​Everything that is good about Irish racing can be found at the Galway Festival. Amateur jump jockeys mix with flat race apprentices; Grand National winning jockeys mix with Epsom Derby winning jockeys; the champion flat jockey shares a weighing room with the champion National Hunt jockey. Aidan O’Brien will have runners there this week, as will, of course, Willie Mullins.
Today, the main race of the day is a 2-mile 1-furlong handicap on the flat for amateur riders. Where else in the world would you find such a race as the feature and with a six-figure prize fund? Only in Ireland. Only at Galway. And no one questions the merit of the race. And the quality of the Galway Plate this week would do justice to the Cheltenham Festival. The Galway Festival is a 7-day craic extravaganza and demonstrates how horse racing and the inhabitants of its homeland can come together for the benefit of all.
In Great Britain we are too stuffy to have a Galway-like racing festival. For some reason, though it was accepted not so many years ago, the B.H.A. do not approve of flat racing and National Hunt mixed cards. There is a mixed card at Haydock in late April/early May but it sits alone in the calendar since the old Whitbread meeting at Sandown was split into two distinct days, one for the flat and one for National Hunt. Though I think that decision was for the betterment of the jumps season, I do not see why mixed cards cannot be reintroduced, especially with the number of National Hunt races to be reduced in 2024. 
What is there to prevent Wetherby staging a mixed card, now that Wetherby stage a few flat meetings in early summer. Or Worcester, a course that used to stage flat racing. Or Chester, a course that has suggested having hurdle races in the past.
Although I would not expect to see a Galway-style meeting in this country, it might be an idea to have a week of mixed racing at a time in the flat season when everything is low-key, perhaps between two of the big festivals, with the racing as varied as it is at Galway.

Having watched a spectacular King George & Queen Elizabeth Stakes at Ascot on Saturday it is galling to read in today’s Racing Post that both Jim Crowley and Rob Hornby violated the whip rules, with Crowley expected to get a long ban due to the totting-up process. It was also hinted that the possibility of Hukum being disqualified also remains a possibility.
Look, I am a proponent of limiting use of the whip to one-strike and it disappoints me that jockeys continue to go over the present limit of six-strokes. Yet I saw nothing in Saturday’s race that I thought was harmful to the image of the sport. I witnessed two courageous horses and two exceptional jockeys in a duel for supremacy. Neither combination deserved to lose and neither jockey deserve sanction for the ride they gave their mounts. The B.H.A. believe the perception of the public is a matter of greater import than the perception offered to the public when they suspend our top jockeys for long periods for breaking the whip rules. They are wrong.
I remain convinced we must follow the line of travel and prepare ourselves for a sport where use of the whip will become as illegal by law in society as child-beating. It is why I believe there should be whip-restricted races throughout the season, perhaps four or five a week, for professional riders. It is why I believe one-strike is the right number and that over the next four or five seasons the number of strikes should be reduced by one each season to reach that single number.
In this matter the B.H.A. have proved itself totally incompetent.

The Gambling Commission is proving itself equally incompetent. I would urge anyone visiting this website to read today’s copy of the Racing Post (July 31st 2023) and both Lee Mottershead’s column and the letters’ column. Lee writes on the intricacies and rank stupidness of the proposed legislation and in the letters column a personal insight into the cruel consequences of the proposed legislation. In fact, after reading Lee Mottershead, I think the Racing Post should apply for a charity handout as the journalists working for the paper are in a far better position to help those afflicted with gambling addiction than many of the organisations currently receiving bookmaker-funded charity funds that amount to six-figures or more. Indeed, there is more than a whiff of possible corruption, perhaps only laziness, involved between the Gambling Commission and those that come out of left field claiming to be experts in the field of gambling addiction. As was the case when the government issued P.P.E. contracts worth millions-of-pounds to any Johnney-come-lately from sweet wrapping manufacturers to brand new business start-ups owned by relatives or friends of ministers.

​I’ll be honest; I only bought ‘Paddock Personalities’ by John Fairfax-Blakeborough as someone contacted me to ask if I could provide any information on Patrick Cowley, National Hunt champion jockey in 1908 and I was aware he was mentioned in the book. Not that I regret the expense as I have far too few racing books of this vintage in my small library and elderly appearing tomes give a library gravitas.
For ease of brain and for brevity I will refer to the author as J.F.B. 
‘Paddock Personalities’ was published in 1935 and is a book that would find no favour with publishers nowadays as it has no clear narrative and wanders through the life and recollections of a man who rode as an amateur, owned racehorses, trained in a small way, published many books on racing, including a biography a Matthew Dobson Peacock, the legendary Middleham trainer, and was a steward at many northern racecourses.
Remarkably, he wrote of personal reminiscences of Fred Archer, Steve Donoghue and Gordon Richards, including a quote by Archer where he admitted that the use of whip lost him more races than it won him. The book is laced together by surnames that have lingered in the sport’s history throughout the proceeding decades: Armstrong, Bartholomew, Beasley, Bewicke, Cazalet, Easterby, Elsey, Hanmer, Harrington, Hastings, Joel, Loder, McCalmont, Nightingall, (Not Nightingale, as I pronounced and spelt his name almost all my life until corrected by someone with a greater eye for detail than I possess) Peacock, Renwick, Rickaby, Rimell, Rogerson, Roseberry, Smyth, Straker, Watts, Wragg, Zetland, and many more.
Being a northerner himself, J.C.B. knew the trainers that inhabited Middleham, Malton and Hambleton as personal friends and wrote of the destruction of the famous Hambleton gallops by Sir Matthew Dodsworth, a man who in later life became anti-racing and planted trees and built walls across a moorland gallop that ran straight for 3-miles. There used to be an ancient racecourse on Hambleton Moor, Black Hambleton, and until 1776 the King’s Plate was held there, a very prestigious race at the time.
Many of the great racing stables of the present era such as Heath House and Stanley House are referred to through their incumbents of the time, as well as the great northern powerhouses at the time as with Spigot Lodge and Whitewall, a training yard that went under the developers shovel in J.F.B.’s time.
There are many a casual reference that perhaps meant so much more at the time of publication than they do now, though I personally appreciated the information that Eremon and Jenkinstown, the 1907 and 1910 Grand National winners ‘sleep’ peaceably at the Danebury training grounds, as does Bay Middleton. In fact, though a good deal of what J.F.B. communicated to his readers in 1935 is pure foggy history to his readers of 2023, I suspect much of it was gossipy gold dust to readers living in an age when even the wireless was still relatively new technology. He even allowed others to tell their stories in their own words such as Harry Taylor and Tom Jennings. Indeed, you can open this book at any random page to find something of interest.
J.F.B. wrote about racecourses long gone, some that even escaped mention in ‘A Long Time Gone’. Chris Pitts wonderful memorial to Britain’s racecourse history. Newcastle is referred to as Gosforth Park and he quotes locals who in J.F.B.’s time still longed for the first Carlisle racecourses that was known as Swifts.
Though I suggested a book similar to ‘Paddock Personalities’ would not find favour with modern-day publishers, it is the sort of narrative that would suit a raconteur and history-buff such as Sir Mark Prescott, a great man of racing who stubbornly refuses every opportunity to write his autobiography. 
If I recall correctly, a pristine copy of this book purchased from ‘Ways of Newmarket’ might set you back hundreds of pounds. My slightly foxed copy, with no wrapper, cost only £30. It is reference book I will no doubt turn to repeatedly during my time left on this Earth. Long-ago authors such as J.F.B. are owed a great debt for committing to record the contemporary history of the sport. Perhaps a northern racecourse might consider naming a race in memory and thanks to J.C.B. A northern turf stalwart if ever there was one.

​Affordability checks for punters is part and parcel of the aim of government, and governments around the world, to control every aspect of citizens’ lives. Banks not allowing certain people personal and business accounts, as with Nigel Farage and the bookmakers featured in todays Racing Post, is another example of state oversight. Remember, the long-term financial policy is for a cashless society and a universal credit system that allows government to know the amounts people are spending, where it is being spent and is a system where ‘they’ have greater control of our finances than we will have. If you exceed the speed limit in your car, the fine will automatically be taken from your bank account; if you make a comment on social media that ‘they’ ascribe to misinformation – a comment that goes against the official narrative – a fine can be imposed without your immediate knowledge and the money taken from your bank account or credit score. Think China and you have a fair idea of what is round the corner for us all. Affordability checks will eventually be rolled-out to many other sectors of society. If British racing engaged with the wider public on this matter, taking into account my comments, comments backed by many financial and social commentators, greater support for fighting the line of travel might be garnered. Make no mistake, government lies to us. What they say is only half the truth of the matter.
To get back on track. The King George & Queen Elizabeth Stakes at Ascot this Saturday looks a real cracker; possibly the highest quality flat race in this country for many years. It is like the good old days when because of a lack of viable opportunities elsewhere, the best horses took each other on in the best races. I want Pyledriver to win. I expect King of Steel to win. I wouldn’t be surprised by any result other than Hamish winning.
The Racing League is back. Still failing to achieve its goal of increasing attendance numbers, something that will not be helped by I.T.V. televising each and every race as that is just another disincentive for people to get in their cars to be in attendance for any of the six Racing League fixtures. It’s a dud concept and the organisers should fall on their sword and admit defeat. It cannot succeed as it does not reflect the true nature of horse-racing. If someone new to the sport attends Yarmouth tonight and enjoys the team spirit and attends the next Yarmouth fixture, he or she will be surprised and disappointed to discover that horse racing is in fact not based on fictional teams that have nothing much in common with the regions the jockeys, trainers and owners are supposed to represent. For the Racing League to have a future, horse racing would have to become Team Gosden, Team Balding, Team Henderson, Team Nicholls, with assigned riders that only the team they are attached to able to ride for Team Gosden, Team Balding, etc, etc. The prize-money is good, though, though if they can assemble that sort of money for a dud like the Racing League, why can’t it just be put into six proper fixtures?
The competitiveness of British racing will only be achieved by less race meetings, especially in an era when the number of horses in training is decreasing, as are the number of licenced trainers. It’s not rocket science, is it? Also, with the eternal problem of attracting young people into the sport, it would also make sense to limit the number of horses any one trainer can have in a stable at any one time. If the limit were to be 150 or 125, those trainers with over 200 horses in their care would need less staff, with those people dispersed around all those trainers who are currently understaffed. Such a policy, if only brought-in for a limited number of years, would benefit the industry as a whole.
The issue of the decrease in licenced trainers – down 17% in Britain and 13% in Ireland – is caused by economics and the horrendous increase in every product used and consumed in a racing stable. Largely, it is an issue that is out of British racing’s hands. The above solution – limiting the number of horses any one trainer can have – would improve competitiveness and allow more trainers to, if not make a profit, at least break even and allow an incentive to struggle on rather than throw in the towel.
There may not be a credible climate crisis but there is crisis British racing must survive and the B.H.A. and others should be debating possible policies to help trainers keep in business, otherwise in the future the sport will be kept alive by Team Gosden taking on Team Balding and Team Henderson taking on Team Nicholls, with no other competition in town!

​The Racing Post is doing another of its polls. This time they want Racing Post readers to nominate their favourite racehorse of all-time. Not the best horse of all-time, a poll they conducted in the past and which it was far easier to choose a nomination. This time round it will be agonising to decide between former favourites and current favourites. The only aspect of the choice that is easy to predict is that my nomination will be a gelding and from National Hunt.
This time around I will not be choosing Arkle. ‘Himself’ remains the greatest racehorse of British and Irish history and will, I suspect, remain so for ever more as modern racehorses have far easier tasks set them, allowing for no performances that defy reason. Of recent years only Trueshan’s Northumberland Plate victory comes close to the weights Arkle gave away in the major handicaps. Though on reflection, Denman’s two Hennessey Chase wins are a modern equivalent. Arkle did hump 12st 7Ib to his handicap victories, giving away 2-st or more to his rivals. So its not even a case of apples or pears.
Having read about the life of Brown Jack in R.C. Lyle’s biography of the great stayer, he is a favourite of mine. We lived, though, in different eras and in fairness to the horses that have won my heart during my lifetime, I cannot nominate him. I hope someone does. He deserves to be remembered.
On the flat Brigadier Gerard, Persian Punch and Frankel have warmed the cockles of my heart, though I cannot, hand on heart, claim them as favourites, not in the sense they have rendered my heart to flutter in astonishment and pure love.
Spanish Steps was my first love and if the correspondence I receive is anything to go, he will be near the top of the poll and in my list of favourites he is above his frequent conqueror Red Rum in my personal list of nominations. Spanish Steps personified the golden age of steeplechasing in this country. He emerged at a time when the exploits of Arkle, Mill House and Flyingbolt were recent memories. He was short of their stature, yet he was a mainstay of all the major steeplechases. Michael Tanner did not write a biography of the great horse; he wrote a 100-page love-letter to the horse. ‘My Friend, Spanish Steps. How I envy his association with the horse
Spanish Step’s dam, Tiberetta, is one of those mares whose name is synonymous with National Hunt. Both were owned by Edward Courage, a wheelchair-bound permit trainer and benefactor of the sport. ‘Steps’ wasn’t overly-big, though he had a heart of a lion. He won 16 of his 78 races and was placed in 29, including in 3 Grand Nationals, breaking the existing course record in 1973 in the greatest horse race ever run (the Racing Post poll for the greatest race ever run got it wrong) behind Red Rum, Crisp and L’Escargot. He’s in my heart and will be until I draw my last breath.
But then Denman came along and stole my heart, if only for then. I acknowledge that Arkle is the greatest racehorse of all time and I will defend his reputation till the day I die and my everlasting hope is that I will see his like again. Constitution Hill, though he possesses the look of a champion, will never exceed Arkle as it is highly doubtful if he will ever even compete in a handicap, let alone allow a comparison with the heroic deeds of Arkle. When Denman won his Gold Cup I believed, or allowed myself to believe, we had, at least, a successor to the great horse. His heart condition blew that hope out of the water, yet, due to the brilliance of his trainer, he came back 2-years after his Gold Cup triumph and won a second Hennessey. Fate disallowed him the mantle of the ‘best since Arkle’, a crown that his stable-mate Kauto Star took to his grave with him. I loved Kauto; I worshipped Denman.
Then there is Sprinter Sacre and that day in 2016 when he reclaimed his 2-mile crown 3-years after his inaugural victory, finally overcoming the same heart condition that befell Denman. It is my favourite race of my lifetime and, yes, no matter how many replays of the race I watch, it still renders me to tears. I have no doubt that next to Arkle, in his pomp Sprinter Sacre was the closest we have ever come to a ‘greatest of all-time’, yet, again, as with Denman, fate robbed us of what might have been.
But this accolade is not about the best, it is about horses that have touched our hearts and remain central to our memories. Dublin Flyer is such a horse; a horse I wanted to win every time, a horse that would be in the running for a poll of the best jumper of a fence. The Dikler was a horse I adored, a horse that might have won a Grand National if he had been given the opportunity earlier in his career.
At present, I love Goshen and hope every time he runs that he’ll either delight with his eccentricities or win for the Moores’ and his devoted followers. And then there is Frodon.
Where Spanish Steps was my first love and, I suspect, the horse I will vote for, Frodon will be my last love. He exudes a love for life and I would like to have an Animal Rising supporter sit down to watch Frodon race and then explain how he or she believes that he is being forced to jump and race. No horse has ever exemplified the wonder of the sport as Frodon does. Yes, he never was a truly great horse and last season showed he is on the downward slope to retirement. But his exploits deserve a book to be written about his life and his win in the Ryanair will remain part and parcel of Cheltenham Festival history.
I’m going to give this matter some thought, although my final choice will come not from my head but from my heart. It’s either Spanish Steps or Frodon. It’s like having to choose your favourite child, isn’t it?
I will return to this subject; hopefully to do a better job of determining my true thoughts.

​I am a fierce defender of our sport and I would hope when I level criticism at the B.H.A. and others it is a demonstration of how much I care about the past, present and future of the sport. For many years I was critical of the after-care that was in place for ex-racehorses and had several letters published on the subject in the Sporting Life and in the early years of the Racing Post. Thankfully, not because of any comments of mine, I admit, it is a situation that has remarkedly improved during the past decade.
What does irk me, though, and this will make me seem a real old grouch, which perhaps I am, is how the sport can raise millions of pounds for human-based charities through designated race-days, as at York with their cancer charity meeting in June and in Ireland the cancer charity in the name of the late and much missed Pat Smullen. I am not suggesting these money-raising days should be jettisoned. I just wish the industry could achieve similar amounts of donations for equine charities.
Yes, Newbury has a day’s racing dedicated to the Greatwood charity and there are other related racing days for similar causes. But nothing that goes anywhere close to emulating York’s charity day.
2024 might be a good time to start to place our house in order on this subject. When it comes to defending our sport against those who wish the sport to go the way of badger-baiting and cock-fighting we are always on the back foot. It does the sport no favours that the B.H.A. is a reactive body and not proactive. Instead of being on top of developing problems the B.H.A. always lags behind and to catch-up they will latch on to any proposal that fools the public into believing they have everything in hand.
‘From Birth to Death’ is a heart-warming initiative but it has to be delivered in full. No ex-racehorse should end up in a general slaughterhouse. Racehorses are the heartbeat and soul of the sport and deserve to be treated as royally as is practically possible right till the moment of their last breath.
The equine charities of this country should never be allowed to be sort of funds and it is the duty of everyone who derives their living off the back of their efforts and sacrifices to ensure they have funds beyond the amount required for day-to-day expenses. If only a fraction of a per-cent of the purchase price of every horse sold at auction during the year could be donated to equine charities the sport might be able to finance retirement homes fit for ex-racehorses.
I have suggested to deaf ears that the Grand National might be linked to equine charities to help horses in trouble and at risk at home and abroad. Why can’t the powers-that-be understand that our Achilles heel is horse welfare? Remember the song and the film ‘They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?’ That’s the opinion of Animal Rising and other critics have of our sport. Every horse that dies on our racecourses is manna to them. They rejoice in going on social media armed with the latest death and paint us as horse murderers fuelled by cruel hearts. We cannot prevent death on the racecourse. It is always a tragedy; it is a part of life. We hate it; we regret it, but ultimately it is something that is out of our capabilities to prevent. Ensuring no ex-racehorses suffers neglect is within our reach. Ensuring every retiring racehorse has a life outside of the racehorse is part and parcel of our duty of care.
The public must be given the opportunity to witness that our kindness to racehorses extends to their years beyond the racecourse. We can only achieve this aspiration if the funds are in place for equine charities to be able to extend their good work. I know it is now a dead duck but a fifth-day at the Cheltenham Festival could have been a day dedicated to raising funds for equine charities. ‘Super Saturday’ might be linked to the same cause.
Charity begins at home. Let’s get some unity amongst the factions and aspire to raise huge amounts of money every year so all our brave heroes are rewarded with a secure and happy retirement. Why can’t we organise ourselves to show the rest of the world how much we care about the horses that are pivotal to the earning potential of every human who works in the industry.
If it is good publicity to raise money for cancer research, why can’t it be good publicity to raise similar amounts of cash to support equine charities? Many times, we are our own worst enemies!

​Anyone who is fascinated with how racehorses were trained and fed in past decades will bear witness to the fact that the intelligent and knowledgeable trainer and head man pre 2nd World War and for the following couple of decades held a greater collective wisdom of the horses in their care than their modern equivalents. That is not to criticise our present-day trainers and their senior staff. Today, to a great extent, at least in a routine sort of way, feed merchants determine what goes in a horse’s manger or food bowl, with science also having a secondary determining influence. Nuts, for all they contain the necessary vitamins and minerals a racehorse requires for best performance on the gallops and racecourse, are a one-fits-all feeding method.
If you are fortunate to be present at feeding time in a racehorse stable, it is clear why racehorse nuts have become the industry standard method of feeding. The nuts are tipped into a large wheeled container and pushed door to door, the nuts dispensed quickly into bowls that can be accessed, certainly in modern barn complexes, without need to open stable doors. I am not of the opinion this is wrong in any way, though it does appear more like feeding time at the zoo, rather than a reasoned approach to the dietary needs of each individual equine athlete.
In the past, and again, I am not suggesting the modern is wrong and the past knew best, trainers would feed by eye, by the state of the dung of each horse, by the coat of the horse, whether he was skittish or lethargic and how he ate his food.
Because of the stringent anti-doping rules in place, I would imagine trainers are terrified of a member of staff or well-meaning owner giving a horse an outside food source in case it should contain a minute amount of a banned substance that days or even weeks down the line might present itself in analysis of an after-race sample of urine. There might even be ‘do not feed the animals’ signs found in racecourse stables.
When I was young, racehorse cubes, as I think they used to be called, were a novelty that older trainers were suspicious of, preferring to stick to rolled oats and bran at feed times. Modern trainers swear by the convenience of nuts and are, I believe, suspicious of bedding their horses on straw. Yet, if you were to research the subject, horses in hard work in the pre-war years, and certainly pre 1st World War, that were consuming 18lb or more of oats were naturally more inclined to eat their straw bedding than the finest hay in their racks. Hence, as Horace-Hayes wrote, ‘the so-called vice of eating straw bedding is often an act of obedience to the stimulus of a healthy appetite’. Also, carrots are today fed in small quantities as a treat, as are apples and polo mints, yet they are a wonderful alternative to several hours of grass intake and far more valuable as a food source during the winter months.
In days of old, trainers considered it a great benefit to give racehorses in hard training a rest from its usual grub and for a day or two would increase the quantity of hay through the day and feed them carrots, apples, dandelions, roots and all, even parsnips and swede, if the horse is inclined, plus a cold mash in the morning and a hot mash, perhaps with linseed and other ‘goodies’ in the evening. R.D. Stewart thought the change in diet the equivalent of ‘a good lie-up in bed to the hardened working man’. To Stewart, this break in dietary regime would refresh the nervous system.
Something that used to bother me was the time a horse would go between his last meal and racing. If a horse was to leave early for the racecourse, his or her first feed of the day would be brought forward in order the food could be digested before travelling. Yet, apart from a small amount of hay, possibly, that horse would doubtless not eat again until he reaches home again, irrespective of whether the race is mid-day or early evening. To me, that was too long to go without sustenance. I know I would faint if I didn’t eat for most of the day before undergoing such a hard task as the racehorse must face. 
The title of this piece is ‘Horse Bread’ and though there are different recipes, the one in John Fairfax-Blakeborough’s book ‘Paddock Personalities’ is: Take wheat-meal, one peck (2-gallons), rye-meal, beans and oatmeal, all ground very small, of each half-a-peck, aniseeds, and liquorish, of each one ounce, white sugar candy four ounces, all in fine powder, the yolks and whites of twenty eggs well beaten and so much white wine as will knead it into a paste. Make this into great loaves, bake them well and after they be two or three days old, let them eat, but chip away the outside.
If you are surprised by the use of white wine, don’t be. The famous Irish stout is, or was, a staple for any horse considered a ‘poor doer’, with every variety of booze from whiskey to sherry used to ‘pep-up’ the appetite of a horse. The ‘jady’ or lazy horse might even be given a 3rd of a bottle of whiskey before a race. Do modern rules on doping preclude such a practice today? Are inebriated horses against the rules? 
Of course, before the honourable George Lambton kicked-up a fuss about it in the 1920’s, horses were regularly abused with cocaine, with the consequence that though the horse, where before it was lethargic in a race, would bolt up, as it cooled it would be in such a mad frenzy it might cause itself, or anyone coming into contact with it, great harm. Doping in all its forms was quite legal until the early part of the last century. To prove doping was in regular use in British racing, having instructed the Jockey Club of his intentions, he doped three of his least useful horses, all of which, if I remember correctly, all won their races at long odds.
In conclusion, though the past may be a different country, I believe, and even suggest, that those trainers who cannot compete in terms of numbers and quality, might want to think outside the box and consult the writings of long dead equine experts to discover the (legal) tricks of the feed room that might help restore a horse to form or even transform their form from useless to better.

​The proliferation of sprint races is the ruination of flat racing. There, that is my opinion. And the lust for speed by breeders needs to be curtailed in any way possible. As controversial as my comments may be, as out-of-step with horse racing around the world, as they may be, I am convinced the sport is being led down a cul-de-sac by breeders who breed speed to speed. As the trend is going, in a decade or two, four-furlongs will be stretching the stamina of many thoroughbreds.
In general, though there will be outliers who provide evidence to suggest I am wrong, after their lives on the racecourse, except mares, of course, and the lucky few colts that have achieved enough on the racecourse to retire to the stallion sheds, ex-sprinters are very difficult to retrain for any other branch of equestrianism. Pony-sized thoroughbred are, I admit, sought after by players of polo, though not so much the older sprinter, of which there are a great many.
Breeders of sprinters, I believe, are giving no consideration to the after- racing care lives of the horses they breed. Yes, it will be heard that sprinters are greatly valued by racehorse owners in other parts of the world, though not so highly appreciated as milers and middle-distance horses, of which there is a smaller pool of availability. 
The sprint-bred ex-racehorse is unlikely to make for a good ride out hunting. And the majority of sprint-bred horses are too ingrained to go as fast as they are able to make a good fist of things show-jumping at any level from junior rider upwards or eventing or point-to-pointing. And they make poor hurdlers and chasers, though the exploits of Red Rum tell a different story. There will be other exceptions but in general I am correct in my comments.
One of the reasons left unsaid by racing professionals to explain the lessening of competition in the major races on the flat is the fascination commercial breeders have for speed at the expense of stamina. Yet: The highlight of the flat season is the Epsom Derby, a race over 1-mile 4-furlongs. Three of the five English and Irish classics are middle-distance races, with St.Legers verging on being described as staying races. The highlight of Royal Ascot, and has been for 200-years, is the 2-mile 4-furlong Ascot Gold Cup. The highlight of summer is the King George & Queen Elizabeth Stakes at Ascot, which is again a middle-distance race. The greatest prize in flat racing in Europe is the 1-mile and 4-furlong Arc de Triomphe. No race around the world over either of the spring distances falls into the category of a ‘classic’.
The French committed the sin of cutting the distance of both their Derby and Oaks by two-furlongs to appease the vogue for speed, throwing stamina out with the bathwater. There is now a call for Ireland to do the same. Soon the same shout will be heard for Epsom to follow suit. Next it will the Guineas classics reduced to 7-furlongs. The rut has begun. It must be halted. How, my first step would be to take prize-money away from Group 1 sprints and put the saving towards the Group 1 middle-distance races. Positive discrimination. At least, that would be a start. Sod the line of travel in the U.S., Australia and beyond. We need to be breeding stamina back into the blood-lines of the European thoroughbred. Speed is not king; it is the devil. The devilment in our sport.
That said.
As you may have gathered, I am no fan of sprint races, especially two-year-old sprints. Though that is a view for another day. Perhaps tomorrow. And I cannot put a name to any sprinter of my lifetime to have excited enthusiasm in me as has Julie Camacho’s Shaquille. He is a constant source of fascination, be it his demeanour in the parade ring, his attitude going down to the start, how he loads into the stalls and, of course, how he leaves the stalls. He is box-office.
His performance at Royal Ascot in the Commonwealth Cup will be engrained in every racing fan’s memory for a lifetime, even mine. It should have been mission impossible to give away 6 to 8-lengths in a fast-run six-furlong race and to win going away. By the way, anyone harbouring the belief that Oisin Murphy isn’t a wonderful horseman and jockey after the cool, confidant ride he gave Shaquille, needs to re-evaluate everything he or she knows about the sport. Along with Tom Marquand’s ride on the King’s horse, it was the ride of the meeting.
Rossa Ryan, a jockey and young man rising in my estimation by the day, deserves less high praise as he was run away with the middle furlongs of the July Cup and should have admitted the fact in the aftermath of the race. The truth is, Shaquille runs his own races. He’s a star now and doesn’t he know it. Be it James Doyle, Oisin Murphy or Rossa Ryan next on board, be aware, Shaquille will do his thing and don’t think your contribution to the race will over-ride the tactics he wishes to employ. As his groom said in response to Sally-Anne Grassick’s request for a slow walk back to the winners’ enclosure. “He doesn’t really do slow.”
And to think he is ridden at home by that same young lady.
I hope Shaquille stays sound and stays in training as a 4 and 5-year-old as he can only get better and faster as he matures. If he matures. And I hope his breeder and his partners in the horse do not fall to the temptation of selling him for big money. Julie Camacho and her husband and staff are doing a spectacular job keeping a lid on Shaquille’s eccentricities and deserve every accolade going for their achievements so far with the horse that is close to a certainty to become flat racehorse of the year.

​If you listen to ex-jockeys of either code assessing a race for the benefit of television viewers, the greatest ‘crime’ a licenced jockeys can commit in a race is to let someone up their inner coming into the straight, in the straight or in a driving finish. In the past, and usually commented upon in a positive manner, jockeys in their autobiographies will disclose how ‘they shut the door’ on a colleague mounting a challenge on their inside. It made little difference if the opposition was put through a wing of a hurdle or fence or if the other jockey had to violently snatch-up his mount to avoid a serious accident. And woe betide a young whippersnapper if he chose to go up the inside of one of the older generation!
But that was then. Now is a different era.
Jamie Spencer is, in my opinion, one of the most naturally gifted flat jockeys of his generation. He is also one of the canniest. In Ireland, recently, he picked up a six-day suspension for allowing his mount to veer into the path of rivals running in a close bunch on the rail. The potential outcome was a nightmare incident that on another occasion might have caused injury or worse to horses or riders. I do not believe Jamie Spencer made too great an effort to keep his horse straight as winning the race was of greater importance. Let’s change the scenario: if Jamie had been delayed on his way to the races and he caused a similar collision as he did at the Curragh in his car on the motorway, would the judge grant him leniency due to him ‘being in a hurry to get to work?’ Me thinks not.
In the past, nudge and jostling was allowed by jockeys as part and parcel of race-riding. In our more enlightened turf society, we view deliberate bumping and boring as potential for death and injury. Frankie Dettori received a nine-day ban from the Royal Ascot stewards for allowing his mount to come across a horse in behind causing the jockey to snatch-up his mount to prevent a serious incident. Nine-days was fair, in my opinion. The ban he received for the whip offence in the Queen Anne was out of proportion to the offence, though.
To my way of thinking, the incident involving Jamie Spencer in Ireland had far greater potential for possible injury to horses and jockeys than the crime committed by Dettori. Gina Mangan, an experienced 3lb claimer, is about to start a 35-day ban for a succession of whip offences. Personally, I believe a more appropriate penalty would be a 35-day period of being unable to use a whip in earnest a race as it would give her 35-days to learn a whole new philosophy on how little the whip truly helps a jockey win a race. The legendary Fred Archer is quoted as saying that he lost more races through the use of the whip than the whip ever helped him win. Yet, to return to the plight of Mangan, did she in any of the races where she was found foul of the whip rules endanger the lives of her fellow jockeys? I contend Jamie Spencer’s ride at the Curragh, where he made little effort to correct the misdemeanour of his mount, endangered the well-being of his fellow jockeys and the horses they were riding. Six-days was far too lenient if the authorities have any ambition to make the racecourse a safer environment for horse and rider. A disqualification was in order, in my opinion, with his suspension at least doubled.
In defence of Jamie Spencer, and here I accept he did not intentionally veer his horse into the path of his rivals, and if that is the truth of the matter, the misdemeanour was caused not by his riding but by the inclination of his mount and this makes it a different ball-game to Dettori’s riding at Royal Ascot on Saga as he made the decision to close the gap on horses following him. Not that I believe Spencer made every effort possible to keep his mount on an even keel. To my mind, his riding was only a smidgeon short of the philosophy of winning at any cost.
The B.H.A. continue to make scapegoats out of jockeys. The bans handed out on a regular basis to jockeys for exceeding whip rules by one or two strikes multiplied by five indiscretions is tarring our jockeys’ reputations as carpet-beaters. Yet on the other hand jockeys are being given lenient punishments for incidents that have the potential for death and injury. I still remain at odds with the 4-day ban Hollie Doyle picked-up at Royal Ascot when she did all that could have been expected of a jockey to correct the misdemeanour of her mount, added to which the incident did not cause Hart to stop riding and the stewards deemed the incident made no difference to the result of the race. It was slap of the wrists for the sake of a slap of the wrists.
Look, driving on a busy motorway frightens the crap out of me, riding in a big-field handicap on lightly-raced three-year-olds would send me to a religious retreat or asylum. Like me, stewards and the people of the B.H.A. have no experience of race-riding and their judgements on those that do continue to fall well short of the standard a professional authority should be seeking to achieve.
I believe the following:
There must be an imperative on jockeys keeping their mounts running in a straight line at all sectors of a race.
Hampering a rival through bumping, boring or plain gamesmanship should result in disqualification to last place.
Careless and dangerous riding should be one and the same thing.
Jockey suspensions should become an embargo on using a whip in any way other than to prevent an accident for a similar period as now being imposed. Jockeys should not be suspended from riding.
There should be ‘hands and heels’ race for professional flat jockeys as there are occasionally for apprentices. If professional jockeys are not obliged to ride a finish without the aid of a whip, we have nothing to compare with races where the whip is all important to a jockey.

​Once upon a time, a time long, long ago, an owner with his own stable of racehorses was asked where he got his apprentices from. ‘I breed ‘em on the estate’, he replied straight-faced.
Trainers at the time insisted on starting apprentices at ages no more than nine or ten, arguing that that it was almost impossible to make jockeys of boys if they start out in their teens. At the time John Fairfax-Blakeborough wrote ‘Paddock Personalities’ the Education Act had made the procuring boys of nine or ten for work in racing stables defiance of a well-intentioned law, whether ‘bred on the estate’ or from the slums of Manchester – John Osborne preferred the rough and ready boy as his hardened outlook on life bred into him by deprivation and starvation made him better suited to what he had to overcome to be a successful jockey.
If you remember, in the early 1950’s trainers could still have boys apprenticed to them in their teens if it were their sons, as was the case with Lester Piggott who was apprenticed to his father and rode in his first race aged 13.
Even Lester was not street-wise when he had his first experience of the racecourse, so consider what it must have been like for little George Thompson who back in the days of match-races was thrown-up on one of his father’s horses. His father was led to believe the main condition of the race was ‘owners up’ but when he saw his opponent was to be ridden by a ‘Malton featherweight, he jockeyed himself off and threw-up his 7-year-old son who weighed only 2-st 13-lbs. Whether the boy had ever sat on a racehorse Fairfax-Blakeborough did not record, though as the boy’s instructions were ‘Hold the reins tight and as soon as they say ‘Go’ come home as fast as you can,’ one could be forgiving for believing that it was an original and unforgettable experience for the lad. He won and in later life became ‘a wonderful amateur jockey’. So all’s well that ends well. 
Of course, 2-st 13-lbs was quite heavy compared to an apprentice called Reynolds, aged 12, when he rode Koodoo to victory in the 1840 Wokingham Stakes for Captain Becher, he of Aintree fame. Young Reynolds’ walking weight’, as J.F.B. describes it, was 2-st 1-lbs.
In 1927 at Newbury an apprentice named Ian Martin had his first ride in public aged 10. Half a century before, Martin’s father had won the Cesarewitch going to scale at 3-st 10lbs. Percy Woodland rode his first winner aged 12 in a chase at Lingfield.
At odds with the commonsense and forward-thinking that J.F.B. usually conveyed to his readers, he was critical of the Education Act as he believed keeping boys at school until their teens was responsible for the overall lowering quality of the jockeys riding at the time he penned ‘Paddock Personalities’. He also believed that establishing what we now refer to as riding academies would never be a success as the only place a boy could learn the skills of a jockey was under the tuition of a trainer.
Of course, going to work in a racing yard as young as ten would be quite traumatic whether ‘bred on the estate’ or a north country shipyard, it must have taken on a whole different perspective if you add-on beginning your life as an apprentice in a foreign stable. Joe Thwaites was the son of a Stockton-on-Tees shipyard worker and how he ended up apprenticed to Rowland Carter in Chantilly, France, J.F.B. does not explain. Thwaites weighed only 4-stone and had to have a special saddle made for him. He returned to England after 12-months when Carter died suddenly and described his time in France as one of the happiest periods of his life. When he returned to England, because of the Education Act, he wasn’t allowed to work in a racing yard until he was fourteen. The French no doubt still had boys climbing up the inside of chimneys and working down coal-mines at the time.
Finally, J.F.B. makes the point that many ‘Donaghues (Steve), Richardes (Gordon and Cliff) and Nevetts (Billy) languished in racing stables due to a lack of opportunities as owners were always reluctant to put-up untried apprentices. J.F.B. made the point that in France at the time a ‘premium is awarded to the trainer who turns out the greatest number of winning rides in apprentice races’. This might have been the solution to the furore a few years ago when trainers in Britain were forced to share the riding fee with their apprentices when they rode for trainers other than themselves. A similar initiative would certainly give apprentices greater opportunities as well as levelling the playing-field to a degree for the trainer who cannot compete on numbers with the big yards but might accrue extra revenue targeting apprentice races. Go back in time to go forward, perhaps.

​I am currently reading John Fairfax-Blakeborough’s ‘Paddock Personalities’, subtitled ‘Being Thirty-Years of Turf Memories’, published around the early 1930’s. There is definitive date of publication.
If you browse the catalogue of booksellers ‘Ways of Newmarket’ you will quickly discover that Fairfax-Blakeborough was a prolific writer of racing books, many of which you will have to stump-up £400 or more to own. Way out of my comfort zone, I can tell you. I don’t believe I have paid more than £35 for a book, though I do lust over many of the rarer books in Ways catalogue. Oh, to be a millionaire and not a pensioner of little means!
I have thus far only got as far as page 34 and already there are gems that must be forwarded to anyone who may stumble upon this website.
Firstly, though, and here I am backing an outsider at longer odds than a John Meacock runner in a Royal Ascot Group 1 back in the seventies and eighties, I am in search of information on Paddy Cowley, the champion National Hunt jockey back in 1908 (or was it 2006?). A relative of his is trying to research his life and is in need of a photograph of him, either a portrait or when riding, or mention of him in a racing book or article. I have exhausted my use on the subject, please get in touch and I’ll pass on any useful information. Cowley died at Hooton Park races in 1911. It’s a long lone time ago.
Back to Fairfax-Blakeborough. The first ‘gem’ was considered an ‘old story’ by the author and perhaps has taken on the aura of an urban legend. It concerned John Osborne when he was a jockey. He later became a successful trainer. He was accused by an owner of not riding to orders. Osborne was known for being courteous and respectful to people and not wanting to seem argumentative, his reply was thus. ‘You’re quite right, and I must apologise for not carrying out all your instructions, but the fact of the matter was that you gave me so many orders the race was not long enough to get them all in.’ I am sure modern-day jockeys can still relate to Osborne’s urbane wit.
Even today, we read letters in the Racing Post and, indeed in articles by their own journalists, on failings committed by racecourses. Owners complaining about the food or service in the owners bar. Trainers complaining about the conditions of the racecourse stables, etc. Yet at the turn of the century till, I believe, around the time of the outbreak of the 1st World War, racecourses did not provide free stabling, or accommodation or food for grooms, no free luncheons or tea for owners and trainers. Trainers would have to find suitable stabling close to the racecourse, in the stables of pubs or hotels.
Horses would be travelled to the races by train, with long walks for horse and lad from the nearest station to the racecourse, in all weathers. Jockeys and trainers would have to catch a train to and from the racecourse, with early starts and late finishes, as of today. The railway stations close to Sandown and Newbury, for instance, are not there by chance. The owners of racecourses lobbied the train companies to build them on the promise of healthy profits on race-days.
Fairfax-Blakeborough surprised me when he wrote that as early as the 1930’s owners and trainers were using aeroplanes to get to race-meetings as I considered this a more modern development. Since 1900, the world has changed at a pace unequalled at any other time in history. In 1900 it would have been impossible for a trainer in Newmarket to watch his horses on the Heath in the morning and be at a racecourse in the north of England in the afternoon, yet train and car turned that on its head. In fact, I would suppose, with less traffic on the roads in the 1930’s, the journey from Newmarket to Thirsk could be accomplished quicker back then than with the faster cars of today.
Fairfax-Blakeborough, balances the then and now of travel by citing the achievement of a Middleham-based jockey, Tommy Lye, who in 1834 rode two winners on an afternoon at Edinburgh, caught the Carlisle coach (carriage and 4-horses, I would say) ‘and by means of it and post-horses reached Northallerton in time to ride two more winners the following afternoon.’ It was not unheard-of for jockeys of that period to hack great distances with their saddles tied to their backs to get from home to a race-meeting and back. Modern jockeys have it so easy, don’t they? 
One comment the author does make, which ties in nicely with my assertion that we need in our time to associate race-meetings with local fairs and holidays to reinvigorate the racecourse experience, is that between 1900 and the early 1930’ he had noticed a ‘different spirit amongst the racing crowds’. Less leisurely, less friendly, less interested in the sport and horses and more concerned with the commercial side, by which, I believe, he means betting. ‘The whole atmosphere of the paddock and basic motives seem to have altered.’
I look forward to delving deeper into the history of horse racing during the years of the author’s reminiscences and will doubtless pilfer his knowledge and insight for future pieces for this website. Out of copyright, thankfully, though keeping the name of John Fairfax-Blakeborough alive, not that he’ll ever become a forgotten man of racing literature.