RACING 1 

Here’s something that worries Donec a little bit:

Sir Mark Prescott regularly volunteers his prescription for making the whip rules work. He has long been held in awe by a bevy of racing journalists for the size of his brain and may possibly have taken to believing every word they write. Recently another trainer, Ralph Beckett, added his suggestions on the same subject to the public domain.

Would it not be prudent, before trying to make the existing rules work, to check whether they have anything of value to offer? Just because they are rules doesn’t mean they have merit.

Where do they come from?

The whip rules are the remnants of a concoction that was branded as “flawed” when it was unveiled in October 2011, and it very nearly brought the sport to a standstill. They were “moderated” thanks to the initiative of Paul Bittar, BHA’s CEO-in-waiting at that time. However there was no suggestion that this make-over was the complete answer to all the difficulties which the original 2011 edition had created.

The original working party spent the best part of a year preparing the 2011 rules. It consisted of eight members.

One was Dr Tim Morris, the BHA’s Animal Welfare officer, previously associated with animal welfare charities, and no longer employed by the BHA. Five others were more or less involved in the BHA’s disciplinary establishment. The other two had no affiliations which might suggest that their objectivity was questionable.

How many jockeys were involved? None.

Have the last four years provided any information about the influence of the patched-up 2011 rules? Much information, and the message is as follows: the proper and healthy use of the whip is constantly finding itself in conflict with rules that seem to have been designed to get the baton banned altogether (which was quite possibly the long-term ambition of six of those on the working party).

So, does this background encourage one to think that here we have rules worth saving, or does it suggest that a return to square one might be the better option?

In Donec’s opinion, the BHA working party made three vital mistakes.

It insisted on treating a horse-friendly whip as if it were a deadly weapon. When the whip was introduced it was described as “the most significant advance in whip design in the history of horseracing” (Sir Peter O’Sullevan), and as “the only truly acceptable aid for professional and leisure riders” (Nick Skelton). It has been adopted by virtually every racing authority in the world. The only negative vibes came from the BHA’s own working party, although the authority itself has from the beginning been (and continues to be) one of the new whip’s most enthusiastic supporters.

The working party’s second mistake was to insist that counting hits was a reliable guide to the whip’s abusive potential.

Finally it decided that it could save the jockeys from the fires of hell by establishing a punishment regime of unprecedented severity.

On all three points it was wrong, and the current implementation of the rules continues to be flawed. Why anyone should fancy trying to make sense out of such unsatisfactory material is difficult to imagine.

However, if sanity was allowed to prevail, sensible whip rules could be written very satisfactorily, if they were written by qualified and competent people.

 

RACING 2

Owing to a lamentable failure in concentration which lasted from 25^th September until October 9^th, Donec was unaware that the Americans had confirmed the demotion of Secret Gesture from first to third in the Group One Beverly D Stakes (a contest for 3-y-o and upwards, fillies and mares) at Arlington on August 15^th.

Very sad for the connections, but an example of fair rules properly administered. Easy winner Secret Gesture interfered with the horse that was certain to be second. As a result that horse finished third, which reduced her take-home pay by a hefty wad of notes. The American rule says that if A interferes with B, A is demoted to a place behind B. So that is what happened. They showed no interest in the British heresy (“We give preferential treatment to our idea of the best horses, even if they break the rules.”) Good for the Americans!

RUGBY WORLD CUP

Our rugby correspondent can get somewhat over-excited. He writes:

Off the field, the build-up was full of potential. The International Rugby Board has turned into WORLD RUGBY. It has Core Values: Integrity, Respect, Solidarity, Passion and Discipline. It has a Mission: Growing the Rugby Family. It has a Vision: Rugby, a Sport for All, True to its Values.

In anticipation, the pundits marvelled at the number of “caps” won by the All Blacks, the South Africans and the Australians. Most of the talk was of the miracles of skill and endurance we were about to witness, although some of us reminded others that none of these sides had shown vintage form in the build-up to the competition.

At the next level, there was a consensus that England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, France and Italy hadn’t been particularly impressive in the Six Nations in the spring or in the warm-up games before the World Cup itself.

Hence a most intriguing prospect: the possibility that the smaller rugby nations might be about to challenge the Old Masters.

The show started in the best possible way: Japan beat South Africa! A minnow savaged a shark, David zonked Goliath, the New Order was alive and kicking! Wow!

It didn’t last, however. The next time Japan appeared, they seemed to play the same well-disciplined and legitimate game as before, but they were apparently behaving very, very badly throughout, being constantly in trouble with the referee, and they were well beaten. At a certain point TV presenter Inverdale addressed his panel of experts with the words: “How interesting! In the first half, the Japanese were penalised more often (including a yellow card) than in the whole of their South African game.” His panel didn’t respond. I wondered why not. A yellow card, incidentally, means ten minutes in “the sin bin” for a player who has done something really naughty. Play goes on with his side one man short. Quite often it makes all the difference.

After that, when I watched a game of Minnows v Sharks, I noticed an imbalance in the penalty count, to the great disadvantage of the Minnows, followed by a yellow card for a Minnow for some illegal action – often an illegal action so sophisticated that even the panels of experts, aided by multiple TV replays, simply could not identify it. Usually early in the second half the losing side would give up the unequal struggle.

Such was the depth of my paranoia that I found myself insisting that this routine had happened three times, in three different games, and had made me ask serious questions about the meaning of life, and I said so quite loudly, and was roundly rebuked by all right-minded sportsmen who said, “How can you be so cynical?”

“Easily!” I replied.

Incidentally, not a word of criticism applies to the players themselves. The games were less than magnificent (more grind than glitter) and there were too many mistakes and the passing was largely lamentable, but the players played like tigers.

In due course the field was whittled down to two semi-finals, in the first of which the All Blacks just beat South Africa, and in the second Australia beat Argentina with some difficulty and with the help of seven points gleaned via what many experts described as a forward pass – which the ref decided to ignore. However, these four teams were the top four in the ratings when the competition began. So, one way or another, the Old Guard had survived.

The final was a revelation. For the old soldiers who had accumulated all those caps, many of whom were due to retire after this game, the prospect of one last hurrah was irresistible. They played out of their skins, and it was eighty minutes of heaven for the millions of viewers, including yours truly.

New Zealand won well (but not easily) and Australia played magnificently in defeat. In fact Australia was in the final by mistake – having been beaten fair and square by Scotland in the quarter finals. Beaten, and then awarded the game by an extraordinary refereeing error, which World Rugby admitted was a mistake the following day. This gave little comfort to the Scots.

For the record, South Africa beat Argentina in the game to decide third and fourth spots.

Actually the best performance of the whole competition was that of  Nigel Owens, the finest referee in the world by several miles.

BREEDERS’ CUP

On the Friday the racing and the rugby coincided. My recollections are so confused as to be worthless.

On the Saturday afternoon, the Rugby World Cup  final took precedence, and I only settled down to take in Keeneland at 6.10 p.m. when Stephanie’s Kitten (the mare which  was stopped in her tracks in the Beverly D), and her jockey, who was berated by Jamie Spenser for “diving” on that occasion, got compensation to the tune of  £705,128.21.

In the 6.50 a horse called Runhappy won £528,846.15, and arrangements for the horse to be removed from the trainer’s care were made the following day. The trainer is (was) a young lady called Maria Borell who has very few horses, but can obviously train extremely well. It is only fair to mention that across her back there is a a huge tattoo of a racehorse. I would have thought that what she keeps within the confines of her shoulder blades is her business and hers alone, but I thought you had a right to know about it.

The rest of the cast in this drama is led by the horse’s owner, James “Mattress Mac” McIngvale, a furniture tycoon with a tendency to give his racing affairs the occasional airing in the law courts. His racing manager is his sister-in-law, who has apparently run her hands down the legs of so many  horses that nobody can tell her anything she doesn’t know about whether a horse should be jig-jogged the morning after a race.

I hope that Miss Borell’s telephone rings very soon and a prince charming (or perhaps his rich dad) offers her a string of quality horses to train, and that she does so well that she ends up with only fond memories of “Mattress Mac.”

Supper break, followed by the 8.50, in which Golden Horn (Gosden/Dettori) was beaten by Found (O’Brien/Moore). This was perhaps not one of Dettori’s best efforts. The Racing Post’s full result says of Golden Horn that he “chased the leader 4 furlongs out”. Of Found it says “Headway over 3 furlongs out, stayed on well under pressure.” I think Frankie made his move too early. It seemed to me that he only had to cruise round that long bend into the final straight before pressing the button and his mount might have had that little bit extra in the tank when Found challenged. He was only beaten half a length. However, there may have been factors of which I know nothing, in which case I will be pleased to grovel.

The big Keeneland 2015 picture is full of beauty and joy: the owner of Golden Horn is a marvel, so is his horse, and his trainer and his jockey. The team achieved everything they set out to achieve, and they were absolutely ready to have a go at whatever challenges cropped up along the way (like subbing up thousands of pounds for late entry in the Derby – and the Arc? I can’t remember). And Frankie’s ride in the Arc entitles him to a place in the geometrical pantheon alongside Euclid and Archimedes. Those first four furlongs transcended mere racing. It was like watching the late, great Rudolf Nureyev. Horse or jockey? Both!

At 9.35 American Pharoah made his entrance and the tension was palpable. Was he on the slide or was he not? Soon after the field entered the back straight nothing could stay with him. As they went into the far turn one looked for a weakness in his work ethic or a surge on the part of the opposition – no weakness, no surge. A procession.

American Pharoah has much in common with Golden Horn. They both have brilliant owners, trainers and jockeys. Both sides always took the bold course of action when decisions had to be made. Was it all plain sailing? By no means. Golden Horn was beaten at York and here at Keeneland, the other horse faltered in the Travers. No sweat. No recriminations. The humans were always laughing, it seemed, and setbacks simply appeared to inspire them to look for the next mountain to climb. And the result: two marvellous horses have been impeccably bred, faultlessly campaigned, and now move on to the next stage in their careers, having given an enormous amount of pleasure and excitement to millions.

In three years’ time their progeny  will appear at the sales, then on the racecourse, and several million memory banks will be revisited with much delightful nostalgia. No wonder good racing is so addictive.

 

STOP PRESS

Donec’s Racing Correspondent reports:

God knows I hate to be a bore, but this is journalism from the front line and piping hot.

Noticing that there was a race at Exeter (4.20, 3^rd Nov.) in which there would be 19 runners, I placed myself in the viewing possie at 4.10 and switched on the TV. Thick fog lifted just as the machinery warmed up and there they were – one defector, 18 ran. Round and round (at the walk, to be fair) went the dreadful rolling maul, and in due course the flags went up and the field performed a right wheel onto the racing line and a left wheel to begin the approach to the starter. Got it, so far?

Then the voice of the commentator said, “and as the whole field reaches the racing surface, the horses spread out to make a line…”

Where that came from I do not know, but that is what he said, and by the time the field had advanced ten or twelve paces a seven-deep procession had transformed itself into a two-deep LINE! And that was how they set off – a perfectly good start.

The bad news is that this opportunity to spread out and create something that has more of the virtues of a level break is still a rarity. It has not been “rolled out” throughout the BHA’s field of influence.

[Here’s something Donec wrote in Sport 43 (End of March 2015):

It is arguable that the rolling maul is tolerable, if the final walk towards the tape is orchestrated to allow the field to spread out laterally to give more of the runners a chance to be competitive and to see the first obstacle. ] .

Would an extra ten horses have made any difference? Probably. The full horrors of the rolling maul only start to bite when fields gets bigger.

With 20-30 runners (they occur, you know, and often in prestige events), the “rolling maul” (the procession of horses in ranks) gets longer and longer. Eventually the penny is going to drop and someone will realise that having to give away varying amounts, up to 15 – 20 lengths, at the start must have a disadvantageous effect on the chances of winning for the horses so affected. It’s not rocket science.

The whole point of the more or less level break was to eliminate this unfairness, and it did so for 200 years.

The ability to close one’s eyes to such an obviously unsatisfactory  state of affairs is one of the distinguishing features of really dumb management.

Talking of humour (Were we? Actually I was just trying to change the subject), I have seldom laughed as much as during the saga of Clive, Mrs Clive and Cyrus in the Daily Telegraph’s “Alex” cartoon. Were it not for  that entertainment (recently enjoyed) I do believe that the management described above would have forced me to use bad language, and one cannot conduct a constructive debate if one is constantly calling people “perfect bloody idiots!”

Best wishes.

DONEC