​There is an elephant in the room, there has been for several decades. It must be invisible to the B.H.A. even if everyone else, with perhaps the exception of bookmakers, has recognised it, some have even walked into it and come out the worse for the experience. I am talking about prize-money, obviously; which is not so much an elephant as a herd, so long has this problem besieged horse racing in this country.
Every correspondent and spokesperson for the industry has cited Ireland’s prize-money as a contributing factor into why British trainers lost the Prestbury Cup at the Cheltenham Festival by the embarrassing score-line of 23-5, figures more reminiscent of a rugby match than equine activity. It is what it is, though. Yes, Irish prize-money is higher per race at the bottom and middle sectors than in Britain, yet it is also a shadow of the prize-money raced for in France, Hong Kong and Australia. It would be a step in the right direction for British prize-money to rise to Irish levels and it could be easily achieved if we had exactly the number of race-meetings per year as Ireland. But would we want that?
Racing in Ireland is incredibly competitive, with twenty-runner maiden hurdles and short-priced favourites in the care of Mullins, Elliott or de Bromhead. Would we want to replicate that? Twenty-runner novice hurdles at Warwick, Wincanton or Wetherby? 
The answer to the problem, whether you desire the status quo or the twenty-runner maiden scenario, can only be found if you embrace the spectre that is the other elephant in the room – the tote monopoly.
People of the calibre of Matt Chapman would rather push the proverbial handcart to hell than accept with good grace the idea of betting providing the revenue to put prize-money in Britain on a par with other countries around the world. He will talk of ‘the loss of atmosphere’ without the machinations of the ‘betting jungle’, a concept that hardly exists these days outside of the major race-meetings.
I have read other peoples’ opinions on this subject and their answer to the dearth of prize-money in this country, all of which tend to be convoluted and requiring the one thing that rarely happens in racing politics in this country and that is cooperation. All the various factions within racing look out for no one but themselves and will take no persuasion to help push the handcart to hell rather than ‘take one’ for the good of the sport.
The B.H.A. are a reactive governing body, when what the sport is in desperate need of is a proactive governing body emblazoned with vision and a can-do attitude. Instead, the B.H.A. twiddle their thumbs as the sun goes down on what was once a racing environment envied all around the world. We have the Derby, the Grand National, Royal Ascot, the Cheltenham Festival, Glorious Goodwood and the first classic ever staged, the St.Leger. We have Newmarket Heath; we have over 200-years of documented racing history. And yet slowly but surely our reputation for racing excellence is being annexed by our competitors; owners are more frequently than ever having their horses trained in Ireland or France. Increasingly the eyes of the racing world are turned ever-more frequently to Australia, Hong Kong, Dubai, the U.S.
We do not need 1-million-quid horse races that attract the same horses if it were worth half that amount. What horse racing in Britain needs, as surely as a dying man might need a blood transfusion, are horse races worth not less than £12,000 to the winner. And that is across the board. Every race, every day, flat and National Hunt. If the B.H.A. cannot put in place a scheme that provides the sort of revenue stream to finance this aim it should step aside and allow a more far-sighted organisation to take their place. We might have kept the Jockey Club if prize-money were to be allowed to drain-away as it has.
The B.H.A. has a responsibility to ensure British horse racing is fit for purpose; it is reneging on this responsibility. The buck stops with them. And anyone who believes ‘atmosphere’ brought about by the ‘betting jungle’ is of greater importance than the health of the sport is delusional. Every other racing nation funds itself through tote monopolies…. Enough said.

​If the Irish were a nation of gentleman it might have a called a declaration mid-way through the Thursday of the Cheltenham Festival in order not to embarrass their host. But no, the Irish carried on, inflicting such a humiliating defeat on the British that the casual observer might have gained the impression that the victory after victory was revenge for the potato famine or the Battle of the Boyne.
And we, as a racing and sporting nation, are humiliated. You only have to read the scandalously priced Racing Post since stumps on Gold Cup day to understand how we Brits pine for a return to the 1980’s when we won everything and Ireland took it on the chin with the dignity of true sportsman. They knew the world spun on its axis, that all facets of life tend to be cyclical and that in time the wheel would turn in their favour. Revenge is a dish best served cold, as it is said.
Aintree will be interesting this year. Imagine the united angst if the Irish snaffle-up all the trophies in two-weeks-time, especially if the Grand National is won by an Irish-trained horse? Even without Tiger Roll they have a strong hand, though with Cloth Cap and Secret Reprieve, if the latter actually gets into the race, as two of the favourites the odds might just be in our favour. Come on Nicholls and Henderson, pull a few rabbits out of the bag.
Personally, the lack of British success at the Festival didn’t grate too much on me, at least not over the first two-days. It got a bit monotonous on days 3 and 4, I admit. My highlight was Tiger Roll sticking two-fingers up at his detractors in the Cross Country and the barely contained enthusiasm of Keith Donoghue from the last obstacle to the winning line. His joy was obviously not for himself but that the Tiger had roared once more. I would not be surprised if the O’Leary brothers texted each other with ‘Oh F…, we’ve cocked this up, haven’t we?’ Though their delight at seeing their superstar horse reignite the flame was there for all to see. Now, would they prefer Tiger Roll to beat A Plus Tard at Aintree or get well-stuffed? The former will ensure he’ll always be top-weight in future Grand Nationals and defeat will hopefully get him dropped a few pounds. Personally, I would run him in the Irish National as he could conceivably win the race and you never know what is waiting for any of us down the line.
It is interesting that there will be discussion between owner, trainer and racing manager as to what to do next with Honeysuckle (or Honey as her trainer refers to her) as it is up for debate whether she goes chasing next season. That idea might have been touted before she won the Champion Hurdle, of course, and as she is now a very valuable mare, with the owner in the process of setting up a stud, it would be more likely she will stay hurdling. Anyway, Henry de Bromhead has so many Gold Cup candidates already does he really need another?
The Gold Cup shocked me a wee bit. Remember how Minella Indo walked up the hill at the end of the R.S.A. last season?  He looked all over, to me anyway, what could be described as a short runner. I didn’t think A Plus Tard would get up the hill either. What a twonk I proved myself to be. My only saving grace in my analysis of the race was my prediction that Frodon would beat again those he beat at Kempton. He again proved he is the best jumper of a steeplechase fence (ever?), though apart from the King George where does he go from here? The trip did not beat him in the Gold Cup, 3 superior horses beat him. I know Native River finished in front of him in the end but Bryony had taken her poison by then and was saving Frodon for whatever else Paul Nicholls has in store him for during the rest of the season. Punchestown, perhaps.
I e-mailed Paul Nicholls – never contacted a trainer like this before. No reply, obviously, though I did also upbraid him for the undignified way Harry Cobden was allowed to take the silks from Bryony’s back when Politologue had to be withdrawn – and suggested what did they have to lose by trying to hold-up Frodon in his final race of the season. After Kempton next season there really isn’t a race for him now handicaps are out-of-the-question and if he would plod around off the pace, he would more likely save enough energy to get up the Cheltenham hill. Personally, and I know this sounds mad, I would run him in the Celebration Chase at Sandown at the end of the season. They would go fast enough for Bryony to drop in and his jumping would eventually get him into the race. Allaho was thought to be a 3-miler and now he is considered a 2-mile Champion Chase contender. A bit of lateral thinking now and again doesn’t harm the reputation of the master of Closutton and neither should it the master of Ditcheat.
Finally, still mad as hell about the increase in price of the Racing Post and as my riposte I have reported them to the Competition Commission. It’s long odds them taking my complaint seriously, even if there is any way they can intervene but I have given it a go. Very soon the paper will be a fiver a copy and only the super-rich will be able to afford it. Something has to be done.

​I have complained about the race-programme in Great Britain several times over the years, so though I am taken aback by the domination of Irish horses last week I am not totally surprised, even if I predicted a draw between the two nations. That suggestion was not, sadly, my worst analysis of the week. Flooring Porter was my only redemption.
The main reason Irish trainers were so triumphant last week is that at the present moment their young horses are superior to the young horses trained in this country. The reason they are trained in Ireland and not here, even though the majority are English-owned, is simply down to better levels of prize-money in Ireland compared to Britain and a race programme that is kinder to the championship-type of horse, whether that be hurdler or chaser.
Mullins, de Bromhead, Elliott and others are not better trainers than Nicholls, Henderson, Skelton and others, nor do they have better facilities, they simply ply their trade under an authority that does not hinder their progress towards Cheltenham. Where our trainers are failing, I believe, is that they seem to believe that to prove themselves the equal of Willie Mullins they must go to Cheltenham with fresh horses, i.e. horses that have not run for 3-months or more. Just because this has proved a successful strategy with Al Boum Photo it should not provide supporting evidence that all horses will perform to greater effect if trained for the meeting from home. I believe, in my ignorance, that as Frodon has won all his top races after a competitive run-up, it seemed incongruous for Paul Nicholls to suggests ‘he likes to run fresh’.
I have said this before but I believe it bears repeating: the first half of the season, from October to December, should have a measured pathway towards Kempton at Christmas. The Betfair Chase, if it has a place in the calendar, is misplaced in November. To my mind, trainers would be better served if this race was downgraded and restricted to the previous season’s novice chasers. It also shouldn’t be staged at a racecourse known for heavy ground in late autumn. If it were to be restricted to second-season chasers it would be better suited to Newbury. My other gripe about the Betfair is that it dilutes from the quality of horse in the Ladbroke Trophy, a race that is slowly but surely going the way of the old Whitbread, and to a lesser extent the King George, the race that in this country should be the main focus for the Gold Cup type horse in the first half of the season. Trainers should not have the choice, Betfair or King George, as can be the case.
To help trainers have their horses cherry-ripe for the King George, the season between October and December should be splattered with condition chases, as is the situation to the lead-up to what used to be the Lexus in Ireland. Also, it makes for a better narrative if the Desert Orchid were to be upgraded to Grade I and the Tingle Creek downgraded to a Grade 2. And to make the King George meeting a proper festival the Rendlesham should return to Kempton.
How many Cheltenham Festival winners came out of the Dublin Festival? Into double figures, anyway. If it works for Irish trainers, it has to be replicated here and the easiest way of achieving it would be to develop Trials Day at Cheltenham, which at present is a country mile short of being representative as a trial for the Festival, into a 2-day meeting and staged on the same weekend as the Dublin Racing Festival. If Betfair wanted to stage a proper Cheltenham Gold Cup trial this would be the perfect date in the calendar. What a winter weekend that would be – Leopardstown and Cheltenham staging the same sort of programme on the same days.
Prize-money is the big bug-bear in Britain and being realistic it is not going to change overnight. But prize-money for novice hurdles and novice chases must be the first priority to encourage the big owners to keep horses in training with British trainers. Also, so many of the Cheltenham winners last week originated in the Irish point-to-point field, including the Champion Hurdle winner and point-to-pointing in this country must be seen as a feeder for National Hunt, not as a sphere for older horses to find a home. To this end, I suggest National Hunt trainers should be allowed to run horses in Maiden point-to-points, as happens in Ireland.
People with more brains than me will suggest many other ideas for improving the lot of the British owner and trainer but we have to start with the race programme, prize-money allocation and embracing point-to-points as a feeder for National Hunt. What we must not do is throw the baby out with the bathwater. Horse racing needs every single owner and every single breeder to believe there is a place in this sport for them. Moderate horses must be catered for, not jettisoned in favour of the major owners and the top trainers.
British trainers are every bit as good at their job as their Irish counterparts. Our jockeys, too, lack nothing in skill and dedication. And everything is cyclical; thirty-years ago the Irish were happy to go home from Cheltenham with a single winner. Not that long ago it was only a matter of how many winners Paul Nicholls or Nicky Henderson would have, and people are actually overlooking the fact that the master of Seven Barrows had quite a successful festival with two-winners.

​Goshen! Goshen! Goshen! What is your problem? I could have taken being beaten, if only with a mild degree of good grace. Okay, Honeysuckle was a good winner, the best for a few years, even if the gender allowance gave her a distinct advantage. If you had gone down by five-lengths, fighting, straining every sinew, I could have excepted my fate as a poor judge of a racehorse. But to run off the course as if spooked by ghosts of Cheltenham-past; to give poor Jamie such a horrible journey round, to bring shame on your stable ……
To my mind, Honeysuckle aside, the most impressive winner on day 1 was Appreciate It. To win a race at the Festival, albeit from a thin field of 8, by 24-lengths is some achievement and the world is now his oyster, even if the debate at Closutton will be whether to keep him hurdling or go chasing. He will be 8 next year; I would be inclined to go chasing. The gender allowance will always put a gelding at a disadvantage in the championship races.
Shishkin was awesome without setting the pulses racing. Hopefully by the season’s end he will get in a race where he will find some competition. Not having Energumene in the Arkle destroyed the race from an informative point of view. Energumene, by the way, is French for oddball. I looked it up; I haven’t changed my mind on the bloody awfulness of these tongue-twisting French names.
Wasn’t it pleasurable to see Vintage Clouds get his day in the sun? And Aye Right cannot be far from his big payday, too. An admirable horse deserving of winning a National, even if it is more likely to be at Ayr rather than Aintree.
Rachel Blackmore now owns the honour of being the female jockey with the most important win in the history of British and Irish horseracing as the Champion Hurdle trumps the King George. She won by six and a half-lengths so would most likely have won without the gender allowance, a topic that needs to be debated as it is ridiculous that the best hurdler in Britain and Ireland will always receive 7Ib from even the most moderate of geldings. Honeysuckle is not 7Ib inferior to her male rivals; if anything, she is a similar amount superior.
At least I gave Black Tears a favourable mention, even if I was confident in my opinion that she would find Concertista too good for her. I managed to mention the wrong one of Noel Meade’s in the Boodles, having thought to select Jeff Kidder when I looked at the race on Sunday. Cross my heart and hope to die if I am telling a lie!
Now, let’s be honest. Black Tears will go down as Denise Foster’s first Festival winner but as with Galvin, the winner of the National Hunt Chase, their preparation was all due to Gordon Elliott. The man is both a twat and a genius and in having Galvin primed after a racecourse absence of 5-months to win a competitive staying chase says everything that needs to be said of him as a trainer of racehorses.
Today, on all known form, Bob Olinger, Monkfish, Chacon Pour Soi, Easysland and Kilcruit are all good-things. But only backing them in multiples with big money will change your bank balance in the right direction. Alternative selections would be Bravemansgame, Sporting John, First Flow, Balko Des Flos and Sir Gerhard, a horse I was always going to select and my nap of the day.
My each-way selection for the Coral Cup is Tea Clipper and in the Grand Annual I am torn between Ibleo, my original choice, though the ground may have firmed-up too much for him and Not That Fuisse.
Good luck and may your God walk hand-in-hand with you.

​The strangest of all Cheltenham Festivals begins in around about 1-hours-time. Without fans, with no atmosphere, it will not be comparable to other years. We are racing, though, and in hope the oddness of this year’s Festival will prevail with my thoughts, I offer you the following insights on the seven races.
First the rider: I am a useless tipster who occasionally is inspired. Tom Segal, I am not.
The Supreme might be the strangest race on the whole meeting with only 8-runners and leading up to the meeting I was in the Metier camp. I would certainly like him to win for Harry Fry and Sean Bowen, a combination deserving of big winners. If the ground is riding better than soft, I’ll stick with him, otherwise I jump ship and go with Blue Lord to create a surprise. Appreciate It, to me, is a chaser and he might find this a race a bit hot.
The Arkle is a one-horse race, apparently, though you’ll not get rich backing Shishkin. If Harry Skelton can avoid falling off Allmankind he might steal the race. Shishkin is undoubtedly a class horse but he has not yet, to my mind, been involved in a proper end-to-end horse race and Allmankind will provide that today. The other one not to forget about is Captain Guiness, though I am inclined to shy away from novices that fell on their previous outing. I’m with Allmankind. 
The Ultima is not the classiest handicap chase I have witnessed at a festival and as such might be primed for a long-priced winner. Aye Right is the best horse in the field and on his Ladbroke Trophy run is, in my mind, a good thing, especially with Richard Johnson on board. The outsider I have a fancy for is Neil Mulholland’s Fingerontheswitch and the always impressive Millie Wonnacott.
In the Champion the heart would love to see Honeysuckle win but my colours have been nailed to the mast of Goshen since last year’s Festival and I will not be deserting him. Silver Streak will almost certainly be placed and the dark horse is James Du Berlais; I can’t believe Willie Mullins would be bringing him over just for the day out. He has seen something on the gallops to convince him that it he is not a 25/1 outsider. All his wins have been on Auteuil heavy ground and over a few furlong further than 2-miles. We have been warned.
The Mares Hurdle is an intriguing event, even if Concertista is a short-priced favourite. I am wondering why Paul Townend rides for Munir and Souede in this race and not their retained rider Daryl Jacobs. Does this infer Townend doesn’t fancy James Du Berlais in the Champion? I think the favourite will win but if I was having a bet I would go each-way on Black Tears.
The Boodles Juvenile Handicap is the most competitive race of the day with most of the 23-runners in with some sort of chance. Curious Bride, at the bottom of the handicap, is interesting and there must have been a legitimate reason for her pulling up last time for Noel Meade to bring her over, though stable jockey Sean Flanaghan prefers his other runner Jeff Kidder. Tentatively I side with Her Indoors for Alan King, with Glorious Zoff and Curious Bride for a place.
In The National Hunt Chase I have finally got my Festival wish – professional jockeys riding. Never mind tradition; if we used tradition as the reason to keep this race restricted to amateurs it should be a maiden chase over 4-miles started behind the stands as in ‘olden times’. On a day when my suicidal tendencies have kicked in, tipping only one Irish horse to win, I ride in here with my nap of the day, Remastered. Lovely horse, with future Grand National horse written all down one flank. I am worried by Escaria Ten, though. Please Cheltenham, keep this race for professionals. Half the bad publicity this race has endured over the past few seasons could have been avoided if it were not restricted to amateurs.

​Let me be clear: reading the Racing Post is the highlight of my drab, weary existence. Truthfully, life without the Post would be a life less well lived; akin to the drudgery of subsistence farming. To criticise the Post is, to me, similar, though not exactly the same as, falling-out with the woman you know to be ‘the one and only’. But by God the Post, or more precisely, I suspect, Tom Kerr, the paper’s present editor, is taking the proverbial. 
From today the cover price of the Racing Post is Sunday to Friday £3.90 and on Saturdays an exorbitant £4.20, an increase per week of £3-10. 
Of course, we expect the price of the paper to increase the week of the Cheltenham Festival, it is almost a tradition, though in years gone by the increase was explained as necessary due to overheads of one sort or another. This year, though, Tom Kerr boldly has offered no mitigating circumstances, only that the paper employs 120 journalists, analysts, handicappers and tipsters and unrivalled data-base, all of which needs to be paid for. I would suggest getting rid of a few members of staff to save money so the need to increase the cover price is avoided.
It is my theory that amongst this huge array of staff many are being overpaid. It’s not as if the Post has a competitor on the High Street. No hard-copy Sporting Life to deny them the monopoly that allows the Post to charge their dedicated readership whatever cover-price they can arbitrarily get away with. And this at a time when the previous day’s race reports are becoming progressively thinner, with sometimes only one race worthy of a write-up. I for one do not necessarily believe the Racing Post to be good value.
What equally bugs me is that if I were to sign-up to Members Club Ultimate the subscription provides digital access to all newspapers associated with the Racing Post for less than £1 a day. We all know where this is going – in a few years there will be no hard copy of the paper as ‘the demand will have shrunk to levels that make it uneconomic to continue publication’, forcing anyone whose life is shaped by the sport to go on-line. Well, not me, Tom. I’ll switch to a national daily before I use a smart device to follow my sport.
But what really presses my buttons about this horrendous increase in price and the charade of it always occurring Cheltenham Festival week is that at the best part of £4 a copy it re-enforces the common belief that racing is only for the wealthy, the toffs, the aristocracy. The Racing Post, the industry newspaper, should exist to be a welcoming handshake to newcomers wishing to experience and learn about the sport. But no. £4 a copy is a barrier, a closed sign, a prohibited area, broken glass atop the wall of a fine mansion. How can the sport attract a younger audience when from the news-stand to Royal Ascot there are clear implications that this is not entertainment for the working-class?
What is more alarming is that many people working within the racing industry will also not be able to afford the paper. The Racing Post is asking stable staff, for instance, to pay £27.60 a week for the industry newspaper. Peanuts, of course, to someone on Tom Kerr’s salary or a top-flight jockey. But a large percentage of a groom’s disposable income and out-of-the-question for someone with kids and a mortgage, I suspect.
If there is an ombudsmen for the trade, I could go to challenge this increase I would not hesitate. Certainly, Tom Kerr is going to get a short but precise e-mail by the end of this afternoon. At a time when everyone in the sport needs to pull together to ensure the health and long-term future of the sport the Racing Post has thought, yet again, only of itself. Shocking. Truly shocking.

​First off, do not expect four sleeps, three sleeps and so on to Cheltmas. The weekend will get in the way as I am always pushed for time on a Saturday and Sunday.
My memory is poor at the best of times and combined with the evil imp that has taken-up residence in what is left of my brain, ripping to shreds any claim I may once have had for efficiency, organisation and professionalism and rendering me incapable of holding on to any single thought for more than a minute, any fact I come up with should have an asterisk put against it. No kidding, I have the attention-span of a toddler and find myself committing the sort of stupidity normally associated with someone with dementia or a brain injury. I don’t so much need medical intervention as an exorcism! 
So, that said. My first memory of the Cheltenham Festival is running from school to be home in time to watch Arkle in the Gold Cup. Whether this was 65 or 66 I cannot say. What I do remember is that I so very much wanted Mill House to win as Arkle continuously kept trampling on my hopes and wishes of a British champion. As it generally is with me, I only truly appreciated Arkle when he was no longer around for me to eulogise on and idolise. I feel sorry for the generations since the sixties as any equine hero to grace the racecourse, without wishing to belittle any horse, cannot be compared with Arkle, perhaps not even with the largely unsung stable companion Flyingbolt. Once it was said, ‘Eclipse first, the rest nowhere’. I think that famous saying can also be ascribed to ‘Himself’. I often wonder how much better Arkle would have been if he was ridden by a stylist/horseman like Ruby Walsh and not Pat Taaffe, a great horseman in the cavalry style.
After Arkle, the memories are hazier. I recollect L’Escargot, The Dikler and Captain Christy and then my memory begins to jumble up the years. All I can remember about Midnight Court in 1978 is that the race was run in April due to waterlogging in March. And it is only in 1986 and thenceforth do the memories become clearer.
Oddly, perhaps because school got in the way, though I remember Arkle in 65 and 66, apart from watching videos on YouTube I have little recollection of Kirriemuir winning the Champion Hurdle in 65 or Salmon Spray in 66. I do though have fond memories of Persian War winning in 68, 69 and 70 and feel the pain of him being defeated by Bula in 71. In fact, I seem to have better recollections of Champion Hurdles from that era and beyond that I do the Gold Cup. It may be because the anticipation was greater for the Champion Hurdle as there were so many great and above-average hurdlers about at the time. After Persian War, there was Bula, Comedy of Errors, Lanzarote, Night Nurse, Monksfield and Sea Pigeon, and they are only the winners of the race. Bird’s Nest was runner-up in 76 and third in 1980.
Although Denman’s Gold Cup is ingrained upon my memory, the race that will be with me until my last breath has to be Sprinter Sacre in 2016. Yes, in 2013 he was imperious but it was an expected victory but in regaining his crown he defied the odds, defied sense, defied those who proclaimed him a shadow of his former self. People forget, he beat two horses that day that went on to win at the Festival the following season, which to my mind makes it one of his best ever runs. If I’m ever hacked-off with life, which happens more often than it should, it is the video I first turn-to to uplift my spirits. Nicky Henderson should have been knighted for that one victory. The training performance of the century, methinks.

Because of the muddled thinking of government, Mr.Patrick Mullins is denied the opportunity of adding to his Festival score this year. Why the B.H.A. didn’t point out that amateurs are still allowed to ride in Ireland and that the likes of Mullins, O’Connor and Codd are every bit as ‘elite’ as Townend, Blackmore and Power, and damn well nearly as professional.
Patrick Mullins is the sort of chap I envy to the point of resentment. As someone with little or no talent, it seems dastardly unfair that he is so talented on so many accounts it is easy to fall into the idea that he is in league with the gods. He is masterful jockey; he is the son (not that is a talent in itself) and heir-apparent to the great Willie at Closutton and if only to sap my confidence further he is only a gloriously talented writer. In fact, I would go so far to say he has an edge over all the Racing Post columnists, excluding the rarely seen nowadays Alastair Down. Oh, and he owns the looks of the eligible bachelor yet remains going into his middle thirties unwed or at least unattached. So at least, thank god, he is doing something wrong.

​I am both looking forward to the Festival with the anticipation of a juvenile the week before Christmas and rather dreading the hollow atmosphere and the daylight robbery of victorious horses and jockeys returning to a ‘dead’ arena. Better what we will have, I suspect, than the year of foot and mouth when we had no Festival at all.
And there is so much to look forward to, isn’t there? A Champion Hurdle that looks on paper as if it might be the best renewal for many a long year, with the reigning champion looking set to be deposed by either Honeysuckle or more likely in my opinion Goshen, with a couple of others in with a shout. There is an Arkle that as I write boasts no less than three horses that have ‘Champion Chase’ next year written all over them. There are at least two potential superstars in Envoi Allen and Monkfish to look forward to. Not even a cynic like me can see either being beaten, though the former, due to his last-minute change of stable, might be vulnerable on this one occasion. And let me remind you, all great horses get beaten at some point in their careers.
The Stayers Hurdle (why is this race not called the Champion Stayers Hurdle?) looks really juicy, with Paisley Park and Thyme Hill to do battle again, though I have a sneaking fancy for Flooring Porter of Gavin Cromwell’s. Even the Triumph Hurdle has the appearance of a race that might throw up a potential Champion Hurdle horse for next season. 
I hope David Pipe’s Umbrigado turns-up in one of the handicaps as I was quite taken with him at Newbury last week. As a member of the David Pipe Racing Club, I am privileged to be sent short videos of the Club’s horses on the gallops and schooling grounds and was taken with Umbrigado when he schooled with of the Club’s horses.
Then there is the Gold Cup which should prove a great betting race this season as there as so many horses in with a chance. To my mind Al Boum Photo is no good thing as this year’s race will not necessarily be run to suit him. Also, when under pressure he is prone to fall and I can see Paul Townend having to give him the hurry-up far sooner than in his two previous Gold Cups. On any ground but heavy I still think, despite what all the experts think, Frodon will prove himself a thorough stayer and jump himself to glory, though the fly in the ointment is Native River as it is possible his positive attitude might upset Frodon’s rhythm which will mean Bryony will not be able to dictate the pace as she has done to great effect in the past.
I have the suspicion that British-trained horses may well do better than is anticipated and do not expect an Irish whitewash and I predict three of the four championship races will stay in this country.
Something that does please me this year, and I hope the Cheltenham executive and the B.H.A. take notice, is that the National Hunt Chase will not be an amateur event this year due to government restrictions failing to acknowledge that some amateur riders are as elite as the professionals. I have long suggested that what was a 4-mile novice chase, now 3-mile 6-furlongs, was inappropriate to be restricted to amateurs and that the world’s greatest race-meeting was discredited by having so many races restricted to the unpaid ranks. Amateurs have the Kim Muir and the Hunters Chase, that is perfectly adequate. And yes, tradition has value, and the meeting is called the National Hunt Festival, named after the race that for much of its history was the feature event. But if history and tradition are to be adhered to, the race should still be a 4-mile chase for maidens, and it isn’t.
Finally, the town of Cheltenham will this year be starved of the financial input that accompanies the Festival; and the town, remember, also lost both its cultural festivals last year. To acknowledge the fact that horse racing and the Festival do not exist as lone entities and that the town of Cheltenham is as much a partner as it is a location, the B.H.A. and the racecourse might consider adding a fifth day to the meeting for the next two years in order to help the town recover financially from the ravages of government restrictions. I realise this is a contentious issue with financial consequences but the sport should reach out to the local community in a ‘we are all in this together’ attitude of companionship.
There are four handicaps that will be over-subscribed, all of which could furnish the fifth day with consolation races and if the cross-country race was run as the highlight, with the prize-money bumped-up to make it the most valuable such race in Europe (if you take out Tiger Roll and Easysland the quality of runners seems to get weaker by the year), only one more race is required to make a full card.
As I write, for those of you who live hundreds of miles from Gloucestershire, the weather in North Devon is wet and gloomy, with a measurable amount of rain having fallen over the past twelve to eighteen hours, with sunshine and showers to follow through to the weekend. The forecast is similar for Cheltenham.

​The aftermath of Gordon Elliott’s fall from grace, once the hysteria has died-down, will almost certainly be that racing will yet again have to justify its existence; again and again ‘the racing family’ will have to emphasise the high level of care granted to each and every racehorse, always being careful not to underplay the risks we ask of them for our entertainment and employment. One fatality, one act of selfish indulgence, will be all that is needed for our detractors to accuse racing of hypocrisy and greed. It is a fine line that the sport treads that will only become thinner as society becomes ever more urbanised and ever more woke.
The truth is this; not one of us can be 100% pure and perfect in our emotions and daily interactions 100% of the time, as Gordon Elliott can testify. The B.H.A.’s laudable aspirations of ‘respect from birth to death’ and ‘a life well-lived’ cannot be achieved 100% of the time; at some level or other, either today or a day in the future, someone will fall short of the B.H.A.’s honourable ambitions and when the bad light illuminates someone’s failings and the low-lifes that inhabit social media get their teeth into whatever shortcomings are revealed, horse-racing will without warning be thrown onto the back foot, even with 99.99% of racehorses comfortably housed in their stables, with little complaint of their human carers. On such occasions horse racing is a sitting duck; a bared backside ripe for kicking.
This week, in the sort of news-story mainstream media would never think to carry, the admirable Black Corton was retired, with his owners gifting him to Bryony Frost to care-for for the rest of his life. I am quite certain Black Corton will have no quibbles about his after racing retirement. Logistically, though, such happy outcomes are impossible to accomplish 100% of the time, no matter how sincere the B.H.A.’s intentions. And who, ultimately, is responsible for the after-racing care of a racehorse? The B.H.A. suggest the responsibility lies with owners but with so many horses owned by syndicates and by people with little or no knowledge of how to care for a horse, there is too much scope for ignorance to steer the ship of charity.
I well remember the shocking state Hello Dandy ended up in, found malnourished on a rubbish tip, I think it was. I could not believe anyone who benefitted and shared his Grand National triumph could allow him to drift out of their lives to the point where he was in need of rescue. The Jockey Club were of the opinion, as was their line at the time, that it was the owner who was responsible for the care of the horse, not the sport and certainly not them, yet the owner had given Hello Dandy to a friend to look after …. Need I say more. Thank God the horse found a knight in shining armour in Carrie Humble, who rebuilt him and looked after him for the rest of his life.
The point I am slowly getting to is this: the B.H.A.’s aspiration of care and respect from birth to the grave is admirable, and everyone within racing has a duty to comply with the instruction but the integrity of the aspiration tends to fall on individuals, welfare organisations and retraining charities, not on the sport as a whole. It has long been a gripe of mine that horse racing is all too willing to put on race-days to raise money for human charities but in the main ignores the equestrian charities that should be foremost in its thoughts and would shine a favourable light in the sport’s direction.
Australia has a retirement facility for retired racehorses which is a tourist destination for race-fans. The Irish National Stud is home to some of the country’s best-known ex-racehorses, and again the public can visit and see close-up horses that are regarded as national treasures. We do not have anything comparable, and we should have. Indeed, if the B.H.A. are totally committed to its ‘a life well-lived’ slogan it should have as an aspiration a similar home for retired racehorses, where the general public and in particular racing enthusiasts can pay their entrance fee and equally pay homage to Britain’s equine national treasures. There should be charity race-days to highlight the aspiration of ‘a life well-lived’ and to raise funds for the purchase of a suitable facility that can be transformed into a National Retirement Home for Racehorses. Not every retired racehorse, of course, but as many as funds can accommodate.
When we are embarrassed and humiliated by thoughtless acts perpetrated by trainers and jockeys failing in their duty of care to the sport and to the horses that help to pay their mortgage, the only reply we can give is on the lines of it’s a one-off incident, it’s not like that anywhere else. It smacks of ‘not my fault, chum, I was asleep at the time. Yet the same people shocked and disgusted by the sight of a man sitting on a dead horse will defend to their last breath a jockey using a whip to get the last ounce of energy out of a live horse.
There was a time, if you remember, when bookmakers and handicappers lobbied for every horse to be ridden-out to the finishing post to make life easier for them. Common-sense reigned, thankfully, and the welfare of the horse remained supreme. It is maddening to me that a jockey will get a longer ban for being ‘too easy’ on a horse or for misreading the finishing line, than a jockey who transgresses the whip rules. It is not a case of ‘a life well-lived’ for the horse subjected to over-zealous use of the whip, even if the whip is nowadays soft and bendy. Isn’t it the case that if I used a soft and bendy whip to coerce a dog into doing something it was not keen to do, I would be subject to the law of cruelty? Respect from birth to death but not necessarily in the final furlong of a race, I suggest. Where’s the dignity in being subjected to the crack of the whip!