This was his first outing of the season, but he had shown considerable promise as a two-year-old, winning one race and placing in his other two runs before an injury had cut short his season. If things went well tonight, I had hopes of him competing in the prestigious Class 2 bet365 Handicap at the Newmarket July Festival.
As always, I had emailed the Balham syndicate owners with the details, and I knew from the replies that at least six of the twenty shareholders were planning to attend, some with their wives, husbands, or children.
All racecourses looked after the owners of the horses running in their races, affording them complimentary entry, a free meal, and subsidised drinks. Windsor was no exception, providing an excellent facility with balconies on each side overlooking both the parade ring and the track.
They appreciated, as we all did, that racing couldn’t continue without owners prepared to invest their money into bloodstock, and to pay the training, race-entry, and other fees. Up to eight owners’ badges were available for each horse declared to run, with further badges on offer for larger syndicates, although those had no free meal attached.
It was the job of one of my assistants to liaise with both the syndicates and the racecourses to ensure the maximum number of our members could make use of the badges on offer, and to ensure that everyone had their turn.
As usual, I had agreed to meet my syndicate members in the Owners and Trainers’ Restaurant before the first. I didn’t need to be here to supervise the preparations for the race — the trainer would do all that. My job, as always, was to be the Victrix PR front man. The members would expect me to be here to welcome them and to give them any inside information I might have about the horse.
Many of them liked to have a bet on their horses — mostly a small wager just for fun — and the size of the stake might be affected by my report on how the animal had been performing in its training and my evaluation of its chances.
The racing regulations clearly state that an owner is allowed to bet on their runner, or indeed on any other, but they are not allowed to ‘lay’ their own horse, that is, they are not allowed to take bets from others — in effect betting that their horse will lose — such as is now possible on the online betting exchanges like Betfair or BETDAQ.
Similarly, trainers can bet on any horse, even those in their care, but are not allowed to ‘lay’ their own, or instruct anyone else to do so on their behalf, or to receive any of the proceeds of any such bet.
There are also restrictions on anyone involved in any way with a horse contacting directly or indirectly with betting organisations, particularly against passing on insider information to bookmakers about the likely chances of their horse in any given race.
Overall, the racing authorities have a very peculiar love — hate relationship with bookmakers and the betting companies. While they recognise that gambling revenues are the lifeblood of the sport, and without legalised betting, horseracing as we know it would not exist, they are also aware that betting can invite corruption.
Their prime concern is to maintain probity and trust within the sport. Consequently, they have to weave a middle path, allowing owners and trainers to bet — but not jockeys — while attempting to maintain the integrity of the races.
Bookmakers and online betting companies also pour tens of millions of pounds into race sponsorship, not only to support the goose that lays their golden eggs but also as a form of advertising to the punters.
Balham was trained by Richie Mackenzie, a young up-and-coming trainer from Newmarket, whom I had spotted as a potential Victrix trainer as soon as he had acquired his licence, and it had been a fruitful choice. He now had five Victrix horses in his ever-expanding string, and he was building a new stable block at home to house yet more.
As with my other trainers, I had spoken to Richie this morning. He had also agreed to meet me in the Owners and Trainers’ Restaurant, forty minutes before the first race, but he was there ahead of me, chatting to the syndicate members.
One of the side benefits of syndicate membership were the stable visits I regularly arranged for members to visit their horses at home and to watch them at exercise on the gallops. Trainers were usually very good at accommodating members, and feeding them with bacon rolls, and there had been a stable visit to Richie’s yard only a couple of weeks ago, so some of them were already well acquainted.
‘So, Richie,’ I said after all introductions were complete, ‘does Balham have a good chance this evening?’
‘I would say so,’ he replied. ‘He’s been working well at home. But he’s been off a racecourse since last August because of the injury to his hock. That’s all cleared up now, but he might still be a bit race rusty. On the plus side, his handicap rating is generous, and I’d say that he is definitely worth an each-way bet.’
An each-way bet was not only a bet for the horse to win but also one to place, that is for it to finish in the first three. The place bet may not win you much, but it might cover your loss of stake on the win bet, that’s if he came in second or third.
There were murmurs of approval from the syndicate members.
‘Do we have any idea what his starting price will be?’ asked Derek Berkeley, one of my most long-standing members.
‘I expect him to start at about six-to-one, maybe thirteen-to-two if we’re lucky,’ Richie said. ‘Kennedy Curse is the top weight, but he will likely start as favourite, having won easily at Newmarket last month. He might be as short as nine-to-four or even two-to-one, but he’s giving us ten pounds in the handicap, and I reckon he’s been overrated.’
Handicap races were those in which the weight a horse carried on its back was determined by a rating given to it by the official handicapper, based on its previous performances — the better the horse, the higher was its rating, and so the more weight it carried. The aim was to give every horse an equal chance of winning, to make the races highly competitive, ideal for encouraging the public to go racing and gamble on the outcome, something the racecourses desperately wanted.
Five of the seven races at Windsor this evening were handicaps, the other two being novice races for inexperienced young horses.
‘So will you be backing Balham?’ Derek asked Richie pointedly.
Richie laughed. ‘I’m backing him with my reputation.’
Everyone else now laughed, but it was more of a nervous titter than an outright guffaw.
‘Right,’ said Richie. ‘I also have a runner in the second race that needs my attention. Don’t forget, Balham is in the fourth, at a quarter past seven. I’ll see you all in the parade ring beforehand.’
Richie walked away with the thanks of the syndicate members ringing in his ears, and then, as one, they turned their attention to me.
‘So what do you think?’ Derek asked.
‘I agree with Richie,’ I said.
‘So will you be backing him?’
‘Yes, I will,’ I said quickly. ‘As Rickie recommended, I’ll have a small each-way bet.’
And it will be a small bet, I thought, because I hated losing. I was staking too much on the success of Victrix horses as it was, without adding to it with my hard-earned cash.
I left my syndicate members in the restaurant to enjoy their free steak-and-kidney-pie supper while I went down to the weighing room, not so much to see anyone in particular as to be seen. It was good for business.
‘Hi, Chester. Well done with Potassium on Saturday,’ said a man coming out of the Press Room.
‘Thanks, Jerry,’ I replied.
Jerry Parker worked for the Racing Post, the sport’s dedicated daily newspaper.