The first race on the Wednesday of the Cheltenham Festival (I had been otherwise engaged on the Tuesday) was the National Hunt Chase, with 20 runners ridden by amateur riders. This was likely to be the perfect example of the current starting system at its worst when dealing with a large field. As I have long been a critic of the system (see Sport 16), I was looking forward to a scene of carnage and disaster.

I noticed that in the off-track “holding area” the horses were  circling round the inspection fence, which provided them with a defined circuit, and they were walking, which surprised me. The modern way is to jam a big field up together in several tightly-packed ranks and to get them jogging round until the time comes to return to the course, when the jogging mass is expected to remain in formation and to start galloping when the starter lets them go. But this time something different was taking place. Still walking, the field negotiated the “slip road” back on to the track, sorted themselves out at the walk/jog as they calmly approached the tapes, and set off in good order when the starter released them.

It was delightful, and I was sick as a parrot, because it seemed as though the authorities had, unbeknownst to me, learned how to start a 20-runner field, and were going to spend the rest of the week rubbing my nose in the rubbish which I have been spouting for several years.

That’s what should have happened, but it didn’t, and I was greatly relieved.  From that moment on, normal service was resumed. In the “holding area” before each race  with an extra large field the horses were formed up in tight-packed ranks and encouraged to trot round and round in ever–decreasing circles (a most dangerous practice – overcrowded horses quite often kick, you know), and were then directed by the starting team on to the track in a state of extreme over-excitement.

Seven false starts later (or was it eight? Plus a few other quite serious starting hiccups), the writing was on the wall: the existing system, when applied to large fields, is as unacceptable as I have always thought, for several reasons which have long been obvious.

First, the BHA’s first priority for starting is “to ensure that races start on time.” Timing should be no higher than third on the list of priorities, behind the requirement that starts should be “fair” and “safe.” Let it not be forgotten that seven (or was it eight?) false starts do not suggest that the Cheltenham time-keeping could have been anything to write home about. In addition, bear in mind that there is nothing necessarily slow about “fair” and “safe”  starts.

Second, every jumper in training knows how to walk round in an anticlockwise circle in a state of perfect calmness. He does it twice a day, six days a week: first, after being mounted for morning exercise; second, on the gallops, while the trainer gives his instructions.  Every jumper in the land is accustomed to this routine and is at his/her most biddable when taking part in it. Logically, therefore, walking should be the normal gait at a potentially explosive juncture like the start. Conversely, every horse in training becomes worried and intractable when jammed up amid a multitude of others, all jig-jogging in those ever-decreasing circles. Clearly whoever devised the present system was unacquainted with the animals for which he was legislating.

Thirdly, one can only sympathise with the jockeys in this situation. They are aware that they are going to return to the track in line astern, rank after rank after rank, a formation which benefits those in front and penalises those in the rear. So contagious apprehension is rife – understandably. The authorities claim that the jockeys are where they choose to be in the frantic column. I have no doubt that this is far from being the truth.

Fourthly, at many tracks the path between “holding area” and track is convoluted and dangerous. In this respect I have nothing but praise for the Cheltenham management. In almost all cases the links between “holding areas” and track were like slip roads onto a motorway: smooth, straight, no sharp turns, plenty of room to manoeuvre. However this standard is by no means universal. At Sandown on the Saturday before Cheltenham, a 24-runner field for the prestigious Imperial Cup flattened twenty yards of plastic fencing while attempting to negotiate a right-angle turn onto the racing surface – for the second year running!  

Add that incident to the seven (or was it eight?) false starts at Cheltenham, and one is entitled to wonder how many more disasters have to occur before the penny drops that something is basically wrong with the system. 

Andrew Simpson

18^th March 2012