hurdle racing.

​Steeplechasing was born out of the hunting field, where any obstacle horse and rider came across was to be crossed in order to keep up with the chase. I will not consider the morals of fox-hunting, it is too long a debate, with too many recommendations for its continuance and one large argument for its termination. Yet the sport as we know it, with the exception of banks races in Ireland and cross-country races, displays no association with that famous day in 1752 when Mr.O’Callaghan and Edmund Burke struck a bet to see which of them could ride from the steeple at Buttevant to the spire of St.Leger church in the shortest time. We can only assume that either the day’s hunting must have been without exhilaration or one or both of the participants was in great need of extra revenue. For us, though, a sport was born that decade after decade has continued to enthral and excite us with its wild unpredictability and romance. 
I suspect only the Aintree Grand National, amongst all of the meetings held every year, displays any similarity with the early, unregulated, days of the sport. No plough anymore, of course, or stone walls, but it is likely that if Captain Becher were to visit on Grand National day, he would recognise both the race and the fence in which he unwittingly gave his name, if he didn’t recognise the grandstands. The first Grand National was run in 1839, yet surprisingly (it surprised me) the first hurdle race was run in 1821 on Durdham Downs in my home city of Bristol. It was run in three heats of 1-mile with 5-hurdles. It drew little enthusiasm from rider or spectator, apparently. 
In 1867 the Jockey Club endorsed this lack of enthusiasm for hurdle races by declaring ‘that in future hurdle races shall not be considered as coming within the established Rules of Racing’. It was only around the time of the 1st World War that hurdle racing gained a foothold and by the late 1920’s the Liverpool Hurdle had gained enough prestige that it was one of only five other races, outside of the Grand National, worth more than a £1,000 to the winner.
I must be related to the early pioneers of steeplechasing, none of whom had many good words to say about hurdle racing as I am not wholly enamoured by this division of the sport. Arthur Coventry thought hurdle racing’s only attribute was that it was a good medium for gambling.
When you see someone pay a large six-figure amount of money for the winner of a maiden Irish point-to-point and then ignore its natural propensity to jump a steeplechase fence by running it in hurdle races, it seems a retrograde action in my eyes. Yes, you can argue this policy has paid-off handsomely with Envoi Allen, Denman, too, in the past, and with plenty of others but how many have failed to make the grade, how many have fallen by the wayside by an inability to adjust to the discipline.
It is my contention that in their own unique way animals are as smart as we are. But they do not think as we think. You cannot take a young horse, schooled over only steeplechase fences, and explain to it that it must put that technique to the back of its mind, to stop jumping off its hocks, and flick its way over the insubstantial gorse-filled sheep hurdles that it will now face. When in the heat of battle, with noise and action all around, with the jockey wanting to communicate with the horse through the reins, his legs and perhaps his voice, a horse travelling at 30-mph has to coordinate his eyes, legs and body in less than a second. It takes little imagination to presume there are times when he will fall back on what he first learned about jumping and either jump the hurdle too big or a fence too low, sometimes with dire consequences.
I am an advocate of hurdles as we know them being replaced by smaller versions of the steeplechase fence, as I believe it is in France. And we are always being told how well French-bred horses can jump, aren’t we? I had hoped the fixed-brush hurdles used at Haydock would have caught on with jockeys and trainers but seemingly the rubber-faced hurdles are taking precedent. On safety grounds I am sure this is a step in the right direction and cannot understand why all courses do not use them. Cost, perhaps?
Although hurdle races would change out of all recognition, I believe a gradual change-over to miniature steeplechase fences would lessen horse fatality as from its earliest days learning to jump till retirement the horse would only need to learn one style of jumping and hurdle racing would go back to, as it was first envisaged, I believe, a feeder system for steeplechasing.
Yes, it might lessen the appeal of the division, though equally specialists would emerge as was the case back when hurdle racing first appeared on the scene. What would become of the major hurdle races as we have them now, I cannot be sure. Certainly, miniature fences could not be jumped at the speed hurdle races are now but I am sure the new division would evolve into its own spectacle.
It would be interesting to know what jockeys make of this proposal. I’m pretty sure static jumps of the size of hurdles would result in less falls and consequently less injury to horse and rider, which is a recommendation in its self.
The image of the sport in the eyes of the ignorant public in these times of woke should not be underestimated. The steeplechase fence is as safe as it can be, I suspect, with perhaps the exception of which is the best colour to have take-off rails so the horse can best see the fence, but hurdles, in my estimation, are a hazard to safety. They move, which can catch out even the best of jumpers, and as horses convey over them, lickity-split, they make a rat-a-tat-tat sound similar to machine-gun fire which must be scary for the young horse.
I very much doubt my suggestion will be implemented, not in my lifetime anyway, but it would be a step in the right direction if it might stimulate debate on the matter. I doubt if Nicky Henderson would ever be convinced by my reasoning but perhaps the younger, more enlightened, trainer, might.