Racing 1.

Just before the 2000 Guineas I was interested to hear a C4 voice saying: “There is no parade. The horses go down to the start one by one, passing the stands on their way. This is to avoid getting them stewed up by the preliminaries.” It’s ironic that in jump racing, whenever a big field is involved, the authorities go out of their way to upset the runners by procedures that clearly produce that result. They are alerted to this situation and take no notice.

Then a miracle occurs. The Grand National, the most difficult start of the year, is exempt from the troublesome procedures, and a perfect start is the result. Does the penny drop? It does not. A fortnight later, before the Scottish Grand National, the “rev ’em up and whizz ’em round” routine is back in all its ugliness and the start seriously malfunctions.

It is quite amazing that the BHA allows this state of affairs to continue.

Racing 2.

Ahern. A ten-year ban seems very harsh. I have heard him described as very stupid, but not as a double-dyed villain, which is what such a ban would suggest.

If the rules now demand such draconian penalties, it would be interesting to know how the current disciplinary structure was created, and by whom. I seem to remember that not so long ago the BHA came up with a package of whip rules which were a) draconian, and b) in need of wholesale changes to make them viable. And they were changed. If they hadn’t been, Monsieur Soumillon would now be sharing a cell at 75 High Holborn  with Richard Hughes. Could this be more of the same?

I have a feeling that when criminal elements invade racing and attempt to corrupt it, they should be shown no mercy. But when a member of the racing community strays from the straight and narrow, it seems reasonable for the authorities to show some interest in helping the miscreant back on to the rails.

If there is indeed an element of uncertainty as to the relationship between crime and punishment in this area of racing’s disciplinary arrangements, might it not be prudent for the authorities to resort to the advantages of “suspended sentences” or partly suspended sentences.

What advantages? For the authorities the advantage would be the opportunity to put things right, if, on reflection, a penalty seemed excessive. For the miscreant, the advantage would be time to reconsider his determination to destroy himself.

RSPCA.

A good friend drew my attention to an article on the RSPCA by Guy Adams, published in the Daily Mail on Jan 12^th 2013. In it he mentioned that the membership of the society had dropped in recent years from approximately 35,000 to approximately 25,000, and that the Charities Commission had declared it the third most “complained about” institution on their books, behind Jehovah’s Witnesses and a trust devoted to faith healers.

RSPCA chief executive Gavin Grant, as has been well-publicised, laid out £326,000 on prosecuting the Heythrop Hunt, an extravagance which incurred the disapproval of one judge, several MPs and the Charities Commission.

Grant is clearly out to make a name for himself, and is the last person that the Racing authorities should be treating with respect. Remember Hitler. In the nineteen twenties the authorities had the chance to rehabilitate that mentally unstable ex-soldier, and, who knows, he might have become a model citizen, fond of painting, although without much talent. But they failed to grasp the nettle. Later on, when he became a menace, they made the big mistake of treating him with respect – it was called appeasement and led to no end of trouble. Let that be a lesson for everybody, including the BHA.

C4

In my youth, if life was made intolerable by the braying of two donkeys in a nearby meadow, and if you had more than your share of spending money, you hired a “voice coach” to teach them  to whisper, warble, murmur, hum, and yodel – all the little tricks that make conversation a pleasure for all concerned. They could then go on to study a variety of more penetrating articulations, all the way up the scale that culminates (on rare occasions of dramatic intensity) in your full-blooded bray.

That was then. Nowadays, we have the benefit of the microphone, and clearly excessive (and/or offensive) decibels need have no place in our society. I’ll name no names, but simply point out that a couple of C4’s team could do with a little less “boom, boom, boom!” They are talking to us in tones they would never use among friends. So – are we their enemies? Rishi Persad is a fine example of a presenter who knows how to use a voice and a microphone.

I mention this because I understand that C4 Racing is perhaps not performing as well as it might. Nothing can be done about the main reason for this – the absence of John Francome. He was the heart and soul of the team, so the team is now heartless and soul-less.

All the more reason for making the best of what’s available.

Clare Balding

deserves great praise for her TV programme “A Passion for Horses”, a study of Her Majesty’s favourite hobby.

Throughout her life the Queen has seldom emerged from behind the conventional mask which is perhaps the result of an endless round of royal duties. Some (including myself) have even wondered whether the mask was all she had to offer.

Clare’s film kicks that error right off the playing surface. The Queen as horsewoman, in among her horses and the people who share her passion, reveals exactly what she is made of: she is deeply involved and extremely knowledgeable. She is also charming, serene, fearless and completely relaxed.

When she was younger the excitement of a close finish found her bouncing up and down the Royal Box with the best of them. Less bounce nowadays, perhaps, but she reveals a rapport with her horses which is a rare gift (or a rare acquirement, or a bit of both).There is something very special, I suggest, about the way she extends a friendly hand, which turns into a caress or a pat or a set of knuckles to sniff. It is a most courteous greeting and the horses seem to respond in the same spirit. Home movies (or early news films) show her doing it when she was a very young child greeting her first pony. Three quarters of a century later, the same gesture, the same positive response.

If I were to pick one sequence which will stay with me it was the Newbury race.  First, the conversation between Clare and jockey Hayley Turner (in those sumptuous Royal colours) before the race; second, the race itself with sound effects of varying intensity provided by Clare as the royal runner seemed to have no chance, then suddenly emerged from among the stragglers and achieved victory by the minimum distance in the last three strides;  and thirdly the presentation of a trophy to the owner and a memento to her jockey. There they stood, side by side, delighted owner of a certain maturity, delighted jockey in the bloom of youth, animated, chatting, having fun. Memorable television.

Clare’s other film, about suffragette Emily Davison, was fascinating but sad. Emily Davison looked one straight in the face from out of those ancient photographs. Academically she was top class. She was bright, resourceful, fearless, and determined. All of which could not help but remind the viewer of the glorious life she should have had, and the great things she might have achieved, if she had been born under a more generous star. Oh dear!

Music

Did you know that the first four notes of “Flower of Scotland” are identical with the first four notes of the “Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves”, a much-loved item in Nabucco by Verdi.  This little known fact is a useful lull-in-the-conversation-filler.  Especially if you can hum.

You Go “Tumty Tum Tee…” as in Flower of S, and then you astound the company by proceeding thus (lentissimo e fortissimo): “Tee – Ta – Ti – Tiddely – Pooh!” which of course is pure Verdi. With a bit of practice you can keep the thing going, flitting back and forth between Tuscany and the Trossachs.

All best wishes,

Cyberdonec.