For all the shut-down strangers and hot-rod angels rumbling through this promised land

Today I read Tony Morris' column in the January edition of Thoroughbred Owner Breeder, and it reminded me that two of the topics which have been simmering away while I haven't been doing much blogging have been 'street racing' and 'team racing'.  I think that we've touched upon these previously; and regular readers probably could work out that I'm inclined to be sceptical about both.  Tony is such a good writer and, predictably, he has summed up the pros and cons of street racing more succinctly than I could have done.  "So what do we need to recruit more fans to our sport?  We certainly don't need street racing, which will antagonise more people than it will attract".

I couldn't have put it better myself.  I don't know that I'd be as adamant about team racing as Tony is, but even so I feel that he's probably got this one right too.  "If the BHA sanctions the crackpot scheme for a series of team races next summer, it will merely confirm that it has totally lost the plot".  As I understand it, the idea of team racing is that for eight consecutive Thursdays there will be an evening card consisting of very valuable 0-90 handicaps, with the only horses eligible being those previously allocated to a team.

I think that we've covered this previously, but basically if the 12 teams are the 12 biggest stables, or even the 12 biggest owners, then this wouldn't even deserve to get off the drawing board.  I could hardly think of a more divisive move, of a move more likely to cause widespread dissatisfaction, than one which creates a large pool of extra prize money for which one is only eligible if one has one's horse in one of the dozen biggest stables.  Its only hope is to be as inclusive, as regards its spread of stables and owners, as possible - or, alternatively, if each race which is held is mirrored by an identical one open to all qualifying horses who are not a member of one of the teams.

Think that that sounds ludicrous?  Well, no more so (less so, in fact) than the situation which had to be applied when Newmarket wanted to stage a race for grey horses a few years ago (which it has been doing annually ever since then, and which was and is a very good idea).  Unbelievably, our overlords (not the BHA, I would imagine, as this was a while ago - probably the BHB might have been in charge at that time) decided that this would be discriminatory against horses who aren't grey, so what was decided was that, if there was going to be a race for grey horses on the Saturday afternoon, the Friday evening card must contain a race with conditions identical apart from the stipulation that it was for horses registered as being any colour other than grey.

It could work. Couldn't it?  Prize money galore for horses rated up to and including 90.  We could get used to that.  And we'd probably have to get used to seeing horses rated in the low 90s (and high 80s) finishing unplaced in their races shortly before the series starts.

Have a good Christmas, a decent Christmas (whatever that means)

Ooh, I don't want to go two weeks (again) without without writing a chapter, so here we are on Christmas Day.  I'd hoped that we might end the year with a winner when we took Konigin to Lingfield on Saturday, ie three days ago, but that was not to be.  What I had feared might happen did happen, ie we suffered from the 'equine bingo' factor of Lingfield and didn't get the best of runs.  Still, she ran well which is always pleasing, even if in this case frustrating too: a strong-finishing fifth, beaten neck, neck, neck, head.  We have one more chance in 2018, Sacred Star at Lingfield on Sunday, but it would probably be unrealistic to expect her to win second time out, having finished a good but well-beaten fourth first time out.

No racing on TV today - terrible!  How can this be allowed?!!  I don't enjoy the run-up to Christmas at all, as I always have too much to do even at the best of times, and the run-up to Christmas is very far from the best of times in that respect.  And the very short days (you'll note from the photos that the race was run as the sun set, and it was the 3.25) and the cold/wet/windy (delete as applicable - usually one deletes nothing) weather get me down, mentally and physically.  But the good thing about Christmas is that (not perhaps that the 'Are you ready for Christmas?' interrogators realise this) it arrives whether one is ready for it or not.  And it's generally a pleasant day.  And then we make up for the three-day lack of racing on the TV by being treated to a feast over the subsequent few days.  I'm looking forward to that.

What I'm trying to work out is whether we'll have our Boxing Day racing spoiled by hearing too much agonising about the ground being too soft or not soft enough.  We seem invariably to hear complaints about either one or the other nowadays.  We had the not-soft-enough lament for months and months and months; and then earlier this month we went from the one to the other within a week, and we were then hearing about how difficult it was with the ground being so soft.  Hard to tell which we'll have to endure tomorrow.  Possibly both.  And I'm not joking about that, bearing in mind that Kempton is currently (and strangely) described as "Good to Soft, Good (in places)".  Could go either way.  Could go both ways at the same time.

We had a Kempton meeting around three weeks ago at which the ground was 'good' and there were tiny fields because the ground apparently was not good enough.  And I noted a non-runner earlier in the autumn (I think that it was at Exeter) when a horse was taken out because of the change in the ground, the going having been changed after the first race from 'good to soft' to 'good to soft, good in places'.  I was further scratching my head the other day when there was a stable-tour on the TV and the trainer was asked about a certain horse, "Do you think he needs decent ground?".  Under the circumstances, it was impossible to know what was actually being asked.  I can't remember the answer, but that was probably fairly Delphian too.

You might wonder where I'm going with this.  The thing is that I've become intrigued by this idea that horses can only race on a very slender part of the going spectrum.  (I'm not sure that that sentence makes sense, but I hope that you can work out what I mean).  This never used to be axiomatic.  Far from it, in fact.  And I don't know why this idea has become so strongly lodged in everyone's minds.  (And I'm not casting aspersions on anyone because I'm probably as guilty as anyone in this respect because I am aware that in general I am over-protective with horses and usually err on the side of caution).

Anyway, a few weeks ago I happened to be leafing though an old Timeform National Hunt annual from the mid-'70s when doing some research on an unrelated subject.  Two photographs caught my eye.  One was of three horses jumping the final flight of hurdles in a selling hurdle at Folkestone.  One of them was Hit Parade (who didn't win the race, which was won by Oh Brother, trained by Giles Beeson at Lewes) whose place in history is secure because he was Martin Pipe's first winner.  The other was the Susan Chesmore-trained Stay-Bell winning a race under Maurice Barnes.  Anyway, while poring over these two photographs, I started reading the comments on the horses featured on these two double-page spreads.  Effectively, these two double-page spreads were picked at random, and they make startling reading from the point of view of the topic which I'm discussing.

I wrote about this in my column in Al Adiyat, the UAE weekly racing magazine, three or four weeks ago, and I'll reproduce what I wrote.  Nothing could better illustrate the change in mindset which has come in in a fairly short period.  This is only the 1970s we're talking about, not the 1870s.  Anyway, here is an extract from the article:-

"One doesn’t have to go back too far in time to find that it hasn’t always been like this.  Earlier this autumn I stumbled upon an end-of-season Timeform comment for one of Fred Rimell’s good horses (it might have been Another Dolly, but I can’t remember for certain) which included a sentence along the lines of, ‘Ran well all season although was disappointing on hard ground on his seasonal reappearance’.  On hard ground!  By modern standards, that’s unthinkable.  (In fact, nowadays the trainers don’t have to worry about whether to run on such a surface, as the racing is abandoned anyway).

"Fred Rimell was an archetypal old-school steeplechase trainer ... And it was not that Fred Rimell stood alone as a trainer happy to run his horses on ground a lot faster than good (or even merely slightly faster than good to soft).  While perusing Timeform’s Chasers & Hurdlers 1975/’76 annual last week for an unrelated reason, I chanced upon one double-page spread which contained the following examples:-

"Station Master, trained by Stan Mellor: “… has won on firm going, but seems better with some give in the ground”.  Stay-Bell, trained by Susan Chesmore, whose five wins during the season came on firm (three times), good to firm and good to soft: “… acts on any going”.  Steamer, trained by Peter Bevan: “… acts on hard going and is not at his best in the mud”.  Steves Pigeon, trained by J. Rawlings: “… acts on any going but is suited by firm”.  Stiphado, trained by Fulke Walwyn, who raced that season on ground varying from soft to hard: “… acts on firm going”.  Stone Thrower, trained by Richard Head, whose first and last races of the season were both on firm ground: “… acts on any going”.  

"On another double-page spread, we have:-

"Ocean Voyage, trained by Tony Dickinson: “… probably acts on any going”.  Off The Cuff, trained by Wilfred Crawford, whose two wins that season both came on good ground: “… acts on hard going”.  Oh Brother, trained by Giles Beeson: “… appears to act on any ground”.  Old Chad, trained by Jack Hardy, who won on good to soft that season as well as being placed three times on firm ground and also on soft ground: “… probably acts on any ground”.  Old Man Dimplex, trained by Fred Winter, whose win came on good to firm that season and whose minor placings came on ground varying from soft to firm: “… acts on any going, but is suited by some give in the ground”.  Old Policy, trained by Ian Jordan: “… acts on a firm and an easy surface”.  Old Stephen, trained by Arthur Stephenson, who recorded five wins that season on firm ground and one on soft: “… acts on any going”.

"Another era, isn’t it?  You’d think that that was a couple of centuries ago, but it’s only the 1970s.  What would the likes of Fulke Walwyn, Fred Winter, Fred Rimell, Arthur Stephenson, Tony Dickinson, Stan Mellor and Richard Head (all great old-school National Hunt trainers by any standards) make of today’s seeming axioms?  And as for ‘getting the horses on the grass’ (the supposed difficulties of which we've been hearing so much about over the past few months) at home?  Well, they wouldn’t have had any option but to do so as all-weather gallops didn’t exist in those days!"

Picking up nicely

Continuing the return to full strength.  (Written on Sunday evening, but not posted until Tuesday late morning, by which time I'm stronger still - I don't know why it failed to load on Sunday).  I'm at that stage where I'm frustrated that I'm not already fully better.  I think I'm doing well, but by the time I've done not very much I feel exhausted.  But all's good.  I've had a nice quiet weekend: hardly got rained on at all, didn't get too cold (and even enjoyed some sunshine, as these photographs prove) and didn't have to do too much.  The first half of December is a very good time for me to be ill, if there is such a thing as a good time, as we're quiet in the stable and everyone is here.  Later in the month people are on holiday and so I'm flat out, and when they return we're all flat out as we're bringing horses back into work.  But at present nobody is under pressure, even with me not doing much.

I didn't ride at all on Wednesday or Thursday.  On Friday I rode one (Solitary Sister).  Ditto Saturday, and I took Roy to the lunge ring on the Heath.  Today I rode Solitary Sister and Heaven Up Here.  And I'll do a bit more again tomorrow.  It's been very good as I've got a lot of writing and admin done as I've been spending less time outdoors than usual.  If things go to plan, we'll have two trips to the races this week (Sacred Sprite at Lingfield on Wednesday, Solitary Sister and Heaven Up Here to Chelmsford on Thursday) and I'm anticipating finding those easy enough.  And I'm looking forward to them - none of those three horses have run for this stable previously, so it'll be interesting to see how they fare.

It would be unrealistic to hold high expectations for any of them, but if we get three runs each showing a modicum of promise that would be good.  Very good, in fact.  (That, of course, is not guaranteed to happen).  Sacred Sprite has never raced, and I never expect much on a horse's debut.  The other two have raced previously (Solitary Sister for Richard Spencer, Heaven Up Here for Ed Vaughan) but not for a long time.  In Solitary Sister's case it's something like 14 months since she last ran.  And neither bears particularly inspiring form from when they did race.  But it'll be good to get them going, and we'll hope for the best.  Picks you up nicely when you've got something to look forward to.

Overwhelmed

Roy was the winner of the EBN Flat Special Achievement Award at the Racehorse Owners' Association awards-dinner last night.  I'm overwhelmed.  And I'm not saying that lightly: I am overwhelmed.  I was overwhelmed enough that he featured in a line of truly heroic nominees.  I don't have the full list to hand, but it included a Classic winner who represents the best of owners (Billesdon Brook), a Group One winner at Royal Ascot who is a whole story of family heroism and history in himself (Accidental Agent) and Burnt Sugar, who reappeared after a lengthy spell in the wilderness to enjoy a magnificent campaign in the big handicaps.  And Roy won.  Overwhelming.

The only shame was that I wasn't there.  Happily, Roy had plenty of representation: Larry and Iris McCarthy were there, and so was Emma.  I just couldn't have risked going as I'm worn out and I need to take things easy, to make sure that I keep warm and get plenty of sleep, until I'm back to normal.  The two days at the races at the end of the last week started the process of finishing me off, and I just got more worn out over the next few days.  I know that we keep saying that the extensive nature of the fixture list puts the workforce under huge stress, but I suspect that most people think that we're just being difficult.  Admittedly we had a double whammy last week, and that doesn't happen often, but it was a killer.

The double whammy in this case was being in the late race at a late evening meeting and in the first race in an early afternoon meeting the next day: 8.15 at Chelmsford on Thursday and 12.10 at Newbury on Friday.  That means that you don't get much sleep in between times, because obviously there's quite a lot of work to do when one gets home, and then a lot to do before we leave in the morning.  And the roads are just so bad nowadays that that makes things much more stressful than they need to be.  My view is that mobile phones (and satnavs) are to blame as all too many motorists have their attention fixed on anything but the road in front of them, and people keep driving into each other.  And not just amateurs either: professional lorry drivers too.  And for some reason it seems to take hours to get the road clear again.

But this year has been far, far worse than any other year I've known.  We went up to Catterick twice in the autumn.  Both times the A1 was shut - not narrowed but shut - and traditionally I'd be disappointed to get a significant blockage on the A1 twice a year, never mind twice in two trips.  The M11 was blocked on the way to Chelmsford.  The M11, one of the most straightforward roads ins the country, blocked.  Unbelievable.  The M25 near the bottom of the M40 was down from four lanes to one on the way to Newbury.  That added an hour to the journey just in that one queue - and then we were coming home on a Friday afternoon/evening.  Four hours each way, and it's only 120 miles, and motorway nearly all the way.

I'd actually begun to fear that we wouldn't be able to run The Rocket Park (we were fine at Chelmsford as I knew about the blockage so went along some tortuous country roads in the dark - even in retrospect, I couldn't tell you where we went - but there were some non-runners because of the traffic) but we got moving eventually and arrived one and a half hours before the race.  There was a very, very sweet and happy post-script, though.  I dropped off the box which we hire on racedays after we had got home from Newbury.  It wasn't late, maybe 9.00.  Graham Morgan, a lovely man who lives on the property where the boxes live, came out to have a chat.  The next morning, Sarah Buckey, who organises the boxes, rang me rather bashfully, saying:

"Nothing important, but Graham asked me if I'd spoken to you.  When I said that I hadn't as I only got back at 11.00 o'clock last night and have been flat out this morning, he said that you didn't seem yourself when you got home, and asked me to give you a ring to check you're OK."  It was so very, very kind on the part of both of them.  It nearly made me cry.  Anyway, I assured her that all was good, but that I had just been very tired after a late night followed by an early morning and I'd found both drives very stressful with the very bad traffic conditions putting us under pressure for time. (And I felt very awkward saying that because Sarah works unbelievably long hours and does a hell of a lot more box-driving than I do, and I was aware that I was sounding rather pathetic).

Anyway, I had a lot on over the weekend and in the first half of this week, and by Wednesday I was totally shattered.  I went to sleep at 6.30 on Wednesday evening and had eleven hours' sleep and I hoped that that would put me right to go to London on Thursday evening, but I was as listless on Thursday as I had been on Wednesday.  I've learnt from past mistakes that when one starts to feel under the weather, the only sensible option is to do as little as is feasible, try to keep warm, force oneself to eat something - and sleep, sleep, sleep.  And keep on this schedule until one's back to normal.  I'm feeling a bit better today, but if I'd had very little sleep last night instead of a lot, I know that I'd be feeling a hell of a lot worse rather than better.  Notwithstanding that Roy's honour inevitably puts a huge smile on the face.  Overall, though, overwhelmed sums it up perfectly.  Overwhelmed, honoured and very proud.  And just a little tearful.