IRISH DERBY, MEMORY FAILURE & NOT ENOUGH OF AN OPTIMIST TO BE A GAMBLER.

It is not generally good, is it, this near total domination by one trainer, one jockey (more or less) and one breeding and racing operation? It is spectacular, of course, unprecedented, almost certainly, yet coming close to turning people away from our sport due to the predictability of what is going to happen. The saving grace, of course, is that Aidan will run 3.4 or 5-horses in a race, all of them with the breeding to suggest winning a Group 1 would be a formality, ensuring there is real competition, even if, as with yesterday's Irish Derby, what we have is two races in one, one involving the Ballydoyle horses and another involving those who dare to take on the Ballydoyle battalion. 

For all the faith Ryan Moore has in Benvenuto Cellini, and he was a good winner of the race, I cannot believe he is the best 3-year-old of this generation of colts and fillies. And if he is the top 3-year-old at Ballydoyle this time around, it does not say very much for every other 3-year-old trained by the opposition. On softish ground, it is very easy to see Christmas Day taking his revenge over his more illustruous stable-mate. Over 2-furlongs further, there was enough improvement in Pierre Bonnard to make a case for him bettering Christmas Day in the Doncaster St.Leger. The disppointment from The Curragh was that it is extremely difficult to make a case for any of the beaten horses doing any better against the Ballydoyle team in the coming months, not even in the Autumn when the ground might ride softer.

What is very apparent is that flat racing operates in Aidan's world. What he is achieving is beyond what anyone thought possible. 1, 2, 3's in both the French and Irish Derbys, the winner of the Epsom Derby, the Irish 2,000 Guineas, the French 2,000 Guineas and did he win the French 1,000 Guineas as well? For a man with a fading memory who has always relied on his memory rather than the form book, it is hard to keep tabs on Aidan's mastery of the sport. It is no wonder that John Gosden gets a bit pissed off with Aidan now and again when a legend like him is is made to look like a David fighting Goliath, like Newport County having to face Manchester City every weekend.

The Racing Post reported today the death of ex-jockey Gerald Faulkner, a man whose main claim to fame was riding his maiden winner in the Midlands National at Uttoxeter on Proud Percy, trained by Arthur Stephenson. I recall Proud Percy and obviously I remember Arthur Stephenson. But the name Gerald Faulkner escapes me. According to his daughter, her father's passion for horses and racing never deserted him and he even died wearing a t-shirt with a phrase that seemingly encapsulated his life-long ethos. 'Just A Boy Who Loves Horses'.

There must be a thin line between optimism and addiction and I very much doubt that those who wish to crush a sport to save the few have any concept of what they will achieve if successful. To bet small multiple times a week you have to be optimistic of success, of being optimistic of breaking even, at least. People with little money who bet big occasionally are more likely to be desperate, down on their luck and as much in need of being talked down as a man standing on the window ledge of a high building. These people have lost their optimism and need help. On the other hand, Someone of  Tony Bloom's wealth should be allowed to put 4 or 5-figure sums on a horse as millionaires can bear loss in a simarily same easy way as you or I eat toast. In the same way a man retired with two pensions and a lifetime's savings in the bank can stand losing a hundred-quid here and there. To my simplistic mind there is an easier solution than the government's affordability checks. A most recent current account bank statement. That is all. There would be no need, no restriction on people of Tony Bloom's status. But if I went into a betting office, it would be expected of me to produce a bank statement to prove I could afford to lose 20-quid or whatever sum I would be rash enough to want to spend.

As you can easily imagine, I am far too much of a pessimist to bet more than occassionally. As a teenager I was more carefree and spent my pocket money every Saturday on the I.T.V. 7 as it was back in the 1960's. From carefree to careworn! But that is life: you win some, you lose some. It is the bookmaker's duty to recognise addiction and to offer help.