​Warthog died last Saturday.
To the owner, so soon after the horse proved his detractors so wrong by winning a big sponsored handicap chase in front of the television cameras at Cheltenham, it must have been a body-blow. To the trainer likewise. To Warthog’s groom, and her colleagues, many of whom would have ridden the big grey at home, it would have been a punch to the heart. It does not lesson the tragedy that it is very unusual for a horse to suffer a fracture between the first two fences, especially as he jumped the first fence perfectly well or that he walked into the horse ambulance and was administered to quickly and by experienced vets, his suffering lessened through exact professional care. He died after a lifetime’s love and care. And as with all racehorses, I would hope, which is not the case with all animals around the world, he will both mourned by the good people at Pond House and remembered fondly in the years to come.
Of course, if we could avoid equine deaths the sport would move mountains to bring that utopia to fruition. It maddens me, for example, when it is proved through scientific study that horses cannot see the colour orange, that time continues to pass and the take-off boards, guard-rails and tops of hurdles have yet to change to a colour horses can differentiate from the colour of the fence or hurdle. This ground-breaking, game-changing, research needed to be fast-tracked onto the racecourse and schooling grounds. That racecourse obstacles remain tainted with orange discredits the B.H.A. and dishonours the reputation of trainers for allowing the sport’s protectors and governing authority to drag their feet on a matter of the highest importance to the sport’s boast that equine welfare is its greatest concern.
As the circumstances behind the death of Warthog reminds us, it will always be impossible to reach a figure of zero fatalities within the sport, as some politicians have advocated. And if you are one of those clever-asses who pipe-up and say ‘ban the sport and zero per-cent will be achieved overnight’, I say ‘well what about the many thousands of horses who overnight will be rendered as defunct as plough-horses when tractors were introduced? You think wrongly if you believe the redundant Shires and Suffolk Punches lived out their lives to extreme old age in buttercup patterned pasture.
Our sport reveres the thoroughbred. With the exception of the Queen and Winston Churchill, I suspect there are more statues in honour of racehorses in this country than any human being and all other animals put together. People dedicate their lives to the sport. I have known people take the blankets and duvets off their own beds to ensure a horse is kept warm on a cold night. Because of this dedication to the horse, many thousands of people earn their living caring for the thoroughbred. It is a sport and an industry combined which without fail puts the interests of the horse central and foremost.
But let’s not beat about the bush, sweet-coat the truth as if day-by-day the sport is varnished with lashings of ‘Black Beauty’ and ‘My Sweet Pony’: it can be a savage-hard sport at times. I imagine, like me, the 1973 Grand National is high on everyone’s list of racing’s greatest moments. Yet ask David Gandolfo or anyone connected to Grey Sombrero and their opinion will be vastly different. They might wish the race had suffered the same fate of ‘the Grand National that never was’. The reason the majority of racing people are level-headed, respectful and well-mannered, is because the horse takes no prisoners. A horse will as likely bite the Queen as the farrier, kick its devoted groom as likely as it to kick a random passer-by. And anyone associated with racing from a young age also knows that the highs are disproportionate to the lows, that celebrations for the good moments only last for hours, while the lows of losing or losing forever a revered friend, human or equine, may last a lifetime.
The industry focus on the small percentage of annual fatalities on British racecourses, yet the actual number may be something like 173. That remains, if you picture them lined up in a row, a mortality rate similar to a 1st World War battlefield. Obviously, there is no complacency when it comes to fatalities; everyone involved in the sport would like to see the number spiralling towards the magical if not mythical zero. Not that it will ever be achieved, not in anyone’s lifetime, sadly. Yet one death is one too many. We are all aware of that.
To me, and this is a personal reflection, part of the appeal of the sport, especially steeplechasing, is that it is glimpse of how life used to be in centuries past, when the horse was the turning-wheel of society. I am not an advocate of hunting fox or stag for so-called sport, nor would I want to return to using horses for transport, but where else in our modern world will you see horse and human in harmony, as a team, but in equine sports? Yes, I would limit the use of the whip, and yes, I accept it causes no pain to the horse when used to encourage, though psychologically I believe it can do great harm to a horse. But in the great scheme of things the racing of horses, with all the accepted dangers it entails, is a beautiful spectacle for mankind to behold, a levelling playing field where the animal is equal to, if not above, the human, and is an essential benefit in the preservation of the equine species.
The sport, and the people who comprise the industry, deserve great praise for valuing the horse as at least its equal. If every animal around the world was equally valued there would less of them endangered, and perhaps fewer rendered extinct. 

​My fascination with horse racing began when very young. How young I cannot fully recall, though no more than ten or eleven, perhaps a few years earlier. My first vivid recollection of those early days is not focused on any particular horse or jockey but the opening credits of Grandstand and the revolving lens of a television camera in which were snippets of the sports featuring in that Saturday’s transmission. The first colours I recall were that of the Macdonald-Buchanan’s, white with black armbands or something similar. I have it mind that the jockey riding in those silks that day was Jimmy Lindley, though could have been anyone from the mid 1960’s.
It has to be said I had no connection with either horses or racing, though I dare say my father might have had an annual bet on the Grand National, people did in those days. Not that I remember him ever winning. Yet for an obscure reason, even though, as I know now, I had limited idea of the hows, whys and wherefores of the sport, no doubt thinking horses to be indestructible beasts that went on forever, I was consumed by the moving pictures that came via the black and white television, with Saturday afternoon becoming my own personal Sabbath, as it remains.
Back then, and for a couple of decades after, I shared my love of the sport between both codes, even if the holiest of my holy Saturdays was the day of the Grand National. Always was, always will be. I don’t think, even though I remember running home from school to watch Arkle win one of his three Gold Cups, I even realised the significance of the Cheltenham Festival, even though it was staged not that far from my Bristol home.
I have written in the past that the first horse to take up residence in my heart was Spanish Steps, as, going by the evidence provided by the contacts to this site, he did for so many other people, but, having given the matter a good deal of thought and remembrance, it must have been Mill House as one of the few memories I have of my childhood is insisting to my father that he would beat Arkle in this race or that and the feeling of inadequacy on my part when ‘Himself’ proved his supremacy time and time again. Like many people, I might even have shed a tear when Mill House regained the winning thread when winning the Whitbread Gold Cup. Incidentally, if anyone is in any doubt of Arkle’s status as the greatest racehorse (not just steeplechaser) of all-time, remember that Fulke Walwyn, the trainer of Mill House, the Paul Nicholls of his day, had no hesitation in naming Mill House as the best he ever trained.
It was, though, for many, many years, Spanish Steps who resided alone in my heart, the little horse who turned-up for every major steeplechase, winning a few, including a Hennessey, and running gallantly to be placed in most of the others, beating the track record for the time in the Grand National when chasing home Red Rum, giving him 21Ibs, Crisp and L’Escargot. I still believe that Crisp’s performance that day was the greatest I have ever witnessed. If you disagree with me just answer this: could any horse of any era give 23Ibs to Red Rum at Aintree? Crisp came within a whisker of achieving the impossible and to this day Richard Pitman blames himself for the defeat.
My fascination, and devotion, to this sport lies not with the potential it allows for winning huge dollops of money from bookmakers, but because of the golden memories it provides. If I have bad day, or just need a cheery moment, I will watch again Sprinter Sacre winning the 2016 Champion Chase, perhaps the only race, with the possible exception of the 2019 Ryanair, to rival the 1973 Grand National in my eyes as the most momentous race of my lifetime. Or Desert Orchid winning the Gold Cup, or Kauto Star winning the first of his Betfairs (for some reason I rate that higher than either of his Gold Cups or King Georges) or Denman’s awesome display when winning his Gold Cup. I still believe that if it wasn’t for his heart problem it would be Denman who would stand second to Arkle in the pantheon of all-time best chasers.
Horse racing, at least in my understanding, is a mixture of hard reality and fluffy-cloud fantasy, with the former usually winning out over the latter. Which, of course, is why it is so life-affirming when Sprinter Sacre wins back his 2-mile Champion crown or when Bryony humbles us all by winning the Ryanair on the horse who presently resides in my heart, Frodon. I understand why people bet on the sport and its hand-in-glove relationship with the sport. But to me, financial investment in a race spoils the spectacle. I don’t want a horse to fall so that I can beat the bookie. On this site I occasionally give my views on a big race and sometimes my judgement is correct and sometimes it is not. I believe, for instance, that Frodon, given the opportunity, will get the trip in the Gold Cup, even though his trainer, along with the majority, I suspect, is doubtful. Not that I shall invest money on him if he does run on the Friday.
The fascination is the wonder of the sport, the memories stored away in random order to flicker on to the mind’s eye when inspiration or a better mood is required. The sport has rarely failed to lift my spirits. I have made sacrifices for it, allowed its importance to me to cloud my judgement and if reincarnation is fact and not fiction, I hope in the next life I could come back as a groom or even a racehorse. From childhood it has always been there for me, if only latterly through the medium of television and the Racing Post. And on the last day of my life, as sure as eggs are eggs, either here or in Ireland, at a Leopardstown or Cheltenham, a Down Royal or Hexham, a horse or jockey will add one final memory to the treasure trove.

​Isn’t it life-affirming when someone who knows what they are talking about says publicly exactly what you have said yourself a few minutes previously? When this occurs twice within a single day’s racing the only word to describe the sensation is ‘cock-a-hoop’. Well my cock was very much hooped, or my hoop was very much cocked, when Mick Fitzgerald, a man I have never maligned, advised Millie Wonnacott that she should grasp the nettle and turn professional. I said the very same as she jumped the last upsides Derek O’Connor at Doncaster yesterday, repeating what I had said to myself when she won on Fingerontheswitch at Kempton a couple of weekends previously.
My sentiments after the Cotswold Chase were also echoed by Mick Fitzgerald, in that Santini looks more like a National winner, Scottish or Irish rather than Aintree, I suspect, than he does a Cheltenham Gold Cup winner. Although I respect Nicky Henderson’s view that Santini will improve enormously for his spin around Prestbury Park, the fact is he beat five horses who have little or no chance of winning at Cheltenham in March. Bristol de Mai is a splendid racehorse but he just does not get up the Cheltenham hill, as is the case with so many good 3-mile chasers. And I must admit to being disappointed by the performance of de Rasher Counter as I thought he might improve into a Gold Cup contender, which on Saturday’s form he obviously is not.
Paisley Park, on the hand, was peerless, his cocked ears in the final furlong a flag to his superiority. He may get beat in the Stayers Hurdle but it will not be by a horse trained this side of the Irish Sea. In the sporting sense it is nothing short of scandalous that Willie Mullins is not seriously considering running Benie Des Dieux in the Stayers. What is the point of throwing six-figure prize-money at championship races if these races do not attract the very best horses? In the case of Benie Des Dieux, and all mares, it is not as if they do not have a clear advantage with Paisley Park who will have to give the Mullins mare the 5lbs mares allowance. To discourage connections taking the easy option with top-class mares, the conditions for the Mares Hurdle should dictate that Grade 1 winners should receive a 10Ib penalty or something along those lines. It is quite ridiculous that the best horse at Closutton is not going to run in one of the top races of the meeting. And it is not as if Willie Mullins does not have other top-notch contenders for the Mares Hurdle.
If Cheltenham goes ahead with its plan – I received an e-mail from the secretary of Simon Claisse that assures me that Cheltenham have no plans to increase the Festival to five days. Yes, I laughed, too. – it has to ensure that the top races attract the very best available horses and to achieve this they must come up with a cunning plan to dissuade owners and trainers from taking easier options with their top horses.
‘Trials Day’, in my opinion, needs the Haydock Champion Hurdle Trial to be re-routed to Cheltenham. What is the point of a designated trial for Champion Hurdle type horses at a track so different from where the actual Champion Hurdle is to be run, and on ground that any time of the year can be heavy to the point of unraceable?
If there was a future big-race winner on parade on Saturday I would suggest it is most likely to be the erstwhile disappointing O K Corral who I thought most impressive in winning in Sky Bet race at Doncaster, a race that in my heart will always be known as the Great Yorkshire, a race title that has gravitas and no little history.
Staying with O K Corral. Derek O’Connor dropped his whip after the last fence, which to my eyes only goes to prove that jockeys, and the betting public, rely far too much on the ‘old larrup’ to get the best out of a horse in a close finish. Also, on a similar subject, the stewards at Doncaster held an enquiry into Derek O’Connor’s use of his hand, using it to slap his mount behind the saddle, instinctively, I suppose. Quite what impact this would have had on his mount is hard to judge, virtually zero I guess in comparison to being struck with the whip. Once again it was an example of nonsense stewarding, in line with the notorious statement made last year by someone at the B.H.A. that horses should always run through their own free-will. Remember, when Henry Oliver committed the ‘outrage’ of waving his arms to persuade a horse with a reputation for not consenting to race to start when the tapes went up. A gesture that even Animal Aid could find no fault with.

​I will not disparage the reputation of the current head honcho of the B.H.A., Nick Rust. Those in a better position to pass judgement on his tenure as head of British Racing (if he’s the top man what exactly is the role of Anne-Marie Phillips?) have passed favourable comments on him since he announced that he is stepping down from his post at the end of the year.
The people who speak most highly of him are the heads of racing’s varying quangos, horse racing’s stakeholders. On balance, from my point of view, he has manfully held together a crew who all think they should have possession of the charts and the sextants. It is good for all of us that the racing sphere is not flat, otherwise the sport would have tilted over the edge many moons past.
Those with qualifications about Nick Rust’s achievements are the horseman, those within the industry who must follow the B.H.A.’s rule of law, the people who perhaps know far more about the day-to-day workings of the sport, trainers, their staff and jockeys, than the whole of the B.H.A. board-members, and whose opinions are either the last to be sought or not sought altogether.
What I find disappointing with the leading candidates to replace Nick Rust, as drawn-up by the Racing Post, is that not one of them has actual hands-on experience of working with racehorses. In fact, not one member of the B.H.A. hierarchy has earned a living either as a professional rider, caring for racehorses or training them. I realise the B.H.A. is an administrative organisation, where emphasis is on the commercial side of the sport but that should not prevent someone from the horse side of the sport from being at the very least a candidate. Many of the problems the B.H.A. have brought upon themselves over the past decade would have been prevented if someone with first-hand knowledge of the workaday of the sport was at the head of the organisation. At times, frankly, some of the stuff that has come from the B.H.A. in the past few years has been nothing short of embarrassing.
On the whole I think the B.H.A. is pretty useless and I would very much like Nick Rust’s successor to radically change my opinion.
 
In today’s Racing Post there is a piece on the ‘galloping gardener’, Mick Jeffries, who returned to race-riding, aged 56, twenty or so years after his last race-ride. This brought about the idea that there must be hundreds, if not a thousand, ex jockeys and stable staff out in the wilderness, who might also be tempted back to the sport, if only in a small way, if there were the occasional race, perhaps held for charitable purposes, for such people. If say only twenty to thirty people put themselves forward for these races (who can foretell how many would be interested?) for whatever period of time it took for them to get fit, lose weight, etc, they would be invaluable extra hands for all those trainers short of staff. It is, as far as I see it, a win-win idea. I am not talking about ‘legends races’ but those like Mick Jeffries, jockeys who did not leave their mark on the sport.
 
The proposal, if that is what it is, to extend the Cheltenham Festival to five days is steadily growing in support, with both Alan King and Phillip Hobbs coming out in support. As many has said, financial considerations will almost certainly determine that it will happen sooner or later. As I have written only recently, I am in favour of the meeting becoming five days but would prefer the fifth day to be a non-Festival day, much in the way Royal Ascot used to finish with what was termed a ‘Heath Day, when Royal Ascot returned to being the less grand Ascot Heath.
This fifth day would allow Cheltenham to trial any proposed new race for the Festival’s four days and give a resting place for any race relegated from the main event. There are other benefits to my suggestion, though I’ll leave the reader to review the January archive to find out what I believe them to be.
My ‘Heath day’ suggestion is a compromise between those who want 4 and those who champion 5-days and it is also a compromise between those who champion new races and those who do not want to lose the historic old races. I live in hope of someone in the media coming on-side and at least floating the idea, if only to discover if I am not alone.

​It was the choice of the headline writer at the Racing Post to suggest that where Frodon was concerned ‘All Options Are Open’, and I dare say it is not his job (a woman would have read the piece before deciding on the headline) to actually read what came after the headline. Because if you read Paul Nicholl’s comments it is clear that the Ryanair remains his preferred option for Frodon and that all this talk of going for the Gold Cup is nought but a distraction.
Now, when it comes to making correct decisions Paul Nicholls has a lead over me that if I was a horse in a horse race the jockey would be compelled to pull me up. He is nearly a genius (the word genius is so overworked these days that the accolade that accompanies it is almost meaningless) whilst I am according to the evidence a right numpty. I did, though, in defence of myself, tip Clan des Obeaux to win the King George, when Paul Nicholls nailed his colours to Cyrname. So that’s one for me, at least.
But to return to Frodon. I may be in a majority of one but I think, at Cheltenham at least, there is every chance Frodon will stay the 3-mile 2-furlongs, if the ground is anywhere close to good. On soft ground I might revise my opinion, not because he doesn’t act on it, he does, but it could nullify his greatest asset, his exuberant jumping. Did you see him at Kempton at the fence opposite where the camera was sited? He spots the wings of the fence, drops his head, measures his stride and accelerates into it with the alacrity I display when going to the fridge. One of the greatest thrills in all sport is to see a horse enjoying the task.
My arguments for having a crack at the Gold Cup are thus: his owner is not getting any younger and if he craves a runner in the Gold Cup surely it has to be sooner rather than later and it must be with Frodon as he is highly unlikely to own a better horse. Least ways, he hasn’t in fifty years of owning racehorses.
Although it is unarguable that there are half-a-dozen horses in the Gold Cup that on ratings are better than Frodon, not all of them, though, are thorough stayers, some of which have failed in years past to get up the Cheltenham hill. Of course, Frodon might also crumble up that unforgiving climb to the winning post but as yet the hill has not beaten him. The top Gold Cup horses also keep beating each other, with very few of them with impressive numbers after their names on race-cards. With hand on heart can anyone say that Al Boum Photo, as impressive as he was last year, has the make and look of a serial Gold Cup winner? He has won his Gold Cup, now it is the turn of another horse.
At Haydock, and I am pleased that Paul Nicholl’s has admitted to getting the tactics wrong, it appeared as if Frodon didn’t stay, yet he has won over very nearly the Gold Cup distance at Cheltenham – the Cotswold Chase – out-staying genuine stayers. Frodon is a terrier in equine form. If he stays, he stays, if he doesn’t there is not a tactic devised that will help him. Jump off handy, let his jumping get him to the head of affairs and never give back the lengths he gains at his obstacles. At Cheltenham it is possible to give a horse a breather before filling their lungs for the homeward climb. If Frodon doesn’t stay 3-miles plus, then all I can say, to paraphrase David Elsworth, is that he stayed it better than those who finished behind him in the Cotswold Chase.
Also, it’s not as if the Ryanair would be a cakewalk for him. He’s not even the ante-post favourite. And the race will be there for him next season if everyone is right and he doesn’t stay the Gold Cup distance. Not that I can understand everyone’s certainty on the matter. As the form-book proves, there is a win over very nearly the Gold Cup distance, at Cheltenham, to suggest it is a very good possibility he will last home up the hill.
And having referenced David Elsworth: he alone thought Desert Orchid would stay 3-miles. He alone thought he would stay 3-miles 2-furlongs in heavy ground, and possibly he alone thought he would win an Irish National under top-weight. Very few thought Crisp could carry 12-stone to victory in the Grand National. He didn’t, obviously, though not even Arkle could have given all that weight to Red Rum at Aintree.
Finally, when trainers make such decisions, I believe they have a responsibility to the sport as well as to the horse and its owner. The Cheltenham Gold Cup can only gain in marketing and publicity if Frodon and Bryony Frost were in the line-up. In winning the Ryanair, a race no one outside of the sport has heard of, she was on the front page of the Times. Imagine the ballyhoo if Frodon actually won the Cheltenham Gold Cup!

​Do you remember the day George Baker, trained by George Baker was ridden by George Baker? A one-off bit of fun that doubtless will never be repeated.
What will be repeated, sadly, as the sport of horse racing is as dangerous an occupation as bull-fighting is to the bull, is that one jockey or another will suffer a serious injury sooner or later, as happened to George Baker at St.Moritz in Switzerland one quiet Sunday in February 2017.
If anyone wants to get up to speed with his accident, and subsequent recovery, I heartily recommend his autobiography ‘Taking My Time’. In fact, I’ll go out on a limb and say it is the most readable and interesting biography of a flat jockey of recent times. Look, the biographies of Sir Gordon Richards, Rae Johnstone, Charlie Elliott etc, will always have greater interest simply because their careers were before the time of anyone of pensionable age and because of it these books are as much history books as they are racing books, allowing the reader an insight into the sport and a time long gone. But of all the more recently published biographies of flat jockey ‘Taking My Time’ is, in my estimation, by far the best.
Being largely, accept where animals in general and horses are particular are concerned, quite a cold and dispassionate sort of curmudgeon, I am rarely shocked by anything I read or see on the telly but one paragraph in the final chapter, ‘A Slightly Changed Man’, caught me by surprise. For many months after the accident George was in no fit state to be ‘in charge of anything’ and as neither his own nor his wife’s current accounts amounted to much, his wife, Nicola was having to use George’s credit cards to pay household bills. It seemed reasonable to expect the bank to release some of the money in George’s other accounts to make life easier for her. Not only did she have her husband in hospital but she had a small baby to care for, not that her local bank cared much for her difficulties as they would not even talk to her, let alone help. So, accumulating more expense, she had to acquire a power of attorney. I hope the Bakers changed banks once the tide had turned and they had time to breathe again. Their insurance company was equally unhelpful, apparently. They were also in the process of selling their house and because it was in George’s name, she was not legally entitled to sign any paperwork! There are bastards in this world and then there are the financial institutions.
For obvious reasons half of this book is taken over by the accident and George’s road to recovery. What shines through from the moment it was clear that his injuries were far from ordinary, was the way, and in complete contrast to how his bank and insurance company behaved, his friends and the racing community rallied around to help first his wife and then George himself. For example, within three hours of Nicola receiving the call from George’s agent, Jamie Osborne, the trainer of the horse George was riding at St. Moritz, had organised for her to be on flight to Switzerland and she was at his bedside before the end of the afternoon.
What also comes from this book is honesty. At no point does George, or his co-writer Tom Peacock, ask the reader to pity George. In fact, as insights into serious brain injuries go, this is a very informative book. And as he has made a more than partial recovery, which in the early days seemed, to his many friends, unlikely, it is a book high on hope for anyone who is presently having to cope with loved-ones in a similar desperate situation.
You’ll doubtless find the book on either the Racing Post or Injured Jockeys Fund (from where I bought the book) websites. Not only is it a good read, I’m sure George is in need of the royalties. Well, whether he is need of them or not, he deserves his book to sell well. 

​It is a good job for the B.H.A. vet sent to inspect Altior that this minor league farrago erupted in early January and not late February when Nicky Henderson goes teetotal for the month leading up to Cheltenham, otherwise the master of Seven Barrows might not have been so welcoming. I thought it an insult to the integrity of the man that the B.H.A. should even consider he had ulterior motives in declaring Altior a non-runner without actually proceeding to immediately scratch the horse. Horses can be like children – at death’s door one night and out causing mischief the next. He wanted to run Altior even though his instincts were suggesting it would be unwise. The great trainers take decisions through a combination of experience and an intelligence of equines that is pure instinct. As always, as it should be, Henderson was putting the welfare of the horse before all other considerations.
As Alan Hanson was once famous for saying when analysing defenders, indecision is final and I believe Altior’s season which is very much on the back foot might have been otherwise if Nicky Henderson had taken my advice and run Altior over 3-miles at the end of last season. If he had done so, and many times my advice has proved as sound as a pound, he would have started this season knowing whether to stick to 2-miles or go up in distance. As the situation is of now, he has probably come to the right decision to stay at 2-miles, even if the Champion 2-mile Chase could be far hotter this season than in the previous two seasons. What I hope he will decide to do though after Cheltenham is to run Altior at Aintree over 3-miles, if only to put the debate to bed once and for all.
 
Without providing a solution, the Racing Post today highlighted the financial and career difficulties of those jockeys who have become known as ‘journeymen’. There will always be jockeys who struggle to make a living, as in the real world, and in other sports, there are those who fate deals a good hand and they take full advantage, whilst others either fail to take advantage of the good hand or who fate refuses to give an even break to. That doesn’t mean, though, that the B.H.A. can ignore their plight. The Irish racing authorities, where the situation is perhaps even worse for the ‘journeymen’, though they choose to give a helping hand.
Since the days of the old Sporting Life, I have suggested there should be two or three races per week, flat and National Hunt, restricted to jockeys who have ridden less than a certain number of winners in the past six or twelve months. This number could be ten or fifteen at the start of a season and incrementally increasing as the season progresses. Such an initiative would come at no cost to racing’s finances as the races already exist and only need restrictions on jockeys added to the conditions.
Journeymen jockeys are not inferior specimens of the breed. They are hard-working, conscientious men and women who possess the skill and bravery to commit to what is a dangerous occupation. To the spectator horse racing is an entertainment but to those in silks it is a means to pay the mortgage and to feed the children. They are more than bit-part players in the day-to-day drama of our sport.
There is also the integrity of the sport at play here, also. The jockey with money problems is more likely to be corrupted by outside influences than those at the top of the sport. When you are scraping along at the bottom of the pile the temptation to pull a horse – given the scenario that they ever get offered a ride with a favourite’s chance of winning – or offer inside information in exchange for reward, must be very hard to resist. If ‘restricted jockey’ races were introduced – and if we can have celebrity and amateur races, apprentice and conditional races, why not? – these men and women would as often as not be riding horses with chances of winning. The cream of the jockeys will always rise to the top but ‘restricted jockey’ races would help prevent those at the lower end going sour. I cannot understand why the B.H.A. turn their nose up at the idea. Or indeed why the Professional Jockeys Association do not lobby for the initiative.
If these races were always the first or last race, the top jockeys would benefit as it would give them either an extra half-hour to get to the races or they could set-off home half-hour earlier, and financially they would hardly notice a difference. This is a win-win idea costing zilch and yet neither the sport’s industry paper or, at least to my knowledge, the racing channels and I.T.V. have debated it.
In Ireland, where they had an entire card devoted to ‘journeymen jockeys’, the initiative was soundly praised and considered a success. I rest my case.
 
 

​No matter what you think of I.T.V.’s coverage of British racing, when they brought Ebony Horse Club in Brixton to our attention it did the greatest service to the sport in all the live-long years I have watched racing on the telly. Now, picking up I.T.V.’s baton, the Racing Post, no doubt thanks to its admirable editor Tom Lee, we are informed of a similar set-up in Liverpool, Park Palace Ponies.
The final paragraph in Lewis Porteous’ article on Sunday ‘While the kids are gaining riding experience, the real beauty of Park Palace is that the entire community is benefitting. If it can be replicated the possibilities are endless.’
‘The possibilities are endless’. Prick up your ears all you at the B.H.A. and get your asses into gear because with a bit of resourcefulness the principles that guide Park Palace could be transferred to benefit racing.
Park Palace was once a music hall, now thanks to the inspiration of former city councillor, Keith Hackett, it is a riding school for four to ten-year-olds, not only teaching kids who have never ridden in their lives to ride and how to care for ponies but also taking their experiences at Park Palace back into the classroom. Like Ebony in Brixton which is also surrounded on all sides by urbanisation, it is proving hugely popular in the Liverpool district of Dingle and seemingly has the support of everyone in the community.
As anyone who is a frequent visitor to this site is aware, I do not look favourably upon the B.H.A.. For a regulatory body they rely far too much on being reactive to situations and rarely ever deliver the sort of innovative ideas the sport needs to take it purposefully into the future. So, I hope Nick Rust reads the Racing Post on a Sunday and can visualise, as I can, what places like Ebony and Park Palace could do for racing’s future.
It is my considered opinion that horse racing, through the leadership of the B.H.A., should at the very least contribute to the financing of Park Palace and similar schemes around the country. But the sport can do more than mere charitable donations. It could, of course, hold race-days in support of such places, as it does for Greatwood. But it also could, and in my opinion should, set-up similar schemes at selected racecourses where local schools could bus-in pupils who otherwise would have no connection to horses and ponies. Teach these kids, as Park Palace and Ebony do, to ride and to care for horses. Connect them to another living being. Give these kids a positive experience of a racecourse and racing people.
Why invest in children? Because horse racing has a severe staffing crisis, due, I believe, to the disconnect between kids and the living, breathing countryside. Once upon a time horses and ponies would be common even in urban streets, pulling milk or coal carts. Ponies and horses would be grazed in fields that remained scattered amongst the housing estates. Until the 2nd World War the heavy work on farms relied on the power of the horse. To most kids, I suspect, a horse is now just a unicorn without a horn.
Use these B.H.A. sponsored riding schools to inspire kids to connect with horses and ponies, to love and care for them and to show them that there is a career to be forged with them if they should so desire. The talented kids could then be introduced to pony racing, an activity that must be promoted in this country as it is in Ireland – just read Henrietta Knight’s book ‘Starting From Scratch’ to understand how instrumental pony racing was to so many of Ireland’s top jockeys, flat and N.H. – and provide a pony so they can experience the sport for themselves.
In a world that is increasingly becoming mechanised, with A.I. replacing the human workforce in factories, horse racing, indeed the whole of the equine disciplines, can provide young people with career prospects to last them from college to retirement. The sport, the B.H.A. especially, must grasp this opportunity, to display wisdom and foresight, and replicate the proven success stories already illustrated. ‘The possibilities are endless’. From these proposed horse-racing inspired riding schools pupils could pass on, perhaps with some kind of bursary, to the racing colleges around the country to be trained to be the jockeys of the future, though more likely the stable staff of the future. It is my opinion that the colleges should not only be teaching its pupils how racehorses are cared-for today but given an insight into the stable husbandry of a hundred-years-ago for no other reason than racing colleges should be turning-out the best qualified horse-carers, the sort of potential employee that any equine discipline would want to employ.
Ebony and Park Palace must inspire those in positions of authority within our sport to lend support and finance and to ultimately replicate their success stories. Go on the Ebony website and listen to what the kids who go there say it does for them. Horses and ponies inspire kindness, self-respect, caring; kids with anxiety, autism and learning difficulties tend to blossom, kids with problems at school find solace and peace. The wonderful and inspirational Khadijah Mellah came out of such an environment.
The B.H.A. go on about encouraging diversity; look at the faces of the kids who attend these places. That is true diversity. Ebony and Park Palace change lives for the better. Horse racing may not be awash with spare cash as many outsiders might think but surely it can raise the finance to fund such schemes. Horse racing, too, could change the lives of kids for the better. Is that not worth striving for? Come on B.H.A. show some initiative and daring. The possibilities truly are endless, you know.

​When I read the headline on the front page of the Racing Post this morning – ‘Osborne slams Nars quiz for trivialising misconduct allegations’ – I thought, after reading the details of the story, I would be solidly behind Jamie Osborne’s condemnation of George McGrath, head honcho of the National Association of Racing Staff. After all, a spoof quiz that washes racing’s dirty linen in public cannot be in the best interest of the sport, can it?
Actually, to my surprise, I think what George McGrath has done is in the interests of the sport as he has brought into the public domain conduct by certain trainers that is revelatory and all rather shocking. If trainers, legitimately, can make a fuss about poor prize money, regulations that should be instigated by the B.H.A. to force owners to pay their bills, the requirement to pay apprentices 50% of their riding fees, and the rule that stops the buck at their door if one of the horses under their care fails a drug test, they should be held to account, and to public scrutiny, when one of their number fails to allow part-time staff holidays and I assume holiday pay, does not allow part-time staff access to pool money or who gives his secretary 4-times the amount of pool money he gives his stable staff, or who keeps best-turned out prize money to pay for diesel or refuses to acknowledge doctor’s sick-notes, and so on.
The worst question on George McGrath’s spoof quiz was ‘Name the trainer who was arrested for assaulting a female member of staff?’
I have a lot of time for Jamie Osborne. If I could afford it and wanted a horse to run on the flat, he would be high on my list of preferred trainers. In employing Nicola Currie, the first top-line trainer to have a female as his preferred jockey, he demonstrated courage and faith in his own judgement. He is also, I believe, honest, evidence of which was when he admitted he was the answer to the one of the questions posed by George McGrath. I don’t know which questions but I would guess at number 9, the one about not carrying out a risk assessment on behalf of a pregnant member of staff. But as I said, I speak in ignorance.
From my own experience – many moons ago, when employment in racing stables was so different from what it is now – I can easily believe many of the allegations made against trainers. In my opinion, again an opinion derived from an age long gone, trainers do not necessarily believe they are employers with a duty of care and a responsibility to abide by employment law. When anyone asked for a pay-rise, many times what the employee would receive in reply would be a breakdown of how-much he or she is owed by owners, and how fortunate you are to be employed by them and that for some unstated reason the world of racing owed them, but not you, a better living than they had become accustomed to.
There was a book published a few years ago titled ‘Stable Rat’ and some trainers certainly held their staff in a similar vein as the rodent life around their stables.
We are, of course, talking about the minority of trainers. The majority of trainers I have no doubt are honourable and fair employers. Unlike the National Trainers Federation, Jamie Osborne and others, I do not feel that George McGrath has acted ‘irresponsibly’. We need to be proud of all sectors of the sport and people, whoever they are, who bring disrepute upon the sport should be held to account, as should any employee who falsely accuses a trainer of a misdemeanour.
Instead of condemning N.A.R.S. and initiating a war of words with them, the N.T.F. should investigate each and every allegation brought against one of its members and engage in a policy of weeding out the guilty from the protection of their federation. The B.H.A. also should investigate each allegation and start to revoke licences from trainers who consistently break employment law and who engage themselves with unlawful activities even if such outrages against decency do not in effect break the rules of racing.
The reason Jamie Osborne and the N.T.F. are so upset is because trainers are shown to be sinners, whereas they would prefer their image to be one of people who are sinned against.
As always seems to be the case, this is a spat where the small minority tar the reputation of their more illustrious and honourable colleagues.

​The debate over whether the Cheltenham National Hunt Festival should evolve into a 5-day meeting, following the path successfully taken by Royal Ascot, has once again raised its beautiful head. The aspect of the debate that intrigues me, apart from the perfectly sensible arguments put forward by defenders of both sides of the argument, is that only two options are ever considered, and this is with me regularly over the years suggesting what is in fact a very good compromise.
Ever since the debate was 3-days or 4 – remember how contentious that argument was – I have championed the idea of a fifth or Heath Day, as the Saturday at Royal Ascot used to be called, when the main race was the Churchill Stakes. As an aside, given Winston Churchill in his later years was a prominent owner/breeder – and couldn’t we do with a senior politician taking a similar interest in our sport these days – it is regrettable his name is not still attached to a race of prestige.
The advantages of my proposed ‘Heath Day’ are many. More than one, anyway. The weather is unpredictable nowadays; who can say Cheltenham will not fall victim to another day of rage and fury, forcing postponement of a day’s racing. What if, God forbid, it happened on the Friday, causing the Gold Cup to be rescheduled in April! It such extreme instances the ‘Heath Day’ would come to the rescue. The Festival has grown to such prominence in the sport over the past decade that it should have some kind of safety-net, and though the B.H.A. are more flexible than its predecessors ever were and would no doubt stage the race on the Saturday, as I am proposing, as the race programme stands this would greatly inconvenience Uttoxeter’s running of the Midland Grand National, the best National outside of Aintree.
If the fabled or dreaded fifth day (or Heath Day) were to become a reality it is important that the Midland Grand National is staged on the Saturday before the Festival. This arrangement, with the Imperial Cup at Sandown the same day, would make a really interesting and bookmaker-happy weekend’s racing.
One of the other benefits of the ‘fifth day’ is that it would allow Cheltenham to trial the races vying to become part of the Festival, as with the Mares Chase to be run next season, with any race deemed surplus to requirements relegated to the ‘fifth day’. I personally would stage the Cross-Country Chase as the highlight of the Saturday fixture, bulking-up prize-money in an attempt to make it the blue riband of such races. At the moment it remains a bit of light relief from the more serious sporting endeavours at the meeting, whereas as the main feature on a still important day it will gain greater prominence.
This ‘Heath Day’ would also be the logical place for the races presently staged at Kempton for horses balloted out of the big handicaps. I also believe there are one too many races for amateurs at the Festival, as well as one too many handicaps, and would favour the Kim Muir upgraded into a conditions race for professional riders over 4-miles. You may laugh or sneer at this proposal but think about it: the biggest race of the whole year in this country is the Grand National, the biggest race in Ireland is the Irish National, indeed if National Hunt were a stick of rock it would have Grand Nationals inscribed inside it. Yet there is not one single 4-mile conditions chase, outside of the now shorter than 4-miles National Hunt Chase, in the whole of the calendar. Odd, don’t you think? An omission in need of correction. If nothing else, my 4-mile Kim Muir might be the perfect prep for the top Grand National contenders.
Other advantages for a fifth ‘Heath Day’ is that it would cheaper to stage than an actual fifth Festival day, it would provide local businesses with extra revenue, a point those against the notion of a fifth day seem to ignore, and it would allow the media, I.T.V. and the racing channels, the weekend newspapers, more time to reflect on and analyse the previous day’s Gold Cup.
The argument that a fifth day would spread the jam too thinly cannot be countered. Already with the mares races, with another mares race to be added, the championship races will too often be run without necessarily the top horses. Quevega in the past and Honeysuckle in the present are too examples that come readily to mind. Without these perfectly justifiable races, the Champion Hurdle, Stayers Hurdle, Arkle and R.S.A. chases, are already weakened, the novice hurdles, too, I suspect. The 4-day Festival is the absolute limit, I have no doubt. If the Cheltenham executive want to innovate, though, the fifth, Heath Day, is the way to do it. The advantages speak for themselves.
The Cheltenham Festival and Royal Ascot are not two peas in a pod. The 5-day Royal Ascot only works because of the number of two-year-old races through the week, most of which do not draw top-class horses, and the fact flat distances allow for 5,6,7 furlongs races, as well as a mile and upwards. Over jumps we are limited to 2-miles, 2-miles 4 and 3-miles, with an extra 2-furlongs at Cheltenham, plus the National Hunt Chase at 3-miles 6-furlongs as it is now.
Would it be asking too much for my third option to be considered as part of the debate?