the course, coming from the direction of the chemical works. Not long later what can only be described as an “industrial aroma” wafted over the course. Nothing too strong but it was there.


By the end of the sixth race my eyes were watering and I had a headache, which is most unusual for me.


The only times I get headaches are when I bang my head or, in my younger days, consumed the wrong combination of alcoholic beverages.


As I had neither banged my bonce or imbibed I can only put the headache down to what I was breathing in.


There has been talk of the management wanting to relocate the course to another location – based on my experience yesterday I cannot blame them.


On a totally unrelated topic, although it could be argued it also reflects the “ugly” side of racing.


Am I the only one to find all the blanket, wall to wall, coverage of Kieren Fallon’s return to the saddle somewhat over the top?


Anyone would think it is the second coming, as opposed to the return of a disgraced jockey.

Sense Of Perspective

“That was,” said my wife last Friday morning, “the first time I have ever had three men in my bedroom.”


Before we go any further - if, after reading the opening line, you are expecting some salacious revelation about decadent behaviour in the Home Counties then you may as well go to another page as you are about to be disappointed.


This momentous event is my other half’s life occurred just before three in the morning last Friday.


Two of the men were paramedics and the third was me – being wired up to a heart monitor.


First of all let’s wind the clock back a couple of weeks.


At Royal Ascot I was based in the media centre, a windowless room in the bowels of the grandstand, in which I was surrounded by a number of coughing and spluttering overseas journalists.


Needless to say within a few days I had all the symptoms of ‘flu.


Was it Swine ‘Flu?


Who knows it was impossible to get a definitive answer using the recommended channels, suffice to say the worse was over in a couple of days although I was left feeling very tired ever since.


Life went on as normal, still doing an average of 1,000 miles a week going racing. True I was getting more tired, and more cantankerous and crotchety than usual, but stiff upper lip and all that – just carry on and don’t complain.


Last week began reasonably well, a couple of days off, following three enjoyable days at Ascot.


Wednesday was destined to be a long day, as part of my quest to visit every racecourse in the country each year, it was the turn of Perth – probably the most far flung course from where I live – but manageable as a day trip.


It was a case of the alarm going off at 4:30, eventually falling out of bed at 4:55 and out of the door by 5:15 for what should be a simple 35 minute drive to the airport.


Of course life is not that simple, on arrival at Luton the traffic into the airport was tailed right back to the main road, all thanks to confusion caused by the recently introduced drop-off charge.

In the end I arrived at the terminal building 45 minutes before the flight was due to take off.

Luckily I had already checked in so it was a quick dash upstairs to security only to find an absolutely massive queue.


Luckily at Luton you can pay for fast-track security clearance – probably the best £3 I have spent in a long time. Anyway through security and a quick dash to the gate as the flight was about to board.


I slumped into my seat on the plane – my first chance to relax. After all the rushing the flight actually ended taking off 30 minutes late because of congestion – actually I did not mind that much as I would be arriving in Edinburgh six hours before the first race.


An extra delay coming into Edinburgh, where is was a glorious sunny morning – which makes a change as it usually rains when I go to Perth.


I finally picked up my hire car at 9:00 and thought I would head towards Perth, stopping off at Kinross services for a well deserved breakfast.


After breakfast I thought I would log onto my laptop to check the non-runners and could not believe my eyes when I saw the headline “Perth Abandoned” – I could not believe it.


Up at some ungodly hour, a rush to catch the flight only to find the meeting abandoned due to waterlogging - then to rub salt into the wounds the weather was now gloriously sunny.


To say I was unhappy would be an understatement.


I then contacted Easyjet to find the time of the next flight back to London – if it was early enough I may be able to take in either Goodwood or Sandown. Alas the next flight was 18:20, only 1½ hours before the flight I was already booked on.


So there I was stuck in Scotland with still near on eight hours to kill.


I was able to catch the 18:20 flight so was home by 20:30 – some 15 hours after I left home, having wasted a whole day, not to mention the cost of flights, car hire and parking and absolutely shattered – at least I slept well.


Thursday was a “routine” day with racing at the relatively close Stratford.


Thursday evening was relaxing , a lovely meal for two then almost falling asleep in the chair and, because I was so tired, a relatively early night – in bed just after ten and asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.


It was around 2:30 that I woke up – feeling incredibly dry – mouth and throat like the bottom of a birdcage. That feeling you have in the morning after a heavy drinking session the night before – only this time I had not been drinking.


Of course Sods Law dictates this would be the one night I don’t have any water by the bed. So I go downstairs grab a bottle of water, bring it up to the bedroom. Only to find the walk back up the stairs had left me breathless.


Mental note to me – get some more exercise.


Take a swig of water, lie back down – next thing I know I can hardly breathe and there is an elephant standing in the middle of my chest.


I sit up in bed and my other half stirs.


“Are you alright?” she asks.


With typical British understatement I reply, “um no, not really, would you mind ringing for an ambulance please.” I was always bought up to say please and thank you.


And that is why my wife had three men in her bedroom on Friday morning.


So what does this have to do with racing I hear you ask?


Well an experience like that one does tend to concentrate the mind and puts things like racing into perspective.


Like what really is the point of trying to visit every UK race course at least once during the year?


What does it achieve, what does it prove?


Yep, absolutely nothing, except perhaps I have more money than sense.


What is the point of driving 1,000 miles a week just to go racing?


None whatsoever if you try and rationalise it.


It has certainly reminded me, forcibly, I am no spring chicken and I do not have the same stamina and energy I had, twenty, ten, even five years ago.


Most of all it bought home to me that racing is only a sport, OK a bloody enjoyable one, but only a sport nonetheless and despite what the late, great Bill Shankley suggested – it ain’t more important than life or death and it certainly worth killing yourself for.


It puts the sport into perspective.