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.

A Matter Of Discipline

Corruption – not the prettiest of words, but a word that has been to the fore in recent weeks with several high profile disciplinary panels sitting and pronouncing.


Their verdicts have been nothing, if not, controversial and have posed more questions than answers.


The biggest anomaly has been the varying punishments handed out.


Trainer Karl Burke has been handed one year disqualification for associating with a disqualified individual. The disciplinary panel verdict makes good reading and one can see, and agree, with their reasoning and the punishment handed out.


Contrast Burkes punishment to that handed down to jockey Fergal Lynch. A jockey who admitted throwing races, in most eyes one of the most heinous crimes in the sport, outside being cruel to horses. Yet he was able to ‘plea bargain’ a, or him, modest fine and a informal agreement not to ride in this country for a year.


Yet he was, until the US authorities intervened, able to continue his career overseas. His “punishment” made an absolute mockery of the disciplinary process. He should have faced a “minimum” worldwide ban from all aspects of racing for five years and when that ban was over still never be able to ride for life.


Paul Struthers who is the BHA’s official spokesman, who must surely have one of the most difficult and unenviable jobs in PR, says the BHA are currently reviewing the penalty structure – and not before time.


However reviewing the structure is one thing, implementing it is another.


Disciplinary hearings are heard by independent panels who, even now, err on the side of extreme caution and frequently come in with punishments below the recommended entry points.


Yes the authorities are in a difficult position.


We are now living in a society where litigation is commonplace and those facing bans which will effectively deprive them of their livelihoods, will fight such decisions in the courts – after all what have they to lose?


The authorities, reluctant to incur costs or attract bad publicity, will then fight shy of legal action and compromise.


Therein lies a vicious circle.


The answer. Review the rules and punishments, ensuring they are fair and the punishment fits the crime. Also ensure the penalties are legally enforceable taking into account relevant legislation.


Ensure there is a fair an open disciplinary process. I am not advocating public hearings but allow a press presence – it can be a single pooled reporter to prevent the hearing becoming some form of freak show – with reporting being on the same basis as criminal cases to protect all parties.


Allow an adequate appeals process.


When due process is complete, if the individual then wants to take legal action it should be challenged and fought all the way by the authorities.


If the process is correct and the punishment deemed appropriate by the authorities then they should have nothing to fear, it should stand up to scrutiny in the courts. By standing up to and contesting such actions it will send out the message the authorities mean business. It will only need one or two failed court actions by corrupt trainers or jockeys for the message to be clearly sent out that corruption will not be tolerated.


In this mornings Racing Post I read the Racecourse Association Chief Executive, Stephen Atkins, is suggesting racecourses should take responsibility for integrity. I have never heard such a half baked suggestion and if that is the sort of suggestion emerging from the racecourses then I despair for the future of the sport.


Integrity is the responsibility of the central authority, in this case the BHA. Having different courses looking after integrity would be farcical.


Atkins has already admitted it could be “more cost-effective” for that read lower priority.


Racecourses already employ Clerks Of Courses and we already know the pressure they come under to race at almost all costs – regardless of the integrity and safety of the course.


Most Clerks will admit, off the record of course, they come under pressure to race when the decisions are borderline. After all it is financially better for the courses to get one race run, thus avoiding the need to refund customers, than to abandon before racing.


Can you imagine a similar scenario with integrity – would a particular course want the stigma of having an iffy race run on their track? Would they turn a blind eye to borderline infringements?

For all its faults I would much rather have integrity controlled, managed and financed centrally.

A Logistical Nightmare

In terms of racing I like to set myself some challenges each year and a regular one is to try and visit every UK racecourse at least once every calendar year.

After all, as I write reviews of courses it is only fair to visit them all as often as possible.

It sounds easy on paper, just over sixty courses works out at just over one and a bit a week.

If only it were that easy.

I have just spent the best part of a week sorting out my racing for the remainder of the year and to fit in the 22 outstanding courses I still have to visit in 2009.

The first priority planning is to put in the “must do’s” i.e. Cheltenham Festival, Derby meeting, Royal Ascot etc.

The second consideration is that Mother Nature will do her utmost to thwart your plans.

In 2008 I failed to reach my goal by one – York, whose August meeting was rained off and, due to drainage work, the latter meetings in 2008 had been transferred elsewhere, so I had no fallback.

So when planning the trips I make sure the first planned trip to a course is not their last scheduled meeting of the year, because if it is called off your plans are stuffed.

What I then try and do is fit in the courses with very few meetings.

Cartmel, for example, has only six meetings a year and it would be a travesty to miss out on a visit there, having said that it has now become a tradition that we go to Cartmel’s opening evening meeting.

The next big problem is the travel logistics – obviously it is a bit silly planning Newcastle one day then Newton Abbot the next.

What I attempt to do with the more “far flung” courses is find dates when nearby courses are racing on consecutive days. For example in May, Newton Abbot had a Tuesday evening meeting and Exeter, a few miles down the road was racing the following afternoon.

This weekend there is racing at Ripon on Saturday and Redcar on Sunday, so another handy double header.

I really thought I had hit the jackpot when I saw there was one day where Hexham had an afternoon meeting and Newcastle had a meeting the very same evening, only to be deflated when I realised it was the same day as the Epsom Derby.

The Scottish tracks throw up their own unique challenges in that not only do I have to slot them into the calendar, I also have to try and find cheap flights which fit in with the race times. Very tricky in the summer when the later race times leave little time to get back to the airport for the last flight of the day.

Indeed it was a Scottish course, Hamilton, that has caused me the most angst in my latter 2009 planning.

Despite my earlier comment about avoiding the final meeting of the season my visits to Hamilton, the last few years, have tended to be to their finale meeting at the end of September.

This year I cannot attend the finale meeting due to a previous commitment, so it was a case of going to one of the others.

Was it simple?

Was it heck!!!

Indeed had I any remaining hair I would have pulled it out. On paper it looked easy – there were eight alternate meetings.

Of those, five were evening meetings, not really practical when you live 340 miles away. Of the three remaining meetings one was only two weeks away and therefore impossible to get any cheap flights or trains and both the others clashed with pre-arranged family events.

Eventually I decided one of the pre-arranged family events would have to be missed – not a popular decision but c’est le vie and at least I managed to book a cheap flight.

Other unforeseen factors can screw the planning as well.

It was just my luck to pick up a dose of ‘flu after Ascot and that resulted in having to miss three visits to courses for the first time in 2009. All of which had to be slotted in on other dates.

Just moving those three days resulted in twelve other race meeting visits having to be switched.

Of course there are occasions when cancellations can work to your advantage.

With the decimation of turf racing in January it meant I managed to get all the all-weather courses done and dusted by the end of January. With the added bonus that I actually, unintentionally, attended what looks like being Great Leighs final meeting.

So when you read the up to date course reviews on my web site (www.ors-racing.co.uk) , or follow the live updates from the track, please spare a though for the behind the scenes traumas that took place in planning the visits.

Must Try Harder

It has not been a particularly good week for racing, with ice cream Gate at Salisbury, the farcical water situation at Worcester and the Nicky Henderson doping enquiry result.

Now we have whinging bookmakers, i.e. Coral, throwing their toys out of the pram complaining the publication of the Henderson verdict overshadowed their sponsorship of the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown on Saturday.

First of all Simon Clare says, "Not only as the sponsor of the Eclipse, but also as an organisation which has been working really hard with other factions in racing in this re-branding exercise, it was gutting and galling to find that coverage on the day of what was arguably the biggest Flat race in Britain this year was decimated because of information disseminated by the governing body.

"We have got a great relationship with the BHA, and have already had conversations with them about it, and hard to believe though it may be, they do claim that under the current disciplinary system, because it is an independent judicial process, they cannot control the timing."

Then a Coral employee, James Knight, goes onto one of the leading racing forums and actually suggests the BHA should have deliberately delayed publication of the report until the Monday morning after the Eclipse.

What he is, in effect, saying is coverage of a race his organisation have so generously deemed to sponsor is far more important than publishing a report that is central to the integrity of the sport.

It is perhaps unfair to single out Coral for criticism, however the comments of both Clare and Knight underline the arrogance of bookmakers and their perceived self importance within the sport.

It doesn’t help we only have a single industry paper, the Racing Post, and the editorial team are very much in the pocket of the bookmakers and are very loath to criticise them unless they absolutely have to.

As one of the PR representatives of the big bookmakers once said, “the (Racing) Post need our advertising money to survive, they are not going to upset the apple cart.”

Even Paul Struthers the BHA Spokesman said, “We always try and avoid announcing these results ahead of big events.”

Why?

Surely announcing the findings of a hearing which involves the integrity of the sport is far more important than a “big event”.

If publishing the results of enquiries are considered less important than, say The Eclipse, what sort of message does this send out?

Are we seriously supposed to find it acceptable for the issuing of “bad news” to be buried or deferred, so not as to offend the sensibilities of the sponsor of a particular race?

As for Simon Clare’s crocodile tears, would he have made a similar utterance had Saturday’s race been the William Hill Eclipse?

I somehow suspect not, although I also suspect if that were the case then it would be David Hood making similar utterances.

Now bookmakers, for better or worse, have an integral role in our sport, however contrary to what they may think they are not the be all and end all.

Their influence is disproportionate to their actual significance.

Their relationship with the authorities and large sectors of the media is far too cosy, one hopes the Gambling Commission will look at the cosy relationships that exist.

The findings of the Henderson case is very important for the industry. It needs to be discussed both in the racing and wider press.

The findings are also interesting and pose more questions than they answer. The implication is the mis-use of drugs is more widespread than is being admitted.

The role of the vet in this matter is also an area requiring greater investigation.

This is the perfect opportunity for the BHA to grab the nettle and be seen to be making a serious attempt to clean up the sport.

However I am not hopeful.

Jon Ryan, the BHA Director of Communications, speaking of the vets involvement, told the Racing Post, “There will not be a targeting of any yards where Mr Main is the vet.

"The proof in the Henderson case came as a result of a random test.

"Chasing possible skeletons in cupboards would not be beneficial - the proof required for a disciplinary hearing would not be there because you need a positive test to start proceedings."

What absolute rubbish. Yards should be visited at random, records checked and samples taken, if the tests prove negative fine. If they prove positive then the BHA have the evidence to start proceedings.

Comments like Ryan’s throw doubts on the seriousness of the BHA to address the issue head on.

How many more integrity hearings are we going to have to sit through before the BHA stop taking a namby pamby approach and address the issues head on?