​I am no fan of racing fiction based on skullduggery as it gives the reader, most of whom have no real interest in horse racing, the idea that the sport is inherently corrupt, which it is not. For those looking for racing fiction that celebrates rather than denigrates the sport, I do have on offer a collection of horse racing short stories, ‘Going To The Last’, all written a long-time ago and which you can purchase, if you glance to your right and up a bit, for a favourable price. I am not recommending you buy a copy and I am certainly not going to regale you with a sales pitch that might suggest your life will greatly improved by simply having the title on your bookshelf. All I am pointing out is that it is available. And in buying a copy you will have a rare book to add to all your populist titles. I will add that I am old; I could yet become homeless and destitute. The writers of the books you already have in your library are rich, while I am not. Is that fair? They are almost to a man or woman talented. Is that fair?
Chris Cook – he is talented - this week in his mid-week column in the Racing Post made much of Cartmel marketing the 50th anniversary, or was it the 40th? It is hard to believe it would be 50-years ago. Surely not? – Good God, I have just looked it up and it is the 50th anniversary, August 26th, 1974!
Anyway, horse racing writer of the year, Chris Cook was metaphorically shaking his finger at the good people of Cartmel for promoting their fixture on August 26th as a celebration of the Gay Future coup 50-years to the day. I began to read his piece slightly shaking my head at Chris Cook, not because I have a liking for successful skullduggery but because I have a soft spot for Cartmel, the most beautiful setting for a race meeting in the whole of the Union. If not the world. Knocks Happy Valley, Melbourne, Sha Tin, Longchamp and Saratoga into a cocked hat, whatever a cocked hat might be.
Yet, Chris Cook was right in his condemnation of successful and unsuccessful betting coups. They are a stain on the reputation of the sport and should not be celebrated as a win for the little man over corporate business. It is a fraudulent activity and wastes a lot of time for a lot of people. I did send an e-mail to the Racing Post reminding them the Cartmel coup should be given as the only example of fraud in the history of the sport and though that particular coup went astray, Barney Curley should not be lionised for the successful coups he masterminded. Fraud is fraud, even if the only misdemeanour carried out by Curley was taking the only phone-box at Bellewstown racecourse hostage to prevent bookmakers cutting their substantial losses if, as he did, Yellow Sam won the amateur riders’ race. In Curley’s case, at least in this instance, it was an honest gamble conducted in rather an ungentlemanly manner. Curley had no liking for bookmakers and choose to publicise his view of them in the only way that would hurt them most, through their pockets.
If anyone wants to know the a-to-z of the Bellowstown coup, there is no better way than through Nick Townsend’s book ‘The Sure Thing’, as good a book as you will ever read.
That is the thing about coups and gambles, they make fascinating stories, whether they succeed or fail. The Gay Future coup failed and yet I would suggest it is the most famous coup of them all. In my possession I have at least four books that deal exclusively with the people who set out to make a fortune by bending the rules a tiny bit. The aforementioned Nick Townsend book; ‘Great Racing Gambles & Frauds’ by Richard Onslow, though he only acted as editor and wrote the introduction, some of the contributors being Reg Green, George Ennor, John Tyrrel and Geoffrey Hamlyn. ‘Ringers and Rascals’ by one of my all-time favourite writers, David Ashforth, Paul Mathieu’s wonderful book ‘The Druid’s Lodge Confederacy’, perhaps the greatest example of clever fraudulence in the whole history of British racing.
There will be a gamble on a particular horse today, and when I say today, I do not suggest on this day the 7th of July 2024 a coup will be landed, but any today when someone happen to stumble across this ‘blog’. An owner will be told by his or her trainer that their horse has come on a bundle for its first race and they will back it accordingly, perhaps getting 20/1 and driving the price down to 8/1, with punters then witnessing the tumbling odds and availing themselves of the lesser prices before the horse goes off the 5/2 favourite. ‘Gamble landed,’ the headline will read. But not one that will stay long in the memory. Gambles are good for the sport, at least the honest ones.
I would like to believe the sport is so tightly observed these days by stewards, by bookmakers and the integrity units of the B.H.A. that skullduggery is a thing of the past - especially as Barney Curley is now long gone.

​In today’s Racing Post, David Jennings wrote a piece on the success of Dundalk racecourse, Ireland’s only all-weather track. At least for the moment as Tipperary has promised to go in the same direction and in time, I think they will. Not that David Jennings needed to have travelled to Dundalk, as good a journalist as he is, and I am a big fan of his writing style, as Lisa O’Connor, marketing manager at Dundalk these past five-years, might have conducted her own interview as she extolled the virtues and pleasures to be gained from attending a Dundalk race-meeting. Successful marketing is about believing in your product and boy does Lisa O’Connor believe in her product.
And that is the thing about persuading people who have never attended a race-meeting to give the sport a chance, it is all about belief in the product. Goodwood, it seems, is chasing its tail when it comes to selling tickets for its Glorious meeting, which does not bode well for Goodwood in general, I would have thought. Goodwood, is, by common consent, a glorious racecourse, as long as the infamous mist and sea-fret do not pay a visit.
I would suggest if Goodwood want sell-out crowds for their premier fixture, the work to sell the meeting needs to start at their very first meeting of the season. Have a free draw at every meeting to win two tickets for the Glorious meeting. Extoll the virtues and pleasures of attending Goodwood’s big meeting, as Lisa O’Connor sings the praises of Dundalk. Give away free tickets in the local paper for the minor Goodwood meetings, lay on a free coach service for people of the local area who would like to sample a day at the races for the first time.
Dundalk have no restrictions on where people can go once they have paid their £15 or should that be euros entrance fee. No bowler hatted official  asking to see your badge, preventing you from transferring from one enclosure to another just for the opportunity of a better or different view. The problem with some British racecourses is that they hold on to the snootiness of the outmoded class system. It is just about still acceptable at Royal Ascot, though the required mode of dress for men borders on both inequality, reverse sexism and, in hot weather, downright cruelty. Dundalk is the way forward, not dress codes and adherence to the ‘old ways’ of different enclosures for different classes of racegoer.
If you want better patronage, racecourses cannot do enough to make people welcome; you have to give to receive as a reward. I believe every racecourse should be made to have an ‘open day’ of free entry. It does not need to be first class racing, though it must provide a first-class welcome. Good food, guides to explain the various elements that comprise a day at the races, stalls selling local products, the work of the various equine charities exampled, with a retired racehorse or two for people to pet, meet and greets with trainer and jockeys, entertainment for kids and perhaps some form of after racing entertainment. I would not, though, go as far as clowns as clowns are too scary, though not perhaps for the hardy young.
Further, I would suggest every marketing manager of a British racecourse should visit Dundalk and try to learn from one of the best.
Horse racing is viewed by the public as an elitist sport. I have argued time and again that horse racing is very much a working-class sport. No one works harder than those who work in racing stables, no matter what their differing backgrounds. Jockeys, too, work long hours, with only the select few lucky enough to live in big houses and drive ‘flash’ cars. Trainers also work from dawn to dusk, even if many of them do live in big houses, if above their station and salary in life. Those outside of our sport do not know this. They see Royal Ascot and think it the pinnacle of an elitist sport and not for the likes of them.
The benefit of under eighteens getting in for free is voided if it costs the parents fifty-quid to get in, added to which another fifty-quid must be spent on petrol/diesel/charging to get to the racecourse and another fifty-quid spend money on eating, drinking and perhaps having a small bet.
If you build it, they will come. Yet the crowds will never again be as great as they were before television, before there was so many other sports and entertainments for the public to choose from. A day at the races is to attend an outdoor event; it is a countryside pursuit, even when urban sprawl means the town or city now threateningly surrounds the racecourse. Do not coop people up in enclosures. Allow them the freedom to roam, which will set racing apart from all other non-equine pursuits. Horse racing should resemble the Badminton horse trials, not Centre Court at Wimbledon.

​Thank goodness for climate warming. How cold and miserable would the weather be in this country if the sea was not boiling and the entire planet was not getting warmer by the day? It is a serious question as some climate scientists are predicting the opposite, that we are entering another ice age. I know where my money will going, given a new ice age is the outsider of two by a considerable betting distance at the moment. On Friday evening, July 5th, let us remember, I could have easily justified lighting a fire it was so chilly in the tourist hot spot of North Devon.
The other major debate, of course, now the General Election is behind us at last, is whether City of Troy is a superstar, a horse whose name will warrant mention in the decades to come in the same sentence as Frankel and Brigadier Gerard, the two best flat horses of my lifetime.
As of now, the sensible answer is no, City of Troy is not going to retire as a legend of the sport. What is more time is against him achieving immortality, given, unlike the immortal Frankel and the slowly being forgotten as recency tops historical fact, these days, Brigadier Gerard, City of Troy is unlikely, as he is just too important for Coolmore and the breed, to stay in training as a 4-year-old, with the Breeders’ Cup pencilled in for his final race.
To my mind, winning the Juddmonte at York and the Breeders Cup, on top of his Epsom Derby and Eclipse victories, will fail to elevate him beyond that of the best 3-year-old of his generation, for all he is, to use a Nicky Henderson phrase, ‘a nice person’. A proper dude.
What must be said, as again, recency wins most topics of debates, these days, both Frankel and Brigadier Gerard had to win ugly on occasion, as did City of Troy at Sandown yesterday, though usually on ground far worse than the O’Brien mega-star had to cope with in scrambling home in workmanlike fashion in the Eclipse.
It would be good to be honest, here. City of Troy is the most hyped horse to come out of Ballydoyle since Auguste Rodin. This high-stakes marketing strategy began, I would suggest, with Australia, the first of Aidan’s ‘best I have ever trained’, although on that occasion the great man had to backtrack and place Istabraq above all others. Auguste Rodin, if you recall, was tagged ‘a collector’s item’ and after many false starts is, at last, beginning to live up to the reputation Aidan saddled him with. Talk about selling your onions for top price even before they have poked their bonny heads above ground!
Although Aidan is a genius when it comes to training, his excuses for both defeat and narrow victories are pretty lame. When City of Troy won the Dewhurst on soft ground, Aidan was of the opinion that any distance and any ground would suit City of Troy. Yesterday he struggled to beat an ordinary Group 1 field, receiving 10Ib it must be remembered from the 6-year-old Al Riffa, as he did not handle the turn into the straight - indeed he took a false step – and he hated the ground, ground that was soft, as it was at Newmarket when he won the Dewhurst.
York, of course, might suit him better, though if he can’t handle bends, the Bleeders’ Cup is not going to help Coolmore’s ambition to retire him a super star on a par with Frankel. To my eyes, given his best 2-furlongs at Epsom were the final 2-furlongs, City of Troy needs 12-furlongs to be seen at his best, and doubtless good ground will aid his progression up the ranks. The sport needs a great horse at this time of struggle, sadly it is not going to be City of Troy, no matter how much hype is attached to his name by the trainer and the racing media.

One other moan about trainers. Dermot Weld has just retired his Oaks winner – name I cannot recall – due to a minor injury. Dermot Weld is a great trainer and this is not meant as criticism of him personally but of trainers in general. Too often the racing public are informed that a horse has suffered a ‘slight knock’, a ‘small injury’ and so on. Why can we not be told how the vet is describing the injury? Is a slight tendon strain a minor injury? A suspensory strain, is that marked down as a slight injury? We, the racing enthusiasts, deserve to be told the exact nature of an injury. Saying a ‘slight knock’ can sound as if something is being covered-up and that is not a good look for a sport that should be priding itself on transparency and openness. As the wonderful Sir Mark Prescott once said: my horses are trying 90% of the time to injure themselves, while my staff are 95% of the time aiding and abetting them. Racehorses injure themselves; it is part and parcel of the job. Unlike Sir Mark’s tongue-in-cheek anecdote, the reality is accidents happen. Just say it as it is. Do not say ‘a slight knock,’ ‘a minor injury’.

​The author of ‘Jumping into Jeopardy, Chris Haslam, is a good writer who likes to write. Whereas I am, in all modesty, a poor writer who battles a lazy streak to write. Other than quality, the difference that divides us is that I go for brevity, whilst Mr. Haslam is possessed by an alternate writing brief.
Aside for my biases, this is a good and worthy book. Yes, the opening chapters were, for someone whose life has been steeped in fascination of the sport and its history, a telling of the bleeding obvious, yet once the author got into the meat of his book it became a read worth the purchase price.
Let me illuminate without taking away any of the pleasures of the book if you should wish to buy a copy. In case I forget, you can purchase the book on-line from Borzoi Bookshop in Stow-on-the-Wold. It is, I believe, self-published, the reason it is being overly wordy, a book, like so many self-published efforts, no doubt including my shots across the bow of authorship, in need of an editor and proof-reader. On the final point, this book has very few blemishes on the proof-reading front, which, for a self-published book is highly commendable.
The above paragraph is an example of the journey you can expect on turning the first page of ‘Jumping Into Jeopardy’ – you are never quite sure where the author intends to take you, and for that, I thank him. A non-formulaic book is a joy to read, adding the mystery of a walk in countryside new to the eye. 
So, what is this book all about. It is a wonderful introduction to the world of the National Hunt jockey and to racing in general. There is a chapter on becoming a jockey, the weighing room, injuries, the Injured Jockeys Fund – incidentally 25% of the proceeds of the book will be going to the Racing Welfare Charity – female jockeys, trainers, mental health x 2, deaths, the Emerald Isle, and a lot more besides.
There is also an extensive biography of jockey turned trainer Sam Thomas, a chapter devoted to Tom Scudamore and a chapter titled ‘The Jockey Who Thinks Out Of The Box’, that jockey being the vegan jockey David Bass. There are also quotes and passages from well-known writers on the subject.
As I said, if you have lived your life within the horse racing community or have followed it as a dedicated spectator, much of this book will come across as last week’s news. If you know someone interested in the sport but has no great depth of knowledge on the ins and outs of horse racing, this is most definitely the present to buy. This, to the outsider wishing to look in, is a book of enlightenment.
As someone who would like to campaign to have long books banned, believing no book should be weighty enough to kill someone if it fell off a shelf and landed on someone’s head at 340 words + it is too long, with the last chapter of all the chapters in need of an editor’s pen. Instead of a summary of what went before, the final chapter of this book reads as if the author was too much in love with his subject to let go, to say to himself ‘there, I have written my fill’, to pen that most beautiful of literary phrases – The End.

​When a horse has won over the distance in a fast time, albeit in lesser company, and is then only placed in two Derbies, the whys and wherefores of defeat become a topic of debate. After the Irish Derby on Sunday, David Jennings went out on a wing and gave Racing Post readers the opinion that Ambiente Friendly ‘clearly did not stay.’ The owners, the Gredley family, agree with Jennings, even though they were dogmatic between Epsom and the Curragh, that their horse was a 12-furlong horse, with the Arc at Longchamp as the long-term aim.
Now, let me be clear, David Jennings would be my favourite Racing Post writer if it were not for Patrick Mullins. Mullins is a stealth writer, only contributing to the Racing Post when commissioned by Tom Kerr, the Post’s head man, when he submits memorable articles that live, as the use of memorable suggests, in the mind for weeks and months, sometimes demanding cutting out of the paper so as never to be forgotten. I even read Dave Jennings when he is writing on Irish football and hurling, even when he is playing the part of tipster. Not that I have ever put actual money down on one of his choices. I may be cabbage-looking but not so foolish to bet my money on the advice of someone who is fourth, fifth or sixth pick when his employer is in need of a tipster. He has tipped winners, apparently, but not to the point where he is paraded on the front page as having tipped a long-price winner the previous day.
David Jennings is, though, first choice in the front line when it comes to being a columnist. Admire him enormously as a racing writer, especially when he is writing about National Hunt, his first love, I believe, with words about the flat season a convenient way to help pay the mortgage.
So, as with everyone, though mostly Racing Post journalists, he has a right to his opinion. I would not be penning this nonsense if he had said the truth of the matter, that Ambiente Friendly was simply not good enough, that there were two horses better than him in yesterday’s Irish Derby, as there was one horse too good for him at Epsom. As David Elsworth once rebuked the media after Barnbrook Again had finished second in the King George at Kempton. “If he didn’t stay, he stayed better than the horses he beat.”
This protection of the reputation of a horse needs to be debated. A horse gets beaten a nose and the quote afterwards is nearly always ‘didn’t quite stay.’ Not, as is the truth of the matter, on the day there was a horse just a little bit better. On another day, over the same distance on the same racecourse, the result might be reversed. 
If Ambiente Friendly were to run next in a lesser race over 12-furlongs, would anyone bet on another runner due to the perception of David Jennings that ‘the horse clearly did not stay at both Epsom and the Curragh, though, of course, no one after Epsom offered the perception that the horse was not so much beaten by a superstar but by the distance.
If you argue that at the top level Ambiente Friendly does not get the 12-furlongs then I would offer no debate on the matter, though I would suggest it might be the same over 10-furlongs, that the truth is the horse is a gallant trier but he will always fail at the top-level due to being that little bit below that class.
When it comes to distance, horses are too pigeon-holed these days. In Australia, flat horses will be campaigned over different distances during the season. It also used to be the case with National Hunt horses, especially in Ireland. Flyingbolt went from the Champion 2-mile Chase and the Champion Hurdle to the Irish Grand National under top weight. Ambiente Friendly, in the right races, would no doubt win over any distance from 8-furlongs to 14-furlongs and only time will tell what his optimum distance will be and that, no doubt, if the Gredley family keep him in training, will only be discovered as a four or five-year-old. For now, all I will say is Ambiente Friendly definitely stays 12-furlongs, though he might prove better at 10, though I doubt it, and that he most likely prove to be just short of being a Group 1 horse.

​It is good for the soul, at least, my soul, to discover the ideas I have put forward for the betterment of the sport are slowly gaining traction. Today at Wolverhampton, for instance, though there have been other race-meetings in the same vein, every race is a rider restricted race, for jockeys who have not ridden more than 30-winners during the previous 12-months. I have banged-on about this subject for decades, believing the sport has a moral duty to give all its participants an opportunity to earn a half-decent living, and by allowing jockeys to earn a living wage, the sport is taking forward steps to protect its integrity. An underpaid jockey, with dependents to support, is more easily corrupted than a jockey who can afford to pay the bills and has enough money to support a happy family life. So, that is a pat on the back for me.
I also believe there should be an aspiration for every meeting to have at least one race worth 5-figures to the winner. Having a race worth £10,000 on every card will not in itself provide the answer to owners leaving the sport and our higher-rated horses being sold to race overseas but it would be a step in the right direction, a signal that the sport is trying. I cannot think that racecourses having to stump-up a further £6,000 per card will break the bank. From little acorns great oaks do grow, so it is said.
Of course, the B.H.A. should have greater aspiration than one race per meeting worth £10,000. No race should be run for less than ten-grand to the winner would be a worthier aspiration. But, well, I refer you back to the little acorns. The B.H.A. is of the opinion that it is possible to grow the sport from the top down. Houses are constructed from the foundations up – I rest my case. If the sport declines to the fate of hare-coursing or even greyhound racing, its re-emergence, if that was to happen, would begin, as it was at the very birth of the sport, with country meetings, local sportsman getting together to breath life back into a sport that was once a lynch-pin of British sporting tradition. Read Chris Pitt’s wonderful book ‘A Long Time Gone’ if you want to study the foundations of horse racing, when the sport was a country pursuit and not a billion-pound world-wide industry. I believe Cartmel and Musselburgh will prove the saving fathers of our sport, not Ascot, Goodwood or Sandown.
To return the ‘good old days’ to horse racing the modern requirements of the sporting public should be mixed with what went on when racecourses were crowded and there was no need to ‘sell’ the major races to the media or the public. The B.H.A. want to play too safe, an impossibility when regulating an activity that is by its very nature dangerous. Protecting the welfare of the horse is of vital importance and the sport should be connected from head to toe with equine charities. Horse racing should be the over-arching protector of all horses in this country, with race-meetings staged on a regular basis to raise funds to support the people and charities that provide the necessary safety-nets.
I remain committed to my ‘health and safety’ unfriendly idea to have a 40-runner Lincoln Handicap started from a barrier, a glimpse into how the every day of horse racing was like pre-starting stalls, a concept, by the way, the Jockey Club, the sport’s rulers and regulators prior to the inception of the B.H.B., now the B.H.A., were totally opposed to.
Of course, as we all know, fewer race-meetings, with less races, would go a long way to improving competitiveness in the sport, though I must warn that at present, with only five or six in a race, the owners we still have are earning more prize-money than if we were to have double the number of horses per race. It is an issue that is not a completely black and white picture. Not by a long chalk.
What British sport requires to help it, if that is at all possible, out of the doldrums, is knowledgeable leadership and a regulatory body with teeth that is prepared to bite. We are too bloody polite in racing. The B.H.A. are crap and Julia Harrington has made not one jot of difference. The sport was going down down when she arrived and it remains going down down on her departure. That is not success, with ‘Premier Races’ the biggest red herring since Jesus walked on water, turned water into wine and did that amazing trick when he fed the masses with loathes and fishes. If only he were around today. As things look today, a miracle is the basic requirement for a doable strategy to survival.

​Like it or loath it – I like it – the Shergar Cup is one of Ascot’s most popular race-meeting. It is a good, family day out and I am surprised it has not spawned similar events. Ascot know they have a winner and know how to sprinkle it with ever more gold dust. Add more girls. A tactic used for centuries to attract greater attention to any exhibition or social occasion.
The female team are repeat winners of this jockey challenge and this year there are to be two teams of female riders. Hayley Turner, of course, how could she not be involved, leads a European team comprising herself, Saffie Osborne and Marie Velon. Rachel King, the Britis apprentice who sought and achieved fame and fortune, and quite recently a husband, in Australia, will lead a world female three. The other two teams will be similar teams of male riders.
Equalising the male/female participation is a good move, though I question why there are to be no British or Irish based jockeys’ teams. In fact, the event is so successful I find hard to understand why Ascot has not gone full-bore and upped the teams to five or possibly six. Logistically this might prove tricky to pull-off, yet for the class of horse entered, the prize-money is so good I cannot see why attracting 15-18 runners per race would prove impossible to achieve.
I would like to see, or at least aspired to, three-teams of female jockeys and three of male. I would have gone for a British female team, Turner, Osborne, Doyle, obviously, a World female team, and a third team comprising an apprentice, another female professional, say Jo Mason and an Irish rider.
With the male teams comprising a similar mix. I suggest an apprentice as the Shergar Cup should be seen as front window for riding talent on the rise and not just a jolly for professionals already riding a crest of a wave.
Given the success of Carlisle’s all-female rider night and that Ascot achieve one of there best attendance for the Shergar Cup, I fail to understand why another British racecourse has not jumped on the bandwagon and thought-up a similar jockey challenge. The period between the Epsom Derby and Royal Ascot would be a suitable slot in the calendar for someone to try a Britain versus Irish clash, 4-teams of 4, with an English-born team, Irish jockeys based in England, a Irish-based team, and a female team, half Irish, half British. Perhaps such a meeting could be used to raise funds for equine charities?
On the last point. I wish British racing either held regular meetings throughout the year in aid of equine charities – yes I know there are a few about – or at least had charity boxes as a permanent fixture around the racecourse. The sport should align itself to charities that catch the fallen and the neglected horse, with perhaps every racecourse associated with one or more of these charities. The sport is too easily panned by our opposition when things go wrong, when the carcass of a horse is transported on an open-to-the-world’s eyes trailer hitched to a horsebox displaying a licenced trainers’ name, for instance.
Can we not be seen by the outside world as doing all we can to help support those whose kindness helps out equine friends live dignified lives outside of racing, as well as being a safety-net for all horses, whether they are thoroughbred or not. The sport could so easily help itself if only someone of influence could just think outside of the box for a moment.
Horsey people helping less fortunate horses, how could that not be a winner in the public acceptance stakes!

​Ambiente Friendly may gain consolation for his heroic run in the Epsom Derby, when for a brief moment as Rab Havlin took a pull so he would not hit the front too soon, only to see City of Troy getting a dream run up the rail, he looked all-over the winner in waiting. If he does not win at the Curragh, it is as certain as night follows day that Aidan O’Brien will triumph yet again.
If it were not for Coolmore and the Ballydoyle stables of Aidan O’Brien where would the Irish Derby be, except in even greater trouble. Derbies of all distinction should not be run with as few as six or seven-runners, which is likely on Sunday. Also, national Derbies should be live on terrestrial television as befitting their status as Derbies. There are Derbies and then are races that carry the name Derby in their title. A Derby that is a handicap is not a true and bone fide Derby. Once upon a time there were Scottish and Welsh Derbies and regional Derbies, as there are regional ‘Nationals.’ They are peripheral and some might say pseudo-Derbies and play no significant part in racing’s narrative. The Irish Derby should be a central pivot of the Irish racing story as was the case when it was known as the Irish Sweeps Derby.
Epsom Derby winners went to the Curragh. The Eclipse at Sandown was hardly ever considered as the natural next destination for a Derby winner. Times have not changed; breeding has changed. Breeders, and I make no apology for the criticism, are ruining flat racing with its insatiable desire for speed, speed and more speed. Very soon there will be a call for four-furlong races as so many sprinters are not able to stay five-furlongs. As there are calls for the Irish Derby to follow the example of France and reduce its Derby to ten-furlongs due to the lack of stamina in the national herd. Thank the sweet Lord that Coolmore remains true to old-fashioned standards, though even they are increasingly looking to get more speed into their mares and stallions.
On this topic I am two-faced as I have long advocated that the Doncaster St.Leger should lose its classic status and be replaced by the Eclipse being restricted to 3-year-olds, allowing for the English classic season to be done and dusted by mid-summer. I am not expecting my revolutionary idea to come to pass, and if it did it would further diminish the appeal of the Irish Derby, which I would dread to witness.
The problem is that the main owners, nearly all of whom are of foreign descent, race to make stallions as that is where the money is to be made and the more breeders that favour speed over stamina, the less appeal any Group 1 over further than 10-furlongs will have for them. Bizarrely for a country renowned for their sprinters, Australia is becoming home to far more of our 12-furlong + plus horses than is healthy for our summer race calendar, with the 2-mile Melbourne Cup still its dominant race.
And that is the rub. Because the English and Irish race programme has grown from seeds planted 200-years ago when stamina in horses was of necessity, the majority of our top flat races are run over distances further than 10-furlongs. Yet breeders insist on over-producing sprinters, which is further diminishing the pool of stock to be sold as potential National Hunt horses. It is a problem that needs to be addressed, as is proved by the paucity of horses that now take part in the highlight of Ireland’s flat season. Six of the eleven entered for the Irish Derby this week-end are trained by Aidan O’Brien. That is not healthy.
The criteria for a race like a Derby, be it at Epsom or the Curragh, is that it should be possible for there to be a sweepstake on the race. When this is not possible, the alarm bells should ring and they should ring loud and long, for as long as no one is prepared to do something about the situation. I have few solutions, I admit. The best of which is to include within the prize-money a six or seven-figure bonus if the winner or placed horses at Epsom go on to win the Irish Derby.
The Irish Derby must be a hard sell to both possible sponsors and the public. Something other than altering the distance should be done and done quickly as except for Coolmore, the race is becoming an irrelevance on the world’s racing stage and in a land where the breeding of thoroughbreds is of world renown, that is wholly unforgivable. 

​Not even someone with as saturnine a soul as myself could be critical of the 5-days of Royal Ascot. I will also contend that prize-money is perfectly satisfactory and that to concede to the argument that more money is needed to be applied to the Group 1 races in order to achieve greater foreign representation is to concede that the honour and privilege of winning at Royal Ascot is less worthy than the prize for winning. Instead of ballooning prize money, perhaps Ascot should contribute to the shipping of horses from foreign parts to Berkshire.
It may add to the occasion to have horses trained in the U.S., Europe and far distant countries competing against the best from Britain and Ireland but they add little to the actual excitement of what fascinates us between the white rails. It may matter to the exclusive few which horse tops the International rankings at the end of the year but the thinking of nameless faces and the attributing of trite numbers to the names of horses have little bearing on racegoers and the rest of humanity. Nor should the Breeders Cup be the accepted destination for every Royal Ascot Group 1 winner. Royal Ascot is Royal Ascot. It should be the destination. After all, it has heritage and history and prestige, recommendations that the billionaires’ paradise that is the upstart Breeders Cup does not and can never have.
I speak as someone whose affection for flat racing has in recent years cooled to lukewarm, yet Royal Ascot, to me, is a proper race-meeting, with races to suit every type of horse, except those who favour soft ground, from 2-year-old sprints, 3-year-old sprints, to the toughest to win handicaps, to the longest race in the entire calendar. I enjoy the handicaps the most, doubtless because I am drawn to cheering-on the little man, the jockey rarely in the spotlight, the working-man’s syndicates, the trainer with only a couple of dozen horses in training. The underdog has an opportunity in the Royal Hunt Cup or the Wokingham, even if rarely does the trophy not go to one of the leading lights. But the chance is there and that is what I like.
Reflecting on the final day. The highlight was Callum Shepherd getting some kind of redemption on Isle of Jura, the winning of the Group 2 Hardwicke Stakes payback for holding his tongue after the despicable actions of the Gredley family in jocking him off Ambiente Friendly in favour of the popular yet same division of jockey as himself Rab Havlin. As I said at the time, I suspect Frankie Dettori was involved somewhere within the decision-making.
Callum Shepherd proves, as did Tom Eaves earlier in the week, that the reality is that most of the jockeys riding possess the ability, though not the opportunity, to win major races when given the right horse to ride. Yes, Buick, Murphy, Moore, Doyle and Marquand, get the job done on a regular basis but because of their track record they have the connections and the confidence to know if it goes wrong today, tomorrow they will get other chances. If Shephard and Eaves had messed up at Royal Ascot, they would know there would be a good chance they would not get a second opportunity. Now, I hope, Callum Shepherd goes on to win the Group 1 King George & Queen Elizabeth back at Ascot at the end of July.
Anyone thinking of backing ante-post either Fairy Godmother or Bedtime Story for the 1,000 Guineas next season should bear in mind what Aidan O,Brien said in the aftermath of this year’s Guineas races. He no longer hard trains his classic horses early on as he is mindful that it is a long season and those same horses were needed to be fresh for the big races in the Autumn. City of Troy is a superstar in June but back in April he was undercooked and underprepared to make even a bold show in the 2,000 Guineas. Opera Singer is only now beginning to look like the filly everyone thought her to be at the end of last season. Even with the sires now being used by Coolmore having a greater influence on speed than in the chronicled days of Sadlers Wells and Galileo, Aidan is not minded to train a horse with only the Guineas as its main target. Aidan is unusual for the modern trainer as he is prepared to use races to bring a horse to full fitness, as his comment ‘oh, the race will bring him on, no doubt’, testifies. 
For me, it is downhill from here on in. From June onwards my thoughts drift to the Cambridgeshire, Cesarewitch and the start of the jumps season.

​A thought came to me on day 3: if the Cheltenham Festival were to be staged in mid-November, field sizes and competitiveness would be the equal of Royal Ascot as there would be a larger pool of horses still available. Come March, many of the lesser number of class horse are always going to be sidelined due to injury sustained throughout the season. I am not suggesting the Cheltenham Festival be moved to the start of the campaign, it is just a good reason why people should stop making comparisons between the top two meetings of the year.
In Willie Mullins and Aidan O’Brien, horse racing has two of the greatest trainers, numerically and as harvesters of the major prizes, in the sport’s history. No question. No debate. The difference between the two, I suggest, is that Mullins and his team have to search for the superstars of Closutton, whereas O’Brien has no need to traipse around the sales for the Coolmore superstars as the majority are home-bred, with a select few bought by ‘the lads’ themselves.
I reckon, perhaps unfairly, that Ryan Moore wanted to win the Gold Cup far more than Kyprios did. Great horserace, two great jockeys fighting out the finish. Trawlerman was brave in defeat, Kyprious won while whistling through his teeth and looking forward to supper.
It would not have happened in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the tardy time-keeping of the royal procession. Early one-day, so late the next day that we feared something diabolical had occurred. And on the first day, the King chatted through the national anthem. Will not do, sir. Must do better.
There is an accident waiting to happen, mark my words. Owners leading in their winners, that is my reference. Kyprios was unhappy with the swelling crowd inside the winners’ enclosure and it was only by the grace of God he did not trample on the woman in the pink dress(?).  The B.H.A. must look into the matter otherwise bad publicity is coming our way.
What I admire about Ryan Moore, and the same with Frankie Dettori, is he always tries to win without resorting to the whip. Kyprios needed a reminder to concentrate, his other winners, including Fairy Godmother, were hands and heels effort.
Although the connoisseurs will always look to the Group races for their greater enjoyment, I have a preference for the handicaps, the Royal Hunt Cup, the Ascot Handicap and the Wokingham, along with the Queen Alexandria, being my favourite races of the meeting.
Rachel King was a great addition to the jockey ranks this year, almost sneaking a surprise win in the Sandringham for the Gosdens, a team that have knocked on almost all the doors this week. Holly Doyle has also knocked on several doors to no avail, the photo-finish camera not being her friend so far. Hayley Turner also finished a runner-up. Hopefully Saffie Osborne can get one in for the girls today and also get Sir Michael Stoute on the winners’ list.
Without originality, I suspect, at the beginning of the season I predicted that Billy Loughnane would in a few years become champion jockey, not ruling him out of going close this season. After two Royal Ascot winners already this week, his season can only go in one direction and though it is highly unlikely he will catch and pass Oisin Murphy, he might yet prove his deadliest rival. He is the new Lester Piggott, thankfully a smiling version of the legendary one. At the time of my birth the tall fellow was the super kid on the block; as I dither towards the end of my life, Billy the Kid is the wonder boy. George Boughey has invested wisely in Loughnane; I doubt though he will be in a position to keep him for more than a few seasons.
I like Sheikh Mohammed Obaid. Even without being asked the question, he made the commitment to keep both his Group 1 winners in training next season. Just the boost British racing needed during these troubling times. Hopefully other owners will follow suit.
In my eyes, Royal Ascot is perfect, with no meddling required.