RACING.

The retro- and introspection with which some indulge themselves during

the dead winter season for flat-racing must leave in the minds of such

feelings of uneasiness. One had but to read the sporting papers very

deeply to realise that racing was not being indulged in in the typical

spirit of give and take; and when we found staring us in the face the

advertisement of the Racehorse Owners’ Association, instituted for the

protection of owners’ interests, one realised clearly enough that

grievances were felt to exist. Possibly in due course the particular

grievances which the covenanting owners desire to see redressed will be

set forth, for of course the trouble was not taken to found the

Association without some ostensible reason. In the meantime, the Jockey

Club has declined to take official cognisance of the Association. So far

as we have gone, the state of affairs seems to be that certain owners

have formed themselves into an association, and have applied to the

Jockey Club for official recognition. In effect the Jockey Club asks the

Association, “Who are you?” Having so long ruled supreme and

unchallenged, the Jockey Club no doubt feels it a little abrupt when a

body formed outside itself suddenly appears, and practically suggests

that it shall have a word or two to say in the government of the Turf.

If it is not to have some sort of say, then there seems to be no reason

for its advances towards the Jockey Club, or for its existence even.

Enough has been said in print during the past twelve months to make the

Jockey Club aware that the advance is not being made in a too friendly

spirit towards them; therefore they practically reply, “Thank you, we

can get on very well alone, and without your assistance, as heretofore.”

It does not follow that an association of racehorse owners cannot exist

and do good work without any reference whatever to the Jockey Club.

Leaving outside the government of racing as conducted by the Jockey

Club, there is plenty of room for the operations of such an association.

Combination between owners has been sadly wanting. Now that there is

some sign of it, one would like to see the body establish a right to its

existence by the carrying out of measures of benefit to the owners and,

by consequence, to racing as a whole. To the outsider it seems a little

premature for a body, before it has won its spurs, so to speak, to

aspire to deal on equal terms with the ruling powers. There are several

matters connected with the practice of racing with which progressive or

reforming owners might profitably interest themselves in conclave.

Before a body can hope to be regarded as a negotiable quantity it must

show some capacity for self-government and for dealing with questions of

a kind that come naturally within its scope. Owners, as a whole,

complain that their interests are not sufficiently considered. The

complaint is not here refuted, but so far there has been lacking that

combination of action which alone can effect changes. It is not too much

to say that an association of owners can bring about that which it is

beyond the powers of the Jockey Club to effect, because outside their

scope. The Jockey Club can only be administrative; and already it has

been accused of going too deeply into minutiæ. Those details which

concern the owners should be settled by the owners themselves. It does

not seem necessary for them to approach the Jockey Club at all in order

to make their presence and power felt. They have but to agree amongst

themselves how to act and how not to act under certain conditions, and

the rest will come. One can speak in this way so long as one is in the

dark concerning the aspirations and intentions of the new body, which

has yet to issue its propaganda. When details appear it will be possible

to discuss them. For the present, therefore, we must wait in patience.

Amongst the most important matters which a body of owners coming

together for the protection of its interests can take in hand is the

jockey question. Despite all that has been done the jockey is still the

master of the situation; and this is bad for racing. A position in which

the jockey dictates the terms is an intolerable one, but that is the

position in which the Turf finds itself. It is not a new state of things

by any means. The “It’s no use asking me what will win; go and ask that

long-legged devil,” of Matt. Dawson could be paraphrased to-day, though

the question of dishonesty is not being trenched upon here. What owners

have to consider is, whether the relative positions existing between

owner and jockey are those of master and man, and whether the reward

given the jockey is not altogether out of disproportion to the service

rendered. The enormous issues that are at times at stake, and the fatal

power for good or evil that is given into the hands of the jockey, as

forming the last link in a chain every other link of which has been

forged with scrupulous care and disregard of cost, are what give the

jockey his advantage. And this advantage he will always hold so long as

he is allowed to feel his power, and not made to understand that there

is a master mind over him. If the hard truth has to be told, the master

mind is what is lacking. By slow stages at first and then rapid ones, we

have passed from the times when the jockey stood humbly upon the mat

awaiting the pleasure of his lordship, to a day when it is the owner who

metaphorically stands upon the mat. To put the matter in a few words,

the jockey is enabled to make an income that is not only far too large

to be good for him, especially when we consider the lowly station from

which he usually springs, but, in addition, is immeasurably in excess of

his deserts. Clearing ourselves of the glamour of custom, it must appear

plain that it is a ridiculous thing to give a jockey, say, £500 for

winning a race, even be it the Derby. How can a jockey ride worth £500?

Only on the supposition that if he is not able to anticipate some such

guerdon of victory he will not put in his best work and so possibly lose

the race; in which case he will be a dishonest jockey and should be

dealt with in a totally different manner. The writer does not hesitate

to put it on paper that there is no reason why a jockey should be paid

more for winning the Derby than for winning any other race, for the

simple reason that it is just as easy to win; and we do not have to go

back many years to find a jockey who rode an indifferent race, but won

through the merit of his horse, rewarded in a manner that would have

been extravagant had he performed some prodigy of horsemanship and

snatched the race out of the fire by its means. The thing is so

glaringly disproportionate, that one is driven to assume that the giving

of large presents to jockeys for winning certain races is done out of

deference to a custom, the courage to disregard which is lacking. So

much is the thing overdone, that one almost comes to applaud instances

in which an entirely diametrical course has been pursued, in which the

suggestion of parsimony in the case of meritorious riding has been

braved.

Even when we take the purely commercial side of racing, in which the

sole object is to bring off a betting coup, we see no reason why the

jockey should be made a party to the pecuniary gains. It is, of course,

the common custom to make him a party by putting him on so much to win.

But why? Surely, looked at dispassionately, five guineas is a very nice

reward for riding a race. The question of trying or not trying is, of

course, quite outside the question. The jockey who does not try when he

is being paid to do so is a thief, pure and simple. Consequently, when a

jockey is being bribed by promise of extra reward to try, he is merely

being educated to be a thief. Why should one be compelled to say, as one

practically is, “If you win I will give you so and so?” The assumption

should always be that when a jockey mounts a horse he will do his utmost

to win: whatever the practice may be, this is the only tenable theory.

But we may set aside the proposition of trying and not trying, and come

to the position of a jockey not riding at all except at a certain fee.

This position is one which the owners themselves only can deal with, and

here, I fancy, the Racehorse Owners’ Association, if ever they come to

consider the question, will meet a serious stumbling block. The strength

of those owners, racing chiefly for sport, whom, purely for the sake of

convenience, I will call the Jockey Club circle, is that they do not

meet in fevered competition for the services of jockeys. Here we find

the distance between master and man kept as wide as it should be, and as

it was in the past. The two parties concerned do not meet on the same

plane as is the case when mere money is at issue and the end is

considered justified by any kind of means. For the state of things at

which we have arrived owners must be considered solely to blame, for

they have the remedy in their own hands. No fault can reasonably be

found with the jockeys for making what hay they can whilst the sun

shines. Owners are not unjustifiably complaining of the heavy expenses

of racing. Is not the heavy expense of jockeys an item worthy of

consideration?

In this matter of over-paying jockeys it seems as though the trainer is

not being treated with justice. If, for the sake of argument, it be

right and proper for the rider of a Derby winner to receive a present of

£500, how much, in the name of equity, should the trainer not receive?

He spends anxious months, even years, with animals of enormous value

under his charge, which must be kept well and brought to the post

trained to the hour. Upon the successful exploitation of the horses

entrusted to his charge he has to bring several qualities to bear; and

if outsiders are apt to think £2 10s. per week a considerable sum to pay

for the charge of a selling “plater,” it becomes insignificant enough in

the case of a possible Derby winner, even if the charge be as high as

three guineas. The owner has yet to be met with who says to his trainer:

“You have a Derby horse of mine. If he wins I shall pay you £10 per week

for his training instead of £2 10s.” But this would not be out of

keeping with the presentation of several hundreds of pounds to a jockey

for riding a single race. The trainer, of course, takes his chance, but

so should the jockey, and it is not at all creditable that he should be

made the spoiled child of the Turf that he is. The statement that

jockeys make more money than anyone else is scarcely to be contradicted,

and such a state of things is entirely wrong. So far from the jockey of

to-day doing more work for his money, the contrary is the case, as those

in the habit of watching morning gallops can testify. It is a difficult

thing now to get a jockey who has reached the stage of “fancying

himself” to trouble himself about morning gallops. So much, at least,

English jockeys have condescended to learn from the Americans.

The National Hunt is still active in its endeavours to devise a

satisfactory hurdle, but its latest effort has by no means met with

general approval. The Clerk of the Course at Hurst Park received

instructions from the Committee to supply a hurdle, the foot of which

was to measure 16 in from the bottom rail and be wholly inserted in the

ground. It was to be put in at an angle so as to slope the hurdle, the

common method adopted by the farm labourers who usually undertake such

work being to ram the hurdle in straight and then force it over to the

required slope. This is an abundant cause of the swinging-back hurdle

that is so dangerous. So far so good; but the Committee provided further

that the hurdles were to be bushed in the middle part only, the bottom

and top rails standing out clear. It was of course the top rail that

mattered, for horses accustomed to bushed tops might easily fail to see

it. The innovation came in for severe criticism at the hands of

trainers, some horses being sent home without competing. The very

reasonable objection was made that it is scarcely fair to horses to

spring a surprise of this sort upon them. It is one thing to school a

horse carefully at a new kind of obstacle, and quite another to ask him

to race over it. A further item of complaint, with which, however the

National Hunt had nothing to do, was against the too solid nature of the

end uprights of the hurdles, two coming together, making quite a

formidable obstruction that suggested risk to life and limb.