The rhythms of racing

This is a big thing at the moment. Flat racing is suffering badly as a sport, not least because people aren't betting on it. The powers that be have decided that the reason for this is that it lacks a "narrative" in the way, say, a football season does.

But flat racing's problems have little to do with narrative. I'd say the problems lie more with:
a) far too many races, at least 5 meetings a day in summer, full of mediocre horses running in tight little handicaps, so that no-one can sensibly keep on top of all the form, and so stops bothering.
b) the old problem that the horses are sent off to stud too early, so that punters can't grow attached to them, unlike jumps racing.
c) persistent over-watering by clerks of courses, presumably done on purpose and to order, to make form entirely untrustworthy.
d) the on-going fall-out of having some of the most senior jockeys bent as two-bob notes.

In fact the "narrative" of flat racing is very strong once you get to know it. I certainly measure out my days by it, in the same way I measure out the winter months (which I've written about before).

The Lincoln to kick us off in March; Guineas trials; the mixed meeting at Sandown to hand jumps racing over to flat racing; the Guineas; the Derby/Oaks trials meetings - Epsom, Lingfield, Sandown, Newbury, Goodwood; the Derby/Oaks/Coronation Cup; then into June for Royal Ascot; then 3 year olds start meeting the older horses with the Eclipse at Sandown, and the King George at Ascot; onto Glorious Goodwood at the end of July; and York's Ebor meeting in August; a holiday lull before the last Classic, the St Leger; Ayr; and then October's curtain-closers The Cambridgeshire, Champion Stakes, and Cesarewitch.

And that's just top races in this country. Intertwine with the Irish and French classics, and the Breeders Cup and there's a "story" every week. This week sees the autumn equinox of the season with the Cambridgeshire and the Arc, segueing slowly over the coming weeks from the end of the flat to the beginning of the jumps. For most of our adult lives it's signalled the time Anne and I have gone on our annual holidays (also April - after the Grand National, before the Guineas).

Given that these racing seasons also match the real seasons, you have an even greater sense of the year's rhythms, (which, in doing these "in praise ofs", I've realised are very important to me).

It also means we've always been on holiday "out of season". We either arrive at places before they've opened for the summer - "oh, this place is dead before Memorial day", or after they've closed - "oh no, not since Labor day." But that too, has its charms...


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