how to fund horse racing. (or the impossible dream)

​I have offered-up suggestions in the past on how British horse racing might better finance itself, many of which, no doubt, could fall under ‘the naïve in the extreme’ category. If not one ‘golden bullet’ exists, which it cannot as the B.H.A. is yet to apply it as the solution to the big dark hole created by the withdrawal of the rather immoral FOBT money, then I have always advocated the scatter gun approach of implementing any scheme or idea that brings in a funding stream.
But there is a golden bullet, isn’t there? And I was reminded of it when I recalled, for no apparent reason, a conversation I had on the matter many years ago with an anonymous racegoer at an evening meeting at Worcester. How we became engaged in conversation I cannot recall. I am not what anyone might think of as any kind of ‘bon viveur’. Far from it. As far as I remember he was drinking a pint of lager and reading my Racing Post, which I had carelessly put down beside me as I – well to be honest, I can’t remember. Just moon-gazing, no doubt. Or admiring the lovely ladies as they promenaded hither and thither.
He said, leaving aside words unfit to be heard in polite society, that the prize money was not very good, which initially put the idea into my head that he might be an owner. He wasn’t, though he had a friend who had ‘a leg’ in a syndicate, which somehow made him an authority on the sport and its ills. If I recall, he didn’t think that ‘Irish kid’ McCoy was all he was made out to be. I dare say only A.P. himself would have agreed with him.
I made some sort of comment on the lines of ‘why do you think other countries can put so much more prize money into the sport?’ And as quick as lightning he replied. ‘They have Tote monopolies, don’t they?’ Again, I have amputated his richly-endowed expletives so you will not think him a barbarian.
‘There you have your answer,’ I interrupted him. Which he replied with. ‘But you can’t have racing without bookies. They create atmosphere.’
And there lies, in plain sight, the problem.
Now I would suggest that if the B.H.A. and it stakeholders created its own Tote and Parliament outlawed anyone outside of this Tote from betting on horse racing, in very quick order the sport would be, possibly for the first time in its history, securely financed, with all the benefits which accrue when budgets are no longer tight.
In my golden vision, bookmakers would not be sent into oblivion but allowed to continue to take bets on all the other sports, which I believe is an increasing market for them. And if racing had control of betting on its own sport, it could impose limits on the amount any one punter could bet on any single race, lessening its association with addiction gambling. Although my golden vision would incur a loss of betting shops in our High Streets, ‘Monopoly Outlets’ would partially fill the void, allowing punters to continue to walk-in off the street to enjoy their hobby.
I don’t see any reason why the big bookmakers couldn’t enlarge their premises on the High Street to include gaming, arcades and snooker tables, etc, allowing them to be described as ‘Sporting and Sports Betting Outlets’. Separating horse racing from the ‘betting industry’ might alter how the public at large view horse racing and remove that shadowy element of the fraudulent coup.
Ignoring the obvious change of atmosphere at racecourses that such a radical change would bring, why is the idea of a Tote Monopoly in this country not on the table when the great and the good of the sport get together to discuss future funding? We envy the heightened levels of prize money offered by countries funded through Tote monopolies, countries without the history and reputation that Britain enjoys, and yet steadfastly refuse to even consider going down the same route. I realise that a Tote monopoly would make Matt Chapman redundant and there would be a significant area of concrete in front grandstands that will remind racegoers of the death of a long-standing tradition but I would rather see the bookmaker consigned to history than for horse racing to go into oblivion before them.
Oh, and that punter in the centre of Worcester racecourse. He didn’t agree with my view one little bit. He told me in words that were half expletives and half an insult to my intelligence that racing without bookies would be as enjoyable as a strip club without a stripper. He may have had a better analogy in his head but in the heat of the moment he thought best to keep it to himself, which then, as now, I remain indebted to him.
Oh, and he seemed to think his three-quarter finished plastic glass of lager was fair exchange for my Racing Post. He was wrong, though I kept that opinion to myself as it has always been my experience that half-inebriated men with hands the size of hams and a beard with so much volume a swarm of hornets could live in it without disturbance rarely take kindly to the protestations of people they regard as ‘know-it-alls’.