Henderson’s hot prospects light up winter

It is time to reflect on the summer and look ahead to a pulsating phase of the calendar

If I had to pick my favourite time of the year, it would be this week. In fact, it might even be today; because, as a general-purpose racing fan, every sensory receptor in my body is kicking off right now. It’s a time for reflection after the classic generation have been fighting it out after a long, dry summer. It’s also a moment of anticipation as the threads of two-year-old form come together over the next few weeks; and this season’s two-year-olds are looking a very strong bunch.

And then there’s the expectation of the National Hunt season, which is creeping up on us; the first Cheltenham meeting is less than four weeks away.

Having looked at Nicky Henderson’s string the other day, I’ll only have one thing on my mind every Saturday morning through the winter; where are Nicky Henderson’s horses running?

No other sport weaves such an eclectic web of intrigue as racing; but that is a threat to the sport, as well as a strength. It’s hard, for example, for casual observers watching Champions Day at Ascot to give due credit to horses such as Saxon Warrior and Masar for their stunning performances in the 2000 Guineas and the Derby when there’s no sign of them this autumn.

Even if those horses were still fighting fit after a long season, the accessibility of foreign races means that the season-long narrative of the domestic programme has been all but washed away.

The best autumn races in Britain now have to compete with fixtures in Ireland, France, Australia and America for runners. And while the two-year-olds are likely to stay close to home, the three and four-year-olds are as flighty as scattering partridges in search of foreign prize money.

It’s easy to understand why middle-ranking horse owners, trainers and jockeys question why the top races, which are generally won by patrons with already deep pockets, get such a lion’s share of the prize-money pool. But if they did not, those races would be deserted by the best horses which can easily race abroad.

Most people take it for granted how respectful trainers and jockeys are of the officials who regulate their sport.

Even when a random decision goes the wrong way in the stewards’ room, horsemen tend not to shout their heads off, à la Serena Williams. But civilised behaviour can easily be eroded.

So the British Horseracing Authority should be congratulated for strengthening the structure of race-day stewards’ panels. Because what was worse than Williams’s atrocious behaviour was the manner in which the wretched umpire was thrown under a bus by the tennis authorities.

Some say the National Lottery and its associated scratch cards are a tax on the poor and the susceptible; disguised as a philanthropic venture by gifts to opera houses and ballet. But I’m sufficiently morally bankrupt to forgive such hypocrisy, if it were to support racing. On the basis that racing is already funded by its take from gambling, I have always hoped that the Grand National could become a once-a-year lottery game. Along the lines of “pick the first eight horses home in any order”.

But there’s a fundamental bump in the road. Lotteries have to be games of chance; not skill. And while regular gamblers would consider trying to pick the first eight home as “a complete lottery”, it isn’t. Because each horse, or ball in this context, has to have an equal chance. And a horse starting at 100-1 cannot be said to have the same chance as a 10-1 shot.

So it’s back to the drawing board on that front.