BHA stewarding plan looks a real winner to me

Early hysterical reaction was wide of the mark and keeping an amateur will prove invaluable

The British Horseracing Authority unveiled its new structure for policing race days last week, which is a blueprint for the future of stewarding. Uproar had preceded its consultation process when it was perceived that the new system would be a wholly professional line-up, casting the “honorary” amateur stewards to the dustbin.

But that fear has not come to pass, and an amateur will remain as the chair of the race day stewarding panel; but the chair will be joined by two professional stewards, one of whom will have overall control of the race-day and will be fully accountable when something goes wrong.

So often consultations are nothing more than a smokescreen to keep the noisy mob quiet. But on this occasion it was for real and, in spite of some fairly hysterical views being expressed, an excellent outcome has been reached.

One of the catalysts that triggered this overhaul was the occurrence of too many inconsistent rule interpretations, with nobody actually taking full responsibility for that variance.

No trainer or jockey wants to be subjected to an over-exuberant gaggle of Stasi officers marching around the racecourse, pouncing on whoever they happen to dislike and exercising their powers.

One only has to go racing in Australia to see what an unedifying spectacle jumped-up officials can make of themselves.

So the role of the amateur chair, reining in any professional who gets too much wind in the sail of their own self-importance, will be a vital component of the new stewarding panel.

These changes are not just about staying clear of embarrassing, avoidable human-error cock-ups on race days. The most dangerous threat to the stature and international credibility of our racing is corruption; and that is thriving right now on social media and the dark web.

Therefore an extra £330,000 per annum to beef up and modernise the security and sanctity of racing in this country is chicken feed in the grand scheme of things. The potential financial fallout that would be caused by a failure to move with the times and address this ever-increasing issue would dwarf that figure.

One of the cleverest racing tipsters in England reminded me last week how important a good start is to any race, no matter how long or short it may be – which is something my mentor, the great Fred Winter, used to drive into us again and again.

Giving away any ground at the start of a race is just plain stupid; why would you do it? To make up that lost ground requires wasteful use of energy, which will definitely tell at the business end of a race.

But it is a much more serious blunder than just poor use of “petrol”. Because a bad start probably means adopting an unfavourable tactical position in the race, which again will often result in defeat.

Then there is a lack of tempo and rhythm. Frequently one hears a jockey say: “The trainer just told me to go out and enjoy myself.”

That trainer did not mean go out and have a nice chat down at the start and fall asleep. He meant get the horse travelling at a nice, comfortable, even pace.

The importance of the start in Flat racing is obvious. Take Saxon Warrior, who was handed a hopeless draw in stall one in the Derby.

No horses win handicaps from that draw at Epsom over a mile and a half, let alone Classics.

If you watch the replay of the Derby, you can see that he would have needed to have a ton in hand to have overcome the tactical disadvantage he incurred from his slow start and bad draw.

The Breeders’ Cup also springs to mind. When the gates crash open there, the American horses are out like scalded cats, while time after time the European horses slop out and end up with a load of dirt being kicked in their faces.

My worst experience of a bad start was on a 10-1 on shot at Fontwell Park called Musso. He shied at the tapes as they went up and we got beaten after a properly bad start.

On returning to the unsaddling enclosure, I received a hard stare from Winter and a volley of vocabulary no longer considered appropriate for such occasions.

But there was blood pouring out of Musso’s nose, so I pointed out defensively: “He bled, guvnor.”

“What’s that got to ------- well do with anything?” he asked me.