​The much-maligned, including by me, Matt Chapman, in informing his viewers that Cheltenham Gold Cup winning trainer Arthur Barrow was still hale and hearty at 80 and that his Gold Cup winner Master Smudge ran over 100-times, set me thinking. Galopin Des Champs, for instance, will, if we are lucky, have a career-span of forty races, though less, I suspect. Constitution Hill might not go beyond twenty at his present trajectory.
Master Smudge was no freak, by the way. Yesterday, I wrote that Spanish Steps ran 78-times in his ten-year career, that is an average of 7-races per season. A quick browse of a few of the books that are close at hand resulted in the following list. Monksfield, twice a champion hurdle winner, ran over 70-times. Sea Pigeon, also a dual champion hurdler and possible the greatest dual-purpose horse of all-time, ran 45-times on the flat, plus 40-times over hurdles. Moscow Flyer, dual Champion Chase winner and one of  the best 2-mile chasers of all-time, ran 41-times. Desert Orchid had a 55-race career. Silver Buck, Cheltenham Gold Cup winner, ran 45-times.
Of course, the facilities at any trainers’ disposal can be many times better than the facilities trainers used back in the 1950’s, 60’s, 70’s and possibly into the 1980’s but does that mean a horse in training today must therefore run fewer times than the days of the golden era of hurdlers, for instance? I do not recall a trainer when interviewed about one of his, and back in the sixties and seventies it was usually a male trainer, claiming that his horse ‘enjoyed being fresh’ and the phrase ‘super-fresh’ was totally unheard-of until Dan Skelton used it as an excuse not to run a horse and to demonstrate his skill at getting a horse 100% fit at home without recourse to running them in a race. To give Dan his due, he has admitted keeping Protektorat ‘super fresh’ proved a mistake.
I always raise an eyebrow when a trainer, even though they either have a point or are making a point, asks the question ‘where can I run him’, there are no races for him? Back in the day, it was customary to run horses destined for the Cheltenham Gold Cup under top weight in a handicap. A week before Silver Buck won the Gold Cup in 1892, he had won a handicap chase at Market Rasen with 12st 7Ibs on his back.
Sir Gino, for instance, is now liable to go to the Arkle Chase at Cheltenham with one novice chase as experience and a career-span of only half-a-dozen races all-told. His oft-maligned, though brilliant trainer, seems likely to decline a 2-mile novice chase at Bangor for Sir Gino as it is too close to Cheltenham, even though there is over 2-weeks between the races and it would be unlikely that Sir Gino need get out of second gear to beat the type of horse that would take him on. A far easier mission, I would guess, than what Michael Dickenson asked of Silver Buck all those years ago in the Cox Moore Sweaters handicap chase.
Trainers no longer choose to ‘boldly go’ where his or her contemporaries ‘fear to tread’. There was a time when a trainer would not hesitate to run a horse twice at the Cheltenham Festival if plan a had gone astray. Nowadays they would be shy away from doing so in case the ignorant few went to the press claiming some form cruelty was being enacted. 
If the major stumbling block to a trainer running a good or top-class horse more often is the programme of races, then the National Trainers’ Federation should instigate talks with the B.H.A. and the racecourses to provide the sort of races that are missing from the calendar, especially in the first month of the season proper and in the lead-up to Cheltenham.
Would any of the greats of the sport I mentioned earlier have achieved more if they were run as sparingly as today’s top horses? Or should that question be phrased the other way around?

​Ten, here, is an arbitrary, if traditional number when compiling a list. I have over 200 racing books, and in selecting ten, I was forced to reject about 30-books I would also take to the desert island if given the chance. The worst book I own by far, in fact if I were made of sterner stuff I would burn it, is ‘Aintree’s Queen Bee’ by Joan Rimmer.
I will not allot numbers to my ten as anyone who has suffered the misfortune to have read this website for a number of years will already be aware of my favourite book, the one I would take to my grave if I had anything to do with my funeral arrangements.
I will begin with a book I doubt any of you even knows exists. It is titled ‘Why Maurice?’ and is by Keith Greenwell. I know nothing more about the author than what can be found in his small yet somehow beautiful book about his favourite jockey, Maurice Barnes, rider of Rubstic, the 1979 Grand National winner. No spoilers here. Good luck finding a copy as it was privately published. A book worth hunting for, though.
‘A Race Apart’ is by now a record of times past, a look back on the beginning of the race to become known as ‘The Grand National’, the book concluding with the 1987 renewal. The author, Reg Green, lived, seemingly, for his home town’s greatest sporting event, going on to write two more ‘love letters’ to the Grand National, ‘Kings For A Day’ and ‘National Heroes’. I fear if he were alive today, he would be mortified by all the harmful changes to the race that have taken place since his demise.
The most beautiful book about the sport ever written, in my estimation, is ‘Pat Taaffe. My Life and Arkle’s. The only fault I have with this book is the length of it. 79-pages. By the final page, which always comes as a disappointment to me when I re-read it, you know both Pat Taaffe the jockey and Pat Taaffe the man. Also, you will have discovered the top four horses Pat ever rode, and you will be surprised by the horse he placed second to Arkle.
The next book deserves to be on every bookshelf of every racing man and woman. It is far from perfect, as any book created without the assistance of either a professional proof-reader and editor would be. At over 500-pages it is too long. But by crikey you learn a heap load of stuff about the greatest flat horse of my lifetime, Brigadier Gerard. The book ‘Brigadier Gerard and Me’ is authored by the ‘lad’ who held the privilege of looking after him for the whole of the time the horse was in training with Dick Hern. Again, this book was privately published by Laurie Williamson and if you would like to buy a copy [email protected] is where you should go. It is more interesting than many a book authored by a racing celebrity.
The best autobiography by a jockey is ‘Born Lucky’ by John Francome, a man never afraid to call a spade a spade, one of the great men of the modern-day turf and a man who if given a week in dictatorial charge of the sport would reek more change for the better than anyone who has had influence at the B.H.A. since it came into being. John is funny, kind and knowledgeable. All the facets you need to an unputdownable read.
‘The Will To Win’ by Jane McIlvaine surprised me and is a book I will re-read quite soon. It is the story of Tommy Smith and Jay Trump and is quite the rags to riches story. As things stand with the Grand National, I doubt there will every be occasion for a book of this sort to be written again. Americans no longer, it seems, has a fascination with the race, and with the emphasis on horses with a high rating only allowed into the race, an American-based horse has little chance of qualifying for the opportunity. A book that truly tells of the long haul to Aintree glory.
A similar book is ‘Battleship’ by Dorothy Ours, a story of a daring heiress, a teenage jockey and America’s horse. The 15.3-hands entire who conquered the Grand National in the hands of a seventeen-year-old jockey, Bruce Hobbs. One of the few books on National Hunt racing to feature Hollywood stars, Randolph Scott and Cary Grant. A book as much about American society as it is about horse racing, which makes for a more interesting read.
‘Brown Jack’ by R.C. Lyle, a leading equine writer of his day, is illustrated by Lionel Edwards, a leading equine artist of his day, with the subject of the book possibly the first horse publicly lionised by the racing public. This book is an affectionate account of a long career that began at Navan and in his first year also took in stops at Phoenix Park, Bournemouth and Cardiff and ended gloriously at Ascot in 1934 with a fifth win in the Queen Alexandra Stakes at Royal Ascot.
The Full Story of the Champion by Ivor Herbert should be on every bookshelf of every sports enthusiast and should be required reading by any young or middle-aged racing fan so they understand why no great horse of their lifetime can ever be compared in the same sentence with Arkle.
When I discovered that there was a book on the life of Spanish Steps, I set out on a mission to own a copy for myself. It was a long quest. In my ever-lengthening love affair with National Hunt, many horses have captured my affection, the last being Frodon, in the middle there was Denman, but first and perhaps foremost, there was Spanish Steps. The copy of ‘My Friend Spanish Steps’ by Michael Tanner, though I cannot remember where I bought it, is a throw-out from the Hampshire Library Services. Unwanted by them, treasured by me. I am sure the author would admit, being I believe, a first attempt, not his most professional of efforts and was also privately published. Ironically, on the day the book was being printed, the owner/trainer of Spanish Steps, Edward Courage, died. If Michael Tanner were to a publish a refreshed new edition of this book, I will be one of the first to buy a copy. From 1966 to 1976 Spanish Steps ran in 78-races, winning 16. Were horses so different back then that they could run so often? Or are modern-day horses weaker or their connections too timid? I wish Spanish Steps was my friend, too. Michael Tanner had the good fortune to know the horse. I only know the legend.
Perhaps I should send a love-letter to Frodon before it is too late?

​As with anyone who holds free speech as the most vital ingredient in a democratic country, I hold the Walsh family in the highest regard. Ruby I could listen to for hours on end. Katie was one the best female amateur jockeys in Irish racing history and Ted, well, Ted is a force of nature. Yet even the mighty Ted Walsh can get over-excited and forgetful, though as a champion of free speech I must respect his opinions, even when I believe him to be, perhaps, wrong.
He apparently phoned Willie Mullins recently and said that he thought the performance of Kopek Des Bordes at the Dublin Racing Festival was the best he has seen since Golden Cygnet. He could not have meant the best performance in the history of the D.R.F. as it was not around during Golden Cygnet’s brief period as the best young horse seen for many a long day. So, Ted must have meant the best performance since Golden Cygnet ran away with what we now refer to as the Supreme Hurdle at the Cheltenham Festival.
So, I must ask Ted Walsh, and everyone else? Kopek Des Brodes was more impressive than even Constitution Hill when he slammed Jonbon in the Supreme Hurdle?

Today, at Ffos Las, there is hunters chase which is worth marginally more to the winner than the 3-mile handicap chase earlier in the day. I am not suggesting that £3,500 is too much, only that a first-prize that is less than £3,500 is wrong by comparison. Hunter chases are an adjunct to point-to-points, which is an amateur sport, or once was. Now in Britain it is beginning to become, in part, as professional as in Ireland where it is more an industry than a sporting endeavour. The handicap chase on the card is regarded as a race for professionals, even if amateur riders and permit-holders can take part. The handicap chase is worth £3,247 to the winner, with the second receiving £1,494 and the third £747. The Hunter Chase is worth £3,500 to the winner, £1,700 to the second and £898 to the third. The two divisions of the Bumper at Huntingdon are worth a mere £2,178 to the winners, £1,003 to the second and £500 to the third.
It just seems topsy-turvy to me, another thorn in the side of owners with far more overheads than the owners of hunter-chasers, I would suggest.

The death of the Aga Khan is prominent in the Racing Post today, as would be expected and as the late Aga Khan deserves. If you read-up on the history of the flat, the family of Aga Khan features in virtually every decade for the past 100-years. I am not qualified to write about him, other than to say I was no fan due to his policy of retiring all his great horses at the end of their classic year, believing this policy deprives both the form-book and the racing public knowledge of the true ability and constitution of the colts that go on to be stallions that then influence the breed all over the world.

It is only February 6th and Willie Mullins has all his ducks in a row where Cheltenham is concerned. Taking away the intermediate chase can already be deemed a success. No debate whether Ballyburn goes for one race or another and Willie has even made up his mind which race will be El Fabiolo’s target and it will not be the Champion 2-mile Chase. What will the pundits have to argue over if Willie Mullins leaves us with no last-minute decisions. He has though made up his mind over where Fact Or File goes, and I suspect it will be the Gold Cup and letting him bowl along upsides his Galopin Des Champs, though this decision is still distilling in Willie’s mind. He will inform us when he has spoken to connections. It is also possible, as with Gaelic Warrior, that he might miss Cheltenham altogether.
That is so much better. Much more the Willie Mullions of old.

​Lydia Hislop and Ruby Walsh make a great double-act on the Paddy Power sponsored ‘Road To Cheltenham.’ An aside for a moment – the ad-slot for the programme, featuring Paddy Power himself, is comedy gold. I laugh every time I see it.
I could listen to both Ruby, for his expert analysis and keen observations, and Lydia for her wit, wisdom and handsome glow for hours upon end. Together they are a dream team. Compared to ‘Road To Cheltenham’, Matt Chapman and Paddy Brennan’s ‘Unbridled’ podcast is amateurish and at times juvenile, with Paddy Brennan giving the appearance as constantly arguing with himself as to why he had signed-up to play stooge to the largest ego in racing. (Chapman can be so damned good, yet chooses to squander his ability to connect with an audience by assaulting them with boastful noise and his belief in his own cleverness).
Anyway, I admire the writing style of Patrick Mullins and always enjoy the work of David Jennings. But by far my favourite racing personality is Jane Mangan, who seamlessly on the last ‘Road To Cheltenham’ proved a great foil to the interplay between Walsh and Hislop, her wit and perception a joy to behold. You know, I am pretty certain I could stare at a photograph of Jane Mangan all morning without ever thinking it was time wasted. That is probably not the compliment to Jane I intend it to be, as frankly even as I read what I have written, it comes across as a bit creepy, and I dare say Jane has enough grandfathers already without craving an English pseudo version. But she is pretty to look at, easy to listen to and her greatest assets are her personality and knowledge. Oh, and by heavens, she is adorable, with her own fashion-style to boot!

I am nostalgic for the permit trainer. Remember Frank Coton winning the Grand National with Grittar, ridden by amateur Dick Saunders? The great chasers trained by Edward Courage, Spanish Steps, Royal Relief, Tiberetta, to name but three. Geoff Hubard, Reg Tweedie, the list would go on if my memory was in a more cooperative mood. The sport was healthier and more intriguing for their presence and something needs to be done to restore the amateur to visibility.
Even the point-to-point field is now populated by professional outfits, as with the Gina Andrews stable, even if such operations exist mainly to produce maiden winners to sell on for six-figure sums at the boutique auction sales, it must be depressing for the true amateur to have compete against those as professional as the names we see every day in the Racing Post.
Is it not time to upgrade point-to-pointing – after-all horses, I believe, no longer need to be hunted to qualify to run in point-to-points – to a kind of conference league status? If every owner-trainer of a point-to-point horse was given the title ‘permit trainer’ and allowed to run their horse under rules if the spirit moved them, we could have permit trainer involvement once again and also, I would hope, boost numbers and competitiveness on a daily basis.
Given that point-to-pointing is run under the same rules as the ‘professional’ side of the sport, why not allow licenced trainers to run horses in point-to-points, if only to give experience to young amateur jockeys and horses in need of confidence-building. Both branches of the sport need help at the moment; why should it be impossible for them to help each other. The only change I can envisage is that point-to-points may have to adopt 4 or 5-day declarations rather than declare on the day, as is traditional with pointing.

I was born in 1954. I did not know it at the time but evidence has come to hand that suggests the truth of my age. Obviously, I was not aware that only a few weeks beforehand, Royal Tan had given a young whipper-snapper called Vincent O’Brien the middle leg of what was to become three successive Grand National victories. I also had no notion that Miss Dorothy Paget owned Mont Tremblant, the 1952 Cheltenham Gold Cup winner, and 2nd in the following year’s Grand National, and that she was as mad as a box of frogs, yet loved by some and despised by others and not known by all. A great woman and a flawed-giant of the sport. Five-weeks before I was born, Mont Temblant was 3rd in the Gold Cup (run on March 4th, would you believe) behind Four Ten, ridden by Tommy Cusack.
In this period of my birth, the ‘greatest’ hurdler of all time was Sir Ken, trained by the redoubtable Willie Stephenson, though some clung to the memory of Trespasser, with National Spirit still a contender for the accolade, with others believing the recently retired Hatton’s Grace outranked them all. Sir Ken was considered unbeatable and few took him, resulting in a sequence of 16 wins on the trot. Strangely, when we today compose our ‘greatest of all-time’, it is rare for any of the forementioned to be considered.
Fred Winter was the greatest jockey of his day, and is still considered one of the best of all-time. It was thought a remarkable feat that he rode a hundred-winners in a single season, finishing with 121 winners from 471 mounts.
I have a book ‘The Horseman’s Year, 1954, edited by W.E. Lyon and the only National Hunt races worthy of being noted as ‘important races’ were: Grand Sefton Chase at Liverpool, just under 3-miles, won by Wot No Sun in 1953. King George VI Chase, Kempton, 3-miles, won by Halloween. Great Yorkshire Chase, Doncaster, 3-miles, won by Knock Hard, to be mentioned again soon. Champion Hurdle, Cheltenham, 2-miles, won by Sir Ken. National Hunt Chase, Cheltenham, 4-miles, won by Pontage. Cheltenham Gold Cup, Cheltenham, 3miles 2-furlongs, won by Knock Hard, trained by Vincent O’Brien. Foxhunters Challenge Cup, Cheltenham, 4-miles, won by Merry, ridden by Gay Kindersley. Triumph Hurdle, Hurst Park, 2-miles, won by Clair Soleil, ridden by Fred Winter. Imperial Cup, Sandown, 2-miles, won by High Point. Liverpool Hurdle, Liverpool, 2-miles 1-furlong, won by Teapot, trained by Magnier, ridden by Pat Taaffe. Grand National, Liverpool, 4-miles 856-yards, won by Early Mist, trained by Vincent O’Brien.
It is good to look back to times we never knew, to a sport we would hardly recognise, even if the cast names can be as familiar to us the brands of beer we drink and the crisps we eat. Taaffe, O’Brien, Winter.

​Of all the people throughout the history of National hunt racing privileged to have owned a horse, or even part-owned a horse-in-training, only a minute few have experienced owning a true champion. It was disappointing to me to read ‘The Persian War Story’ co-written with Sid Barnes, that Henry Alper had no real appreciation of the privilege bestowed on him by fate to own a three-times Champion Hurdler. It was, to read his book, all about him, how clever he was.
What is gratifying at the moment, is that both the owners of Galopin Des Champs and Constitution Hill both acknowledge the privilege of owning such a great horse. With both, the horse comes first; it is his own person and they both give the impression, the Turleys and Michael Buckley, that they tag along for the thrill of being part of it all.
There is little worse for me than to be confronted by an owner with the mind-set that as he pays the bills everything must be about him. Or her, obviously. It irks me, for example, whenever an owner, be it an Arabian prince or noble or Joe Soap, grabs the reins off the groom leading in their winner. Trainers should educate their owners against the effrontery of stealing the limelight from those who do all of the work in order for the owner to have his or her winner.
Audrey Turner held the off-side rein of Galopin Des Champs on Saturday, which is as it should be. She also embraced the groom in the winners’ enclosure, demonstrating her gratitude for the shared experience. Good people deserve good winners, no matter how rich they might be. I do not know the Turleys but from a long way away they seem as rich in good manners as they might be in wealth and I hope their great horse wins his third Gold Cup in five-weeks. Though I do not hope for it, as three-more for Galopin will just prolong the Irish dominance, but there has not been a horse in my lifetime, apart from Arkle, of course, with the potential likelihood of achieving five Gold Cup as I believe might be the legacy of Galopin Des Champs, equalling Golden Miller’s total.

While it is easy to criticise the Professional Racing Association, led by Peter Savill, for its hob-nailed boots approach to achieving forward momentum in negotiations with the Racecourse Association and other professional racing bodies, there is good intent at its core. The ban on trainers connecting with the public through the camera lens was so far off-side it should have been noticed by someone within the P.R.A., if not Peter Savill himself, and not left to the public to point out the crass silliness of the strategy.
Today, Peter Scargill in his Tuesday column in the Racing Post, tells us that several well-known and successful trainers have let it be known to him that their business hardly makes them a bean, with one-trainer only having to pay the taxman £5,000 for his twelve-months labour. Yet, I would argue, as desperate as his assertions may be, apart from the elite few, trainers have never made a fortune from training horses. Not that I am arguing that is a fair situation. It is not; far from it.
I have always maintained that efforts should be made to ensure everyone involved in our sport should at the very least have the opportunity to make a fair living. I maintain that there should be a race or two each week restricted to trainers with less, for example, than ten-winners on the board in the previous 12-months. I also suggest there should be 4 or 5 races a week restricted to jockeys with less than 12, 20 or 30-winners during the previous 12-months, and meetings wholly restricted to such jockeys. Without a happy everybody, the sport will end-up with nobody.
Yesterday at Punchestown there was a race confined to people who work in a stable but have not ridden under rules or in point-to-points. Sir Gerhard won the race, ridden by Amy Morrissey, led-up by a certain Paul Townend, showing his appreciation to the staff at Closutton for their work ethic and in making his job so rewarding.
It seems to me, an outsider looking in, that the P.R.A. is more interested in bolstering the earning capacity of the few, rather than doing what they can to help everyone in racing pay their bills on time. What is needed if for there to be a conference, attended by all sectors of the sport, including representatives of the B.H.A., where everyone can pitch proposals that might put right all that is wrong with the sport.

Disappointing to read that Amy Murphy is the latest trainer to jump ship and take her business to France in hope of achieving a French Euro fortune. The only good light that can be gleaned from this exercise in betrayal is that the staff she leaves behind will help swell the staff at other Newmarket yards, easing the shortages that make life ever more difficult for trainers. Yes, it is an indictment of the state of British racing that someone as relatively successful as Amy Murphy feels that her business can only fail if she stays at home and must relocate, yet I would argue that if everyone stayed loyal to the sport in this country, and contributed a small amount to help sustainability, the core product is not so holed as to make it certain to be scuppered.
For instance, if only those owners with large or moderately large strings of horses were to send a horse to a trainer outside of the trainer who at the moment has all or most of their horses, an extra pebble on a pebble beach, perhaps, but it might make the difference between a trainer going under and having a profitable business.

​When a young (ish) journalist is asked to sub for a more experienced and better-known colleague, he or she knows they are making it in the profession. Chris Cook must be away on his annual winter break and his Monday review column was given to Matt Rennie, a Scot, I should imagine, as is Chris Cook.
My only moan about Matt Rennie’s worthy effort in filling bigger boots is his assertion that Final Demand’s romp at the Dublin Racing Festival justified his owner Bryan Drew’s desertion of British trainers. No, Matt, it does not justify anything. Prize-money in Ireland is, by and large, no better than in this country. Bryan Drew has turned to Ireland in order to get himself a bit of the Mullins’ pie. If he had spread the horses he either owns or part-owns, as it is with Final Demand, over three or four lesser trainers, for want of a phrase, I could forgive Mr. Drew. But he chooses to bask in the glories of Closutton when he could have taken the decision to remain loyal to British trainers, British racing and helped to steer change for the better in his homeland. For this reason and this reason alone, I hope Final Demand does not win at the Cheltenham Festival as I respect those who display loyalty and have little respect for those who jump ship for selfish intent.

Gaelic Warrior is of enigmatic character and will doubtless flummox, intrigue and create awe for the length of his stay at Closutton. He is as likely to win the Champion Chase, if that remains his target at the Cheltenham Festival, as be pulled-up. It is perfectly possible he might run in the Ryanair and be a running-on third or fourth, looking every inch a Gold Cup horse. Some horses are like that, and quite often they are blessed with huge amounts of ability. When Goshen was younger, for example, he was far more entertaining than the good boy who ran a respectable third in a competitive handicap at Sandown last Saturday. Of course, it is possible that Gaelic Warrior has no love for Leopardstown. That is the second time he has run no race at the Dublin Racing Festival and yet come March last season he bounced back to his best in the Arkle. Or maybe he does lack class and needs heavy ground to slow down the opposition. We will learn the truth in 5-weeks-time, perhaps.

Calamity, so nearly calamity. When Lossiemouth took her purler in the Irish Champion Hurdle my heart skipped several beats as it looked a fall with the possibility of dire consequences. Then, in a split-second, I was holding my breath as it seemed for all worlds that Stage Man was destined to fall over her. They say that Stage Man is nothing if not dependable and in changing course so deftly he highlighted his dependability. He saved the day, even if the day and the weekend went to Paul Townend.

I was not impressed by Ballyburn until the final 100-yards when he bolted clear of a half-decent novice chaser in Croke Park. Of the two, I remain convinced that The Jukebox Man is the better prospect for putting it up to Galopin Des Champs in the Gold Cup next year, yet there is no denying that Ballyburn has class and stamina written all over him. I hope both horses come to hand early next season and clash in the King George on Boxing Day.

Whenever Matt Chapman is in close proximity to an attractive young lady, as on Sunday in the company of Meg Nicholls, he postures with the inelegance of a bull around an in-season heifer. His blunt interruption when it was suggested that Solness might be a worthy contender for the Champion 2-mile Chase, which after winning two Grade 1 2-mile chases he undoubtedly is, demonstrated all that is wrong with the often brilliant Matt Chapman. He cannot help himself; he has to be right; he has to have the last word. In emphasising with dictatorial loudness that Jonbon is a good thing for the Champion Chase he is merely aligning himself with what the majority of us believe. I dare say Oli Bell and Meg Nicholls think the same. Yet last year was Matt one of the multitude who thought El Fabiolo only had to turn-up to win the race? Recently, the Champion 2-miler has been the race to throw-up surprise winners. Not that Solness would be in that category if he were the one to take advantage of any misfortune that might befell the favourite.

​Let me make myself clear form the outset: Galopin Des Champs is a brilliant steeplechaser, and most likely the best Irish-trained steeplechaser since Arkle, and I would add, Flyingbolt. Never forget Flyingbolt. I cannot see him getting beat in the Gold Cup and, if Ben Pauling was not around with The Jukebox Man and Handstands, I would say this with greater certainty, it is short odds he will achieve one Gold Cup more than Arkle. 
I just wish Willie Mullins would bring him to Britain more often than one race per season. Come on, Willie, put a King George on Galopin Des Champs c.v.. Make an argument for Galopin Des Champs being better than Kauto Star. Winning the same races over and over, beating the same horses over and over again, is just standing still. He is no Arkle, yet Galopin Des Champs is already up there with Kauto and Desert Orchid as one of the best of modern times, indeed of all-time.
Now then. Is anyone concerned about how close Grangeclare West, a 50/1 outsider, albeit a stable-mate of the winner, got to Galopin Des Champs? He was never going to win and it would take a bucket-load of optimism to think he might trouble his illustrious stable-mate at Cheltenham, yet he is a relatively lightly raced horse and this was his best career performance and in beating Fact To File, perhaps a non-stayer, though it did not look that way last season, he took a notable scalp. If Grangeclare West does not line-up for the Gold Cup, he could easily be a contender for the Grand National this season, a race I would pay gold sovereigns to see Galopin Des Champs in.

Why is it accepted doctrine that it is difficult for the best 4-year-old hurdlers of their generation to transfer their ability to their 5-year-old seasons? Yet here we have two five-year-olds, the top 4-year-old hurdlers of their generation, Majborough and Sir Gino, dominating the novice chase scene.
We accept as absolute that the best 4-year-olds of their generation will struggle as 5-year-olds. But do we give these young horses the opportunity to progress naturally from ages 4 to 5 and beyond? The race formerly known as the Free Handicap Hurdle and run at Chepstow in October should be reinstated in the calendar, though perhaps transferred to Cheltenham’s Open Meeting, and there should be 4-year-old hurdles up and down the country right up to January, becoming 5-year-old hurdles thereafter. This generation of hurdlers, the 4-year-olds rising five, are National Hunt’s version of 3-year-olds on the flat, and should be treated accordingly.

On the flat, Joseph O’Brien is already in the same sphere as the Gosdens or Dermot Weld, and only a smidgen on the ladder of brilliance behind his father. He has the oracle and he knows how to get it to work to his advantage. Yet as a trainer of jumpers, where he is equally successful. He is someone who likes to charge at windmills, a little fish in an ocean of sharks and killer whales. Our sport is so much better for having him amongst us; pray he will continue training jumpers for a few more years yet.

Keep on your radar St.Pancras, a winner at Musselburgh yesterday. The race was a bit of a pantomime, with two false starts, with St. Pancras greatly hindered when the race finally got on its way, and three fallers at the last hurdle. He is a fine-looking horse and showed battling qualities to get up and win quite cosily, though I would sanction Kevin Brogan for his over-zealous use of the whip on a horse giving his all. If he turns-up for the Fred Winter at the Festival, he is one to have on your side.

As predicted – not a prediction anyone would have laughed-at – Gordon Elliott no longer leads the trainers’ table in Ireland. Doubtless he will not lead it again until next summer. It is a shame as his presence at the top of the table has intrigued me since November.

​The man is Willie Mullins and it is perfectly possible he could go through the card at the Dublin Festival Festival and to have the runners-up in each race. Is that good for the sport, even if it is very good for those who work at Closutton? Wouldn’t we all like to be as successful as Willie Mullins?
As a distraction here are 14 aspects of equestrianism some of you might not be familiar with.
1). The joint between the pastern and the cannon bone is called the fetlock. Oddly, the boot sometimes used to protect the fetlock should a horse knock the joint is called an ‘ankle boot.’
2). A ‘Blood Horse’ is a thoroughbred. A thoroughly confusing term for the uninitiated as it suggests some horses may well be bloodless. That said, the definition of a thoroughbred is ‘animals registered or eligible for registration in the English General Studbook’. Confusingly, there is also the term ‘pure-bred’ which is sometimes used to refer to a thoroughbred but where every thoroughbred is per se a pure-bred, not every pure-bred is a thoroughbred.
3). A horse that is cast in his stable or stall or box (the names are interchangeable) lies down in such a way that his legs are against a wall of said stable, stall or box, and is unable to rise without human intervention. If a horse should panic in such a situation, he might do great or irreparable damage to himself.
4). A dog that strays on to a racecourse used to be known as a Derby Dog.
5). You can subdue a horse, perhaps when being uncooperative for the administrations of a vet or when being clipped, by twisting its ear. This method is also useful, I am told, to bring to heel an out-of-control child.
6). When a horse is said to ‘favour a leg’, it is throwing its weight on the opposite leg in an effort to reduce the pain or discomfort in the injured leg. Horses do not generally have favourite legs.
7). A gelded horse has had his testicles removed. It is done to help a horse become more malleable. I am told this procedure would be of great benefit to a good many men.
8) The terms half-brother and half-sister refers to the parentage of a horse, for example having the same dam (mother), but a different father. In recent decades humans have seen merit in this, with a good percentage of families populated by different fathers within the same family unit. We do not refer to horses with the same mother but different father bastards, though we used to refer to children as bastards when they had a mother but no father. The word is now used a) when someone hits a finger with a hammer or similar, b) to refer to a politician, especially a Prime Minister with the initials K.S. c) as a go-to adjective.
9). For a horse to be in-hand, it is being led around a paddock or ring by a lead rein. It also refers to a horse being under control. A lesson here, I believe, that if transferred to parenting could bring about a better kind of teenager.
10). For Rolling Stone’s fans. A Jagger was a term for an English pedlar’s pack-horse. I wonder if Mick is aware of that.
11). To ‘lay off’ is to hedge or reduce a bet by wagering the other way as race-time approaches or, in modern times, during an actual race. I would suggest laying off gambling altogether as it can lead to many side-effects, as with having to pass across personal banking details to someone who have never met. Just ask the Gambling Commission.
12). A maiden is a horse that has not won a race. It is also a mare that has never been bred from. Equestrian people are demure and easily shocked and use the ‘term’ maiden as to them the word ‘virgin’ would be to reduce themselves to that of common folk and is also too much of a reminder of Sir Richard Branson. What has happened to him lately?
13). A nut-cracker is a horse that grinds his teeth and not a horse that grinds his nuts, though they could if minded to. Men do not grind their nuts, though some women might want to do it for them.
14). ‘Off in a bucket’ is old slang for when a horse wins at long odds.
Are you bored with this now. I am.
Enjoy Galopin Des Champs. A great horse. Better than Best Mate, though not as lovable as Kauto Star. And do not ever compare him to Arkle or – well, you will find out.

Finally, my condolences to the family of John Hales. To my shame, I had only just come to admire him to the same extent of those who knew him personally. The last words I head him speak were to Mick Fitzgerald at Windsor after Protektorat had won the Fleur-de-lys. Mick had suggested that if Protektorat won again at the Cheltenham Festival he would become the best horse John had owned. John would have none of it. ‘One of my top three.’ Having named Protektorat alongside One Man and Neptune Collonges as the best horses he had owned. Any horse owned by John Hales and his family are very lucky horses indeed.

​The debate in the Racing Post today is why Galopin Des Champs in not universally loved. Given that he has achieved far more than Constitution Hill, who is adored by the public, it is surprising that this is a topic of conversation six-weeks away from his impending coronation as a three-times winner of the Blue Riband race in National Hunt’s racing calendar. While the Henderson superstar has won only one Champion Hurdle compared to Closutton’s superstar having won two Gold Cup, with a third awaiting his arrival at Cheltenham in March, you would have thought that Galopin would be the more treasured of the two.
The reason for the disparity in affection is simple, at least to me. Galopin only makes one visit to British shores each season. It was the same with Arkle, though less so. At the beginning, while we in this country believed in Mill House we had the successor to Golden Miller, ‘Himself’ was adored more in his homeland than here. Here (Britain) Arkle was the usurper. He came, he saw, he conquered, and, worst of all, he took both our dreams away with him and our reputations for recognising a superstar when we saw it. Arkle became the superstar soon enough, while Mill House became loved for forever getting up off the floor in vain attempts to rekindle the aura of mightiness he had established by winning the Gold Cup aged only six, before Arkle put him firmly in his place. And when he defied the darkening of his career by winning the 1967 Whitbread Gold Cup – ‘grown men had tears in their eyes’, David Nicholson, his rider that day, is reported as saying – he was the most popular winner of the season.
Arkle cemented his popularity by racing as often in England as he did in Ireland. If Willie Mullins was to be bolder and less tied to traditions of his own making and brought Galopin to Kempton on Boxing Day or even attempted ‘an Arkle’ and tried Galopin in a handicap, the former Hennessey or Whitbread, I am sure his popularity would surge. Not that Willie Mullins ever will allow sentiment or a need to have the British racing public send his great horse birthday cards and boxes of polo-mints, to affect what he thinks is right for the horse and his lucky owners.
I will always contend that the affection thought to have flowed toward Best Mate was not so much for him, as again we just did not see him often enough on the racecourse for a bond to develop as intangible and magical as we had with Desert Orchid but for Henrietta and Terry, the ageing sweethearts. They were the story, the fact that in effect Henrietta’s love had saved Terry’s life when he was all but a wasted rose. Terry, as with Mill House, was peeled off the canvas and once again the public could think of him as the dashing buccaneer of a jockey that was his reputation.
Galopin Des Champs will inevitably become one of the few in six-weeks-time, joining Best Mate on a roll of honour that is short on numbers and which is adorned by Arkle and Cottage Rake and towered over, statistically, by Golden Miller’s five Gold Cups, even though back then the Gold Cup was nothing more than a glorified Grand National trial.

On the topic of Golden Miller. One of the races at the Cheltenham Festival – I believe it might have been the now cancelled intermediate novice chase – apparently had as its registered title ‘The Golden Miller’. I am not sure how this honours one of the sport’s greatest steeplechasers, when no one, as far as I am aware, ever used his name in relation to a race that has had so many sponsors over the years it would make a good quiz question if anyone could name at least three of them. Golden Miller won five Cheltenham Gold Cups, no matter the lesser esteem it was held in during his lifetime. He is also the only horse to have won a Grand National and a Gold Cup in the same year. To my mind he is equal of the honour of immortality as Arkle. We have the ‘Arkle’ and we should have the ‘Golden Miller’, and I would suggest the 3-mile novice chase, presently going under the title of the ‘Brown Advisory’, not that I know who or what Brown Advisory do for a living. As I said many times, this race would benefit the sport and whichever sponsor takes it under their wing if it were advertised as The Golden Miller Novice Chase, presented to you by Brown Advisory, followed by a short description of the sponsor.
Also, while writing about Golden Miller. Basil Briscoe, who trained the great horse to his Grand National victory and four of his Gold Cups – he was owned by the mercurial Dorothy Paget – wrote a really terrible book about the horse, though mainly about himself, ‘The Life of Golden Miller’. We have so many top-notch writers in this country, many who earn their crust writing for the Racing Post, I would implore one of these people to write a book about the horse and the racing times in which he lived. Ivor Herbert wrote commendable books on the life of both Arkle and Red Rum, and other great horses like Sea Pigeon, Monksfield and Moscow Flyer have had equally splendid accounts of their lives published. But as with Persian War, another dreadful book, Golden Miller languishes in history as unloved and unremembered as it seems Galopin Des Champs might be in 75-years time. As with Red Rum’s three Grand National wins, Golden Miller holds a unique place in National Hunt history. He at the very least deserves his name enshrined in a race at the Cheltenham Festival and for a good writer to write good account of his life.

​Remember the name, Burns, claims seven, Nicola Burns. Whether she goes on to become the Holly Doyle of Irish racing we will have to wait and see. Talent can sometimes be negated by bad luck or, when it comes to females, sexism. From 57 career rides she has already achieved 9 winners, which is pretty good statistics for a young lass not long from gaining her leaving certs.
I write, as normal, in ignorance of the girl. I have never seen her ride and do not know which stable she is attached to. Her father trains, indeed her first winner was for him, but that may be too quick an assumption. I know from a quick bit of research that she has ridden for 29 different trainers already, winning for 7 of them, so my instinct for spotting rising stars can be backed up by evidence that professionals are also seeing something in her.
I mention Nicola Burns as I believe Ireland needs a stronger female perspective in the riding ranks. Rachael Blackmore is 35; she will not be adorning the weigh room for many more years and in National Hunt there is literally no other female professional within a leap year of her. In fact, you have to look to female-only races to find a female who rides winners over jumps in Ireland. Through no fault of her own, Rachael’s magnificent career will leave no legacy of female participation when it comes to jockeys. Which is mad when you consider that before her both Katy Walsh and Nina Carberry were revered as two of the best amateur riders of modern times.

Gordon Elliott has not exactly turned his back on the Dublin Racing Festival but in keeping Brighterdaysahead, Gerri Colombe and a few of his other top horses for the Cheltenham Festival, is he gifting so many Grade 1’s to his arch-rival, Willie Mullin, or should it be the other way around? Perhaps Elliott is the arch-rival of Mullins. But is he a rival at all? Anyway, to get back on point. Is he conceding the trainers’ championship. Unlikely as it seems given the history of the Irish trainers’ championship for the past fifteen-years, Elliott is still top of the table, which must be quite original for Mullins not be leading the way as we close in on February.
Gordon greatest ambition, I should imagine, is to be champion trainer in Ireland. He has won 3-Nationals, with one of them being a proper Grand National with Silver Birch, and he has a Cheltenham Gold Cup in the bag. But he has never finished in front of Mullins in the trainers’ table. He has been mugged at the finishing line, when Mullins had to win practically every race at the Punchestown Festival to beat him and achieved the fete.
So why has he keeping his big guns at home and leaving Mullins to go 3, 4, 5 or 6-handed on Saturday and Sunday to mop-up all the money on offer? By Sunday night, Mullins will undoubtedly leap-frog Elliott and go on to win his zillionth trainers’ title.

A study carried out on behalf of British dressage, the other equestrian sports, the Pony Club, the B.H.A. and Horse Welfare, has thrown-up some predictable results. But that does not mean professional horse racing folk should sneer at the results or take the attitude of ‘what do they know’? Those who took part in the survey expressed concerns about injuries and fatalities in horse-related sports, which everyone who cares for horses would agree with, and the after-care of horses when they are retired. A subject, at long last, British racing is addressing and which can only be improved upon year-by-year now that the auction houses, along with buyers and sellers, are contributing £12 per horse sold at auction to R.o.R. This was my idea and I will keep saying it as it is singularly my proudest achievement. If I wanted the expense of a gravestone, I would have it engraved in gold along with my name.
49% of respondents were either ‘not at all accepting’ of the whip in racing or only ‘slightly accepted’ its use. As I have said many times, and in many ways, as someone who does not live amongst racing folk, the whip, along with fatalities, something we could only abolish if we stopped breeding thoroughbreds and closed every racecourse, putting thousands of people out of work, was of greatest concern. We can do something about the whip, though, and perhaps edge that 49% into acceptance of our sport. For the sake of all those people who earn a wage from horse racing, and for the sake of the horses we very nearly worship, why are we not urging from within to have the B.H.A. trial no-whip races or ‘one-hit and that’s it’, my preferred option, so we can at least have data to argue the case one way or the other.
Oh, in case Matt Chapman either reads this or is told about my views – shut-up, this is not about who can shout the loudest, this is about the survival of the sport. No hit racing would be a small sacrifice if it allowed the 49% to become 1%.