​Firstly, as of this moment, 5 am, I have yet to read my on-line Racing Post and I am not up-to-speed with the numbers and facts of the jockeys banned from the July Cup meeting as a result of their riding at Royal Ascot and, secondly, my views are contrary to my argument that when the top jockeys are missing for whatever reason, it gives those lower down the order opportunities to ride a better-class of horse in a better-class of race.
If the Professional Jockeys Association were to propose a strike of their members over the issue of the present rules regarding use of the whip, I would support them. They will not go on strike, of course, and I doubt it would even be debated. But there must be severe disquiet in the weighing room over the number of jockeys receiving draconian punishments for what is in effect only technical infringements of what is, I believe, unnecessary restrictions imposed for cosmetic reasons. 
As things stand, I believe, Frankie Dettori came out of Royal Ascot with 17-days- worth of bans, 9 for being the cause of a rival jockey having to snatch-up to avoid an accident and further 8 for his riding of Inspiral in the Queen Anne. The first 9-days is, I believe, an appropriate suspension, the other eight-days are questionable. The July Cup will also be without Oisin Murphy for similar reasons.
What message the B.H.A. believes it is sending out to the wider public only they can know. If I were an outsider looking in, the spread of suspensions, especially to our highest profile jockeys, would suggest British jockeys possess carpet-beating mentalities when it come to use of the whip. There has to be a better way of presenting our sport to the public than bans, bans and more bans.
Let’s not beat about the bush: the B.H.A. have fucked-up this issue for the entirety of their existence. They have proved themselves incapable of producing whip reform that work in the real world of the final furlong. So many jockeys riding today have suffered shoulder injuries and shoulder surgery that maybe it is physically impossible for many of them, not withstanding how dedicated they are to changing their whip action, to conform to rules instigated by people who have never ridden a finish on anything more dynamic than the back of a settee.
I maintain that ‘one hit and that’s it’, is the way forward as everyone can count from zero to one and such an imposition requires no rule about ‘above shoulder height’ or where the strike lands on the horse. It would be a draconian rule but it would be draconian, and perhaps unfair, to all. Jockeys would rebel from such an imposition, of course, as would punters who believe horses go faster the more times a jockey cracks a horse’s rump with their pro-cush.
The B.H.A. believe, wrongly, they have achieved the right balance with its latest attempt to reform use of the whip and give themselves kudos for on-going dialogue with jockeys over the matter. Yet professional jockeys were so hacked-off with the new rules they took root a branch approach to their own leadership, believing their professional body was not engaging on their behalf with the B.H.A., the same executive committee that took sides in the Frost-Dunne dispute and made an unholy mess of that issue as well.
In the U.S. defenders of private ownership of firearms will say, ‘it is not guns that kill people but people who kill people’. It is a stupid, selfish argument in the aftermath of school and mall shootings. Take away the guns and the act of wholesale murder becomes far more difficult to achieve.
So, to return to the point in question. Why not take away the offensive weapon from the jockey. Instead of banning Frankie from the racecourse for 17-days, take away his whip for 17-days. Instead of banning a jockey from riding for breaching whip rules, for excess or over shoulder height or hitting in the wrong place, have them ride in races where they can carry a whip but not use it for anything other than preventing possible injury to their horse or other jockeys?
I have suggested many times before and will suggest, perhaps, many times in the future that there should be ‘hands and heels’ races for professional jockeys, as there are for apprentices. After all, what is the point of apprentices riding in races when they cannot use their whips if in later life they are subject to the same rules as their seniors?
The sport should be walking towards the day when a whip is carried but not used as a tool of ‘persuasion’. The ‘public licence’ will, eventually, be taken away. It might not be in my lifetime but you can be assured that wildlife documentaries that make it clear all animals are sentient beings will outsway any argument the B.H.A. can put forward to help preserve the sport.. ‘Animal Rising’ are right when they say man’s association with animals needs to be looked-at. That does not imply, of course, that a whole species of horse should be obliterated just because a few ignorant people take offence at people racing horses for a living. But we should take an inward look at ourselves, everyone of us, and that includes the B.H.A., jockeys, the whole racing industry.
Banning jockeys from earning a day-to-day living as punishment for small indiscretions, especially when the misdemeanour is caused by the actions of their mounts, is in need of a radical rethink. If a jockey is banned from using a whip for a period of time, it becomes the responsibility of owners and trainers whether that jockey can earn a riding fee. Without a whip, jockeys will be forced to drop their irons a few holes and learn the art of keeping a horse running in a straight line through the strength of their legs and body position, an art their forebears knew but which is lost to flat jockeys of today.

​I may be wrong but there seems to be a directive at the moment to ban as many jockeys as humanly possible. The ‘brutal’ whip bans imposed on Keilan Woods and Paula Muir by the B.H.A. last week under the ‘totting-up’ process give both the public a false impression of jockeys as ‘carpet-beaters’ and ammunition for the likes of ‘Animal Rising’ to help sustain their cause. On Tuesday, we will discover if any jockey breached the whip rules at Royal Ascot. I witnessed little to disturb me in any race last week but then I am not paid to analyse camera footage in search of breaches of the rules. Personally, I would prefer to see ever-increasing fines, including having the riding fee taken from them, imposed on jockeys rather than suspensions for whip offences. 30% deduction in prize-money from winning a race at Royal Ascot would hurt far more than a 4-day ban.
I suspect P.J. McDonald received a suspension for Pyledriver’s misdemeanours in the Hardwick, other than that it was the bans imposed on Hollie Doyle and Frankie Dettori that caused me ire. 
My problem with the 4-day ban given to Holly Doyle is this: as with Pyledriver, the incident was caused by the actions of Bradsell. I believe Hollie Doyle did all she could in the time-frame available to her to keep her horse on a straight line. You can argue in P.J. McDonald’s case that as Pyledriver is a known offender, it would be wise of whoever is riding him not to use the whip on him. In a case like Bradsell, all a jockey can do is react to the sudden actions of the horse beneath them. The ‘offence’ in this case happened right on the finishing line, though there was ‘intimidation’, as Jason Hart described it, during the final 100-yards. No one can say with certainty that Highfield Princess would not have got upsides Bradsell if that ‘intimidation’ had not occurred and might or might not have ‘outbattled’ him in the shadow of the winning post. It was ‘the opinion’ of the stewards that the result was unaffected by either the ‘intimidation’ or Bradsell suddenly veering towards the exit gate in the final strides of the race. It is conjecture. My ire, though, was raised by the suspension imposed on the rider. If Highfield Princess was not denied a winning opportunity by the riding of Hollie Doyle and the bump on the line did not affect the result, why impose the ban? To claim she should have done x y z in the micro-second of the moment, when she did do everything in her power to keep the horse straight, is, to me, an inadequate conclusion. If her riding did not affect the result, why should she be banned? Pyledriver knocked another horse into another horse, that was a dangerous incident which might have been avoided if P.J. had not used his whip. In comparison to the incident caused by Bradsell, the Pyledriver incident was 4 or 5-times more dangerous. Will P.J. get a 12-day ban for an incident that was, it can be argued, out of his control?
Frankie’s ban was also subject to conjecture. He chose to steer his mount to the rail, when he had the option to stay straight, a manoeuvre that caused the jockey behind to snatch-up his horse to avoid a major incident. This was jockey error and a ban was inevitable. If Hollie received a 4-day ban for something that was beyond her control and which she had a micro-second to react to and rectify, is 9-days right for an incident that was wholly jockey error? Personally, although the professionals think the ban will be reduced, I don’t think it will be overturned on appeal. To me, the ban P.J. McDonald receives should be less than one Frankie received as he reacted to a situation, whereas Frankie was fully in control of his actions.
Now then, black type. Too many fillies and mares achieve black type on the cheap. For instance, if a filly finishes last of 4 in a listed or Group race it will receive black type in a sales catalogue, as will her progeny when sold in the sales-ring. If a filly or mare wins a fiercely-competitive handicap at Royal Ascot with double-digit number of runners, black type is not awarded, a situation that seems bizarre to me if ‘black type’ is supposed to signify higher achievement on the racecourse. 
Finally, an everlasting gripe of mine. Last week bookmakers shared their profits from the Britannia Stakes between six charities, all noble and worthwhile causes, I have no doubt. Yet Royal Ascot is a celebration of the horse (and yes, the clothes horses on parade between the races) and yet no one thought it right to donate the money raised to an equine welfare charity, if only for the right sort of publicity it might get. If horse racing itself cannot financially support the work of the Rehabilitation of Racehorses, as an example, how can we expect the public to put their hands in their pockets. On the last day of Royal Ascot, Canute lost his life in pursuit of our entertainment. A tragedy or merely bad publicity for the sport? Every charity day that takes place on a racecourse should involve raising money for either equine charities or the Injured Jockey Fund. Privately people can support any charity of their choosing. Publicly, the sport should look after its own.

​Let us not forget that ‘Magic Thursday’ began with a 150/1 winner. Personally, I love a shock winner. There is a peculiar kind magic in itself when a member of the disregarded gets one over on the highly considered.
Of course, the highlight of the meeting, the longest-lasting memory, will be the first success at the Royal meeting for King Charles. His mother, the late Queen Elisabeth – when will I stop missing her presence at Ascot and Epsom – achieved her first success at Royal Ascot only weeks after her coronation, also in a handicap. Now, her son has also achieved a first success as monarch weeks after his coronation. I hope she was looking down and forming opinions on where to go next with Desert Hero. St. Leger, possibly?
In the inevitable focus of attention on the King and Queen, it should not be overlooked what a brilliant ride Desert Hero got from Tom Marquand, possibly the ride of the week. Nor should it be overlooked what a willing partner Tom had in Desert Hero. It was not a straight-forward victory, there was no coming with a wet sail to mow-down the opposition, easing up at the line, to it. Tom had to change course at least twice and Desert Hero had to squeeze through gaps a less gallant horse would have backed away from and then he put down his head and battled his way to be first passed the post. In the moment of victory, the Queen brushed away a tear and the King looked genuinely thrilled to own a Royal Ascot winner. We can only hope on the morning after the afternoon before his obligation to maintain the royal participation in horse racing has graduated to bone-fide enthusiasm for the sport and a desire for greater success in the future.
For two-days Hollie Doyle held the bragging rights over hubby Tom. As the first female jockey to win a Group 1 at Royal Ascot, she has made a mark that will be recorded in the history of the sport for as long as the sport survives. Tom may have only won a handicap and a Group 3 thus far at Royal Ascot 2023, yet he provided the King with the first of, I hope, many successes at Royal Ascot, ensuring it will be Tom who will appear on the front pages on the national newspapers. They appear to be too supported of each other for childish chiding, but Tom, for now, is a national hero.
Frankie, of course, is writing his own scripts these days. Courage Mon Ami, even if he did go into the Ascot Gold Cup with three-wins from three-runs, was, in my book, an unlikely winner. It just isn’t done for such an inexperienced horse to win an Ascot Gold Cup. The Derby winner had more runs in his career than the Gosdens’ latest Gold Cup superstar. In fact, every classic winner this season had appeared on the racecourse more times prior to their classic success than Courage Mon Ami. Thady has mighty shoes to fill once his name alone is on the training licence.
Of course, Frankie being Frankie had to step on toes during his parade of jubilation. His harsh 9-day ban imposed by the Ascot stewards on Tuesday might be nothing compared to his incarceration in the Tower of London for breaching royal protocol by kissing the Queen. I dare say, Camilla took it in good spirit but the precedent cannot be allowed to become established for fear of someone far less innocent than Frankie attempting the same closeness. For this sport, our Royal family is precious; we need their presence on a racecourse at every available occasion. I hope Frankie offers his apology and the matter will be laid to rest. At least he didn’t pick the Queen up and twirl her around as he did Lady Bamford after the Oaks. Small mercies, perhaps.
Again, as with Tom Marquand, the success overshadowed the great ride Frankie gave his willing partner. Nothing fancy or as forceful as Marquand’s, just a perfectly conducted tactical exhibition of his brilliance in the saddle. The Gosdens’ will never lack for big-race success but they will find it near-impossible to replace Frankie. Only Ryan Moore is his equal and he is very unlikely to sever his ties with Aidan O’Brien. I couldn’t see Buick leaving Godolphin, though James Doyle might, though he is on the heavy side. And it is too high-profile an assignment for any of the young riders marking their name at the moment. So, would Marquand be tempted to ditch Somerville Lodge for Clarehaven?
Then, as if Gold Cup Day couldn’t get any better, and in accordance with the magic hour back in 2018 (I shouldn’t make stabs in the dark when it comes to dates and years) when Frodon won for Bryony Frost at Cheltenham, a female jockey put the icing on the tastiest of flat racing cakes when the divine party-girl Hayley Turner won the Britannia Handicap on a horse with the same spirit as Frodon. I loved the way Docklands stretched out his neck and raced for all his worth to the winning post.
The thing with Hayley, as it is with Bryony, it’s what she gives after the race that is the delight. She is buoyant of spirit without coming across as either self-important or overly-ambitious. She has accepted her place in the sport and remains grateful for the opportunities that come her way. It is why the sport must continue to promote and encourage female jockeys; as with Hayley and Bryony, they bring an extra-dimension to the sport. I hope when Docklands progresses to Group races that Hayley keeps the ride. As with Frankie, she is irreplaceable.

​‘Love’ – strong feeling or attachment, tenderness, protectionism for another person.
Or – warm interest in and enjoyment of something.
‘Love is only one of many passions’. To quote Samuel Johnson.
The word ‘love’, as with ‘legend’, ‘genius’ and ‘hate’, are not only easy to go-to nouns, but words that over-egg the pudding of emotion in want of being expressed. If I say ‘I love Joanna Mason’, for instance, love is not being expressed from the heart but as a token of admiration and expression of respect. When I say ‘I love Joanna Mason’ there is no need for her to go immediately to a solicitor to take out a restraining order. I also do not avail myself of the services of social media, so there is no need to concern herself about the blood-curdling prospect of eulogies of devotion appearing on Facebook or Twitter. I am also old enough to be her grandfather, though nowhere near as old as the grandfather she is obviously devoted to, the legendary Mick Easterby.
Firstly, let’s get the bloody obvious out-of-the-way: she scrubs up real fine, doesn’t she? She is a beautifully understated woman and you could knock me down with a wren’s feather if she is not either married or in a long-term relationship with the most of fortunate young man. I care not as it’s not my business to enquire.
I suspect she is being ‘marketed’ or ‘publicised’ at the moment as she has appeared recently on ‘Luck on Sunday’ and in several YouTube videos, including an interview for ‘The Sporting Life’. The spiral fracture to her fibula – done that myself and it rarely ever heals 100% but is a non-weight-bearing bone so it is not a matter of concern– has given her the time and opportunity to ‘get herself out there’, putting to good use a face the camera loves and a personality the viewer with instantly fall in love with.
So far, lazy, inexcusable, use of ‘legendary’,’ loves’ and ‘fall in love’.
Within six-days of the fall on the gallops – caused by three pigeons, the snipers of the animal world that perhaps cause short-stirruped jockeys the most amount of embarrassment in a calendar year – our heroine was back in the gym at Jack Berry House committing herself whole-heartedly to upper body strength work-outs.
If you go to her uncle David Easterby’s website, her grandfather extols her virtues as you would expect a loving grandfather would do. Her main fault, according to Mick, is that she doesn’t delegate enough, preferring to do everything herself. It is also not unusual for her to ride six lots in a morning before going racing, not only to ride but on occasion to also lead up and, if I understood Mick correctly, will drive the horsebox to the racecourse. On one occasion she did all of the above and when she got home refused supper and went for a 5-mile run instead. That is dedication to the cause.
I believe she is wholly underrated as a jockey. She rode a winner for William Haggas at the Shergar Cup last season and he admitted afterwards that he was surprised at the quality of ride she provided. As a lightweight jockey there is none better and she should be given more opportunities by trainers other than the ones presently making use of her talents, especially in big race handicaps.
She has a university degree and was a successful point-to-rider before she broke bones in her back – it was ‘nothing’, apparently, and in a month she was race-riding again – and became one of the best amateur jockeys on the flat. It wouldn’t faze her to ride show-jumping or eventing as she is a natural horsewoman. She also, I believe, has her own hunter, which she also exercises. These ‘workaday’ jockeys make us ‘ordinary Joes’ seem real sloths, don’t they? Oh, to be young again! To bounce out of bed with the purpose of someone who has a life worth having!
All the above, of course, would apply to dozens of jockeys presently riding, all of whom are under-used and underrated and yet do not have the benefit of being a member of the Easterby clan. But that is life, isn’t it? It’s not the hand you are dealt with but how you play the hand and no one can say she hasn’t rolled up her sleeves and put her shoulder to the wheel.
Yes, I am a bit of a slut when it comes to saying nice words about female jockeys. First there was the divine Hayley Turner, then I moved on to Josephine Gordon, then Nicola Currie became the object of my ‘strong attachment’, and I’ll always remain devoted to Bryony, but I think I’ll settle on Joanna Mason as my favourite on the flat for a good while to come. I’m sure if I live long enough to be considered ‘an uneconomic eater’ another talented and unsung female jockey will come along to usurp my ‘warm interest’ in Miss Mason but for now my ‘tender feelings’ are in support on the north’s finest.
Not that my platonic interest in her career is any practical use to her. But as of now, if and when I win the Lottery, the 100-grand Dubawi or Frankel yearling I will buy will go to David Easterby to be trained. Yes, I live in a fantasy world. What do you expect, I’m 69 and a ¼ -years old. The real world is a heap of crap and I have nothing but the grave to look forward to and lovely ladies like Joanna and Bryony – I split my time between them, I’m sure they understand – allow me an attachment to something worth living for. My passion for horse racing.

​Horse racing is more and more marginalised by mainstream media. I.T.V., with its defence and promotion of the sport is horse racing’s greatest, perhaps only true, ally at the moment. Their production at Royal Ascot this week will be up with the best televised sporting action of the year. Ed Chamberlain will be professional and enthusiastic, dressed to the nines in clothes that would look satirical anywhere outside of a church wedding, especially so, though, in temperatures hitting the mid-seventies when common-sense would decree men strip down to their shirt-sleeves. Bravo to him and his male cohorts on the podium. I would not survive twenty-minutes under such brutal conditions.
As with all major race-meetings, though, a cloud of confrontation will hang over the King’s racecourse this week and will not dissipate until the riders dismount after the final race of the meeting. This, sadly, will be the way of things for our sport for years to come.
‘Animal Rising’ present the sport with more than mere menace. It is not a fringe movement. It is not a band of misguided brethren avowed to do good for the world. They are affiliated to ‘Stop Oil’, ‘Black Lives Matter’, ‘Extinction Rebellion’ and are shadow-funded by the Soros family and a member of the Getty family. They have finance and they have a cause. A dangerous combination.
If they don’t get us now, they may well get us through our children, or your children, as I have played no part in furthering the survival of our species. In the U.S. and Australia, perhaps Great Britain, though I have seen no evidence for it, the LGBT, and possibly xyz, community have infiltrated the class rooms of primary schools. The education of the very young exposed to transgender politics and in one video children as young as six or seven encouraged to give dollar-bills to gyrating trans dancers. I kid you not. Win over the kids and in time you have won over the adults. What if Animal Rising were to be allowed into the classrooms of Great Britain? 
As I see the situation, it is folly to ignore Animal Rising in hope they will eventually go away, and dangerous to engage with them without a counter-offensive strategy. Running away has never won a battle, let alone a war.
To quote the B.H.A. after rejecting Animal Rising’s proposal for a t.v. debate: ‘the B.H.A. does not believe it is possible to reach common ground and is concerned that continuing to engage in national debate will play into the group’s hands’. While there is no dispute there is no common ground between horse racing and the aims of Animal Rising and never can be, warring factions always end-up around the peace table. When outside agendas have been met, Ukraine and Russia will find themselves negotiating a peaceful settlement. It is inevitable. It is the way wars tend to end. Talk, talk is better than war, war, to misquote Sir Winston Churchill. Boy, could we do with him around now!
Which side of the divide possesses the moral high ground here? If the B.H.A. are secure in the belief that horse racing is a fair and honourable sport, that the horse is cared-for to the enth degree by their human partners and can argue that many thousands of people are employed directly or indirectly in the industry, why not go on a national forum and try to expose the holes in Animal Rising’s views? What was the phrase the B.H.A. used when they asked people to give their opinions on the whip and its use? ‘The public licence’, was it? We only survive if the public continue to licence the sport by its acceptance.
Animals are not rising up, by the way. It is not the horse that is up in arms. It is a small group of people who are manipulated to do the work of those who wish to bring down society to reset it in image of themselves. Animal Rising are idealists. They believe they have a right to abolish any aspect of society that offends them. All round the world animals are used and abused, animals in far more urgent need of the protection of those people who sit in vegan cafes and demand the B.H.A. do as they say or else, than racehorses.
I do not believe playing hide and seek with Animal Rising is the way forward, especially if, as expected, the Labour Party win the next election. Our trump card is the revenue the horse racing industry brings to the Exchequer. Not even a socialist government will be able to afford to turn its back on the regular stream of money that the sport annually delivers. But Labour, as an act of appeasement, may ban jump racing, with the knock-on effect that will put eventing and show-jumping in jeopardy.
The debacles at Epsom and Brighton recently were mere bullets in the foot when compared to the possible bullet in the head if Animal Rising gain traction within the Labour Party.

​Unlike the majority of racing books I buy and read, David Owen’s ‘No Snail’ is brand spanking new and so there should be no difficulties involved in tracking down a copy.
When I saw the book reviewed in the Racing Post, I knew immediately I had to have it included in my small horse racing library. This was a book, I anticipated holding in my hand, to sit beside Ivor Herbert’s book on Red Rum or Michael Tanner’s book on Spanish Steps. Sadly, ‘No Snail’ falls short of the quality of Ivor Herbert’s mighty tome and is not a patch on Michael Tanner’s love-letter to Spanish Steps.
That is not to say I regret buying ‘No Snail’. Far from it. L’Escargot deserved a book of his life. It was long overdue. And David Owen should be praised for filling a gap in the history of National Hunt racing. His prize-winning book about Foinavon is one of my favourites. Foinavon, too, deserved to be recognised for his contribution to the legacy and history of National Hunt racing and we have David Owen to thank for righting the wrong.
The disappointment, I suspect, is because the anticipation generated by the review in The Racing Post could only be fulfilled by the sort of book Ivor Herbert wrote about Red Rum. It is a comparison most racing books published in our more impoverished days cannot hope to equal. Ivor Herbert’s book started from Red Rum’s birth and meticulously documented his whole career. Herbert’s book on Arkle, was a life’s journey, from birth to death.
David Owen’s book is not a meticulous history of the life of L’Escargot but a long overview of the races he competed in. Little is learned of the in-between days, how he was trained, his character, the people around him on a daily basis. Of course, L’Escargot’s lived long time ago. Red Rum out-lived him, for instance. It would have been an arduous task for the author to find contemporaries of the main players still alive today. I would have liked to have had the Carberry family quoted in the book. After all, they remain racing royalty in Ireland and Tommy must have spoken at length to his famous sons and daughter about L’Escargot and Raymond Guest, the owner of the great horse.
And in achievements, L’Escargot was a great of National Hunt racing. He won two Cheltenham Gold Cups, plus his Grand National victory, the main thrust of this book. He won other races, though little of note and that is why, I believe, his memory has been consigned to history. Kinloch Brae, a good horse of lesser achievements than L’Escargot, has a race run still in memorial of him. As does Captain Christie, I believe. Flyingbolt did not win a Gold Cup or a Grand National and he has a race run in his honour. Though Flyingbolt was without doubt, in his prime, one of the greatest chasers of all-time, the only horse handicapped anywhere close to Arkle. Yet L’Escargot, I believe, is not honoured or remembered similarly. Two Cheltenham Gold Cups and a Grand National – list the horses through time with similar achievements?
David Owen’s book at least begins to right that wrong and we should thank him, as should the descendants of the people whose lives shone more brightly because of what L’Escargot achieved on behalf of their forebears. ‘No Snail’ deserves a place on the shelves of anyone with an interest in either the Grand National or National Hunt racing. And let’s not forget, though David Owen failed to emphasise the point, L’Escargot was competing in Grand Nationals when the quality of some of the opposition was of a higher quality than at any time since. Red Rum is the greatest horse of Aintree and in receipt of weight, it has to be said, L’Escargot emphatically got the better of him. No fluke. No luck. Won on merit.
L'Escargot deserves his legend immortalised in print. I just hope the Guests gave the old horse a grave and a headstone at his death aged 21. He deserved nothing less. Indeed, he deserved so much more.

​One aspect of the bloated race-programme that receives little attention is the lack of variety these days. Racecourses seem more disposed to amateur races on the flat than staging a race that adds variety or originality to a race day. Here’s one idea: the male population in particular is getting weightier. Back in the day of Charlie Elliott and Joe Childs boys entered racing stables aged about fourteen weighing as little as 4st and not many lbs and by the time they had the chance to prove themselves as apprentice jockeys many of them were not much heavier. Say what you will but malnutrition has its advantages. Nowadays kids are well-fed from the breast onwards and if handicaps were weighted as they were in Ellioot’s and Childs’ day top jockeys like James Doyle and Adam Kirby would still be mucking out stables. Over the past couple of decades, the minimum weight in handicaps has risen in tune with the extra pounds jockeys were weighing. 7st 7lbs, apprentice claiming and doing 7, is a thing long in the past. Rightly so.
But when changes take place there are always sufferers. In this instance, those jockeys who amazingly can still ride at eight-stone or less are discriminated against. If you look back at Jimmy Quinn’s early career, he won many of the top handicaps, now he barely gets a look-in. With so many competent female jockeys now riding, which, perhaps was not the situation when Quinn was the jockey of favour by the top trainers for lowly-weighted handicappers at Royal Ascot and beyond, there is an argument for establishing ‘low weight’ races, as, I believe, are staged in the U.S.
As with many of the suggestions I put forward, as with winner-restricted races for professional jockeys, as they have established successfully in Ireland, low weight races would require no additional funding. When I say low weight, I mean top-weight would be somewhere around 8st 5. Perhaps a pound or two higher. With a bottom weight of 7st 7, as in the days of yore. Not a step backwards but a levelling of the playing field. Giving all jockeys an opportunity to increase their income a faction. I know Holly Doyle could ride in such races and she hardly needs a boost of income but in principle its an idea worth debating.
June is as good time to talk about the National Hunt season as any month, I’m sure you agree. The National Hunt season used to work fine before the introduction of summer jumping. The 3-month break between the end of one season and the start of the next was for me interminable but when the entries for the first meetings of the season at Newton Abbot and Market Rasen were published in the Sporting Life it was reason for the heart to sing with joy. Small fields back then, becoming smaller as the firm ground took its toll on horses bones and tendons but it was still jumping and it meant the  Gold Cup and Champion Hurdle horses would be off grass and back in training.
I was in favour of the introduction of summer jumping. Trainers and jockeys were denied an income by the summer’s break and some horses needed top of the ground for it to be worthwhile keeping them in training. I am still in favour of summer jumping, though less would definitely be more rewarding for all concerned. Personally, I think an autumn break of 5 or 6-weeks would better suit all concerned.
Racecourses like Worcester, Stratford and Newton Abbot can produce perfectly safe ground through the months of May, June and July, and it would be unfair in the extreme if the B.H.A. reduced their chances of an annual profit by returning to a lengthy summer break. After much thought – no, really. This issue has caused me a great deal of thought toing and froing – I believe the core National Hunt season should be between the third week of September to the end of May, with the season continuing until mid-August when the champion jockey, trainer, owner, etc would be crowned.
Yes! Yes! Yes! I hear you. The final meeting, as is, at Sandown works so well why advocate change? I would answer, why should one-meeting scupper innovation that might be in the best interests of the sport. The B.H.A. could sanction a non-flat racing Sunday for ‘Finals Day’; with the summer racecourses taking it in turn stage the last meeting of the season - Newton Abbot, Market Rasen, Perth, Worcester, Perth. To my way of thinking, a rural racecourse would be a more appropriate venue to crown champions than a metropolitan racecourse as the sport was originated when two people bet each other they could gallop between two steeples faster than the other.
I have always been of the opinion that both the flat and N.H. seasons require both a root and branch overhaul and a good deal of blue sky thinking. Let’s get the party started! Or a debate.

​Perhaps it is because I am of an age when if life had panned-out differently I would be a grandfather, but I am becoming more and more a supporter and follower of females in sport than, as was the case for most of my life, my own gender. Over the last ten or twelve-years I have grown to enjoy the woman’s side of football over the men’s game, to the point now when if I watch the men’s game it is far more likely to be ‘The Big Match Revisited’ than ‘Match of the Day’ or an England international. For instance, I did not watch a single game during last year’s World Cup won by Argentina. I lost faith in the England men’s team when they lost that semi-final to Croatia.
Amazingly, considering my 100% allegiance to horse racing, my favourite ever sporting moment is no longer Red Rum’s third Grand National win, Desert Orchid’s Gold Cup or Sprinter Sacre winning the 2016 Champion 2-mile Chase but England winning the European Championship at Wembley last summer. I think Ella Toone’s opening goal will remain forever my favourite goal. It was a beautiful sporting occasion, with an atmosphere that transported me back many decades to when football was sheer sport, played by people who play the game not for what they can get out of it but out of passion and privilege for being able to play the game. I only have to hear ‘Sweet Caroline’ on the radio for the emotion of the occasion to flood back.
On the flip side is this, and I am sure female jockeys get this crap all the time. Any comment I post on a female football website or even Sky News, will receive replies from bigots informing me that men are better at football than women, using profanities and insults that would shame their grannies. And if you remind them that they are comparing apples with pears and that a top woman’s team would also always likely beat a good under sixteen boys team, you either receive silence or more abuse. I have no problem with people airing their differing opinions but couldn’t tech companies at least insist on basic good manners from the users of their social media outlets?
I’m old enough to remember when ‘jockettes’, as they were first labelled, were such a novelty that the first female restricted horse race created headlines on all national news broadcasts. If they only knew then what we know now, eh!
Yesterday I watched Nick Luck interview Joanne Mason, the female, who along with Saffie Osborne, I believe possesses the necessary riding talent to be riding good horses at all the top meetings. A great interviewer and a lovely interviewee. The door of opportunity, of course, is now ajar for femal jockeys, which was never likely to be the situation thirty-years ago, and all Joanne, Saffie and others require is for, as in the days of ‘manners maketh the man’ a gentleman trainer (or owner or fellow female trainer) to open the door wide and to guide them into the parade rings on the biggest of days.
Hayley Turner, riding as good as ever at the advanced age of forty as when in her prime, is a wonderful ambassador for the sport in general and Holly Doyle continues to raise the bar ever higher for those of her sex who presently ride in her wake. Yet the job is not yet done. I hope in the last year’s of my lifetime to witness a female jockey win the Epsom Derby or at least an English classic. It is on the horizon, that’s for sure. As is an England football team winning a World Cup.
Yet in Ireland, there is no female jockey within hailing distance of Rachel Blackmore, though her standing in the sport has allowed a few females to turn professional, with only Siobhan Routledge riding winners with any consistency on the flat. Britain leads the way when it comes to female participation in day-to-day horse racing.
Why is this topic important? Because half the population of the world is female and for horse racing to survive when statistics suggest a large decline in public interest in the sport over the past decade, we must establish the narrative that we are an all-inclusive, equal opportunity, sport. We need female jockeys riding regularly in the top races and we need females attending race-meetings not as clothes-horses but as genuine horse racing fans.
As when Merriel Tuffnel won the first all-female jockeys race at Kempton, the sport should be looking for a similar headline grabbing event. Which is why I proposed (to silence) the B.H.A. should establish the most valuable professional female rider restricted flat race in the world. A race professional female jockeys all around the world would have at the top of their wish-list. A race, at least in its inaugural year, that would receive the novelty mention on at least some national news broadcasts.
I would also like to see ‘low weight’ races established, where the weights favour lighter jockeys over the top jockeys who ordinarily struggle to do much below 8st 7Ibs. ‘Low weight races’ would not, of course, be restricted to females but would give the light male jockeys greater opportunities as at present, as weights rise to conform to the increasing body-weight of males in the population, are being penalised. 
The B.H.A. are standing still on this aspect of promoting the sport, whereas the F.A. have their shoulder to the wheel in their efforts to increase female participation in football at all levels. Yes, the B.H.A. have, perhaps, more important matters to attend to at present and finances in the sport are tight. Yet, I would suggest, one of the listed or Group 3 race they propose to axe next season could be given a new lease of life by being transformed into the richest female-jockey restricted race in the world. It’s all a matter of looking outside the box.

​You might think Julian Bedford, the complier of ‘The Racing Man’s Bedside Books’ took the easy route to publication by collating the work of famous others. Not so. Most works of fiction, anyway, based in the world of horse racing are, on average, not very good. I have contributed to the lack-lustre genre myself. ‘Going To The Last’, a collection of horse racing short stories, by K.D.Knight. Competitively priced. 
Bad form, I know, plugging one’s own efforts while providing a critique of someone’s better quality book, yet it’s a cut-throat world and Mr. Bedford would do the same for me, and as no one visits this site on a regular basis, who is to know?
Julian Bedford’s book is not new, though my copy is pristine, and was published in 2004. Two writers at the opposite end of the literary spectrum feature several times, the legendary Jeffrey Bernard and the esteemed Damon Runyon. No compendium of racing fiction can ever be published without contributions from the work of Runyon; he made his fortune writing about down-at-heel characters that inhabited U.S. racetracks. I am surprised Coolmore is yet to name one of their blue-bloods in his honour.
The book is a mingling of works of fiction, non-fiction and poetry. The poetry provided by dignitaries of the genre of no less esteem than John Betjeman, Siegfried Sassoon and Adam Lindsay-Gordon. Betjeman’s poem is a eulogy to Upper Lambourne, a surprise to me if not to the better educated amongst you.
What makes this a book a must-have for anyone interested in horse racing, and for the same reason would make a good gift for anyone who has expressed a growing interest in the sport, is the broad sweep of equine topics to be found. The first story, appropriately, is a letter, written in 1703, from one brother to another on the proposed sea-trip of the now famous Darley Arabian, the forefather of the pedigrees of so many top-class horses around the world.
To be found in the ‘Bedside Book’ are excerpts from the Timeform Annual, on St.Paddy, Anthony Trollope (his understanding of the sport caught me by surprise), racing luminaries from long ago such as Marcus Marsh, George Lambton, the Earl of Roseberry and, again surprisingly, Benjamin Disraeli and racing men better known to the present-day reader, John Hislop, obviously writing about Brigadier Gerard, the peerless David Ashforth, Jack Leach and Hugh McIlvanney.
More unexpected contributions are from Philip Larkin, Robert Morley, Evelyn Waugh and Daniel Defoe.
A similar book today, if the works of Runyon and alike were precluded, would be more difficult to collate as horses in general and horse racing in particular rarely cross paths with modern living. Celebrities may be seen at Royal Ascot or Goodwood but they are not there for the racing. They are there to be seen, to be seen with the ‘right people’ and on many occasions are invited to the racecourse by either the racecourse marketing arm or by a racing-orientated friend and are not there through a love of the sport. Perhaps that has always been true.
Even in the 60’s the connection between horse racing and the public was a secure link back into the history of a country when Parliament recessed so politicians could attend the Epsom Derby, when Prime Ministers not only owned racehorses in training but large studs, also. To own a racehorse was to display your association with the social elite. How times change!
Today, it is not even a debate on whether the sport will ever again return to its halcyon days but one of ‘will the sport survive for many more years’. Damon Runyon, George Lambton or Jeffrey Bernard would never have believed the present-day narrative of Animal Rights Activists or that the sport had anything but a never-ending future of glory and controversy. Horse racing was a sport of great hope for every sector of society. For the wealthy owner the hope of celebrating a Derby winner was on the same level as the hope of the punter to one day to win big and alter his social status from working to middle-class. Racing people live on hope. Hope is the driving force for stable staff to ride out in the rain and cold, for trainers setting off on along journey to the races, the punter to study form, for breeders to keep investing in stallion fees and hope is very much on the minds of those people financially fortunate to be able to own a racehorse.
It is important that books similar to Julian Bedford’s ‘Bedtime Book’ continue to be published as the stories, whether pure fiction or based in truth and reality, document the days when horse racing was both relevant and inspirational, without any stigma attached. On the reverse side of the coin, a modern-day version of this book would be unlikely to have contributions from supporters of the sport from the world of literature or from the world of politics or indeed any prime minister since Sir Winston Churchill.

​The ‘From Birth to Death’ welfare approach by the B.H.A. is by far their most praiseworthy strategy thus far. It is unarguable, though slightly regrettable that it came about from the point of view of defending the sport rather than having been in place for a hundred-years. Personally, I would like the B.H.A. to go one step further and have ‘The Horse Comes First’ as the number 1 statute of the sport, with no present or future rule or regulation instigated that might impinge in any shape or form on the governing aspiration of ‘the horse comes first’.
I have no capacity for remembering dates and sometimes even which decade something occurred and I rely on words or phrases along the lines ‘back along’ or ‘a while back’ when referring to annoyances and races from the past. Anyway, there was a time, not so long ago, when different factions of the sport, journalists, handicappers, bookmakers and punters, campaigned for all horses to be ridden out to the finishing post, irrespective of how tired they might be or there likely finishing position. The argument was that horses could be given ‘easy rides’ and in that event the true ability of horses was being hidden from the punter and handicapper, in particular. It truly was a case of ‘sod the horse’, the punter comes first and let’s make the handicappers job easier for them. I was aroused from my lethargy to put pen to paper and write to either the Sporting Life or Racing Post to point out the arrant nonsense being argued and the perception it would transmit to our baying detractors. Again, I am not sure of which decade I am referring to. But a dire proposal to shoot ourselves in the foot!
I will not reference Irish racing as there is one appalling case of a trainer being found guilty twice for animal cruelty who was not sentenced to either a life-ban or to be hung, drawn and quartered, that continues to boil my blood and thus far, although verging on lenient on the rare occasion such cases come before them, the B.H.A. have not let someone off with what I would consider ‘a charitable sentence’.
The problem with commenting on any case when ignorant of all the relevant facts is that you have no first-hand knowledge of the people at the sharp end of the charges against them and sentiment can guide your thoughts to make a claim that can verge from unfair to downright wrong. So, what I say now, is opinion based on the reporting of the case in the Racing Post.
Lee James has received a 3-year-ban from holding a licence to train racehorses by the B.H.A. for ‘not fulfilling his duty of care’ to a horse in his charge, Iconic Figure. He was given two 15-month bans for breaching the ‘duty to promote the welfare of horses’ and a further six-months for ‘failing to act on veterinary advice’. I might have accepted the punishment if the 3-years punishment began on the day he was found guilty. But the sentence was backdated to the day he was first charged with the offence and as a result he can reapply for his licence in November 2024. This is a charitable sentence and in no way does it signal the message to the public other licenced individuals that there is no defence when it comes to neglect and cruelty. 
In cases where a licenced individual is found guilty of neglect or cruelty to a horse in their care they should also be further charged with bringing the sport into disrepute and given a life-ban from the sport. Zero tolerance, as it should be for doping a horse to win or stopping it from winning. It may sound twee and juvenile, but horses truly are our future. If we do not place their welfare before all other considerations our detractors could easily win over the middle-ground public and horse racing in this country will be go the same way as racing in Singapore that is to end in 2024 due the government taking back the land on which Kranji racecourse is constructed. A chilling story in itself.
Individuals found guilty of neglect or cruelty should be classed as pariahs. That said, and in the present financial plight that governs all-things this is doubtful not feasible, a fund should be established, in cases of urgency, to be assessable by anyone licenced by the B.H.A. if they are unable to afford the veterinary intervention required to save the life of a horse. A dream scenario, I agree, but an aspiration that should be debated if not adopted. Nothing should be too much or too expensive if ‘the horse truly comes first’. I would argue that a fund of half-a-million quid could annually be raised if a small percentage was shaved off the prize-funds of all races worth six-figures or more. Without the aspiration, there can be no ambition to enhance horse welfare within the racing industry.
Finally, where is Iconic Figure now? Has he recovered from the regime of malnourishment imposed on him? Is he leading an active life? It seems, from third-party viewing, that the victim has been misplaced in the telling of this regrettable news story.