Best Australian Racing Stories (46 page)

So far, not much good. Now, if we can, let us get a glance over a bookmaker's shoulder at his book—not a very dignified proceeding, perhaps, but when you are in Rome you must try to do as the Romans—so we sidle up behind a gentleman who is calling ‘Three to one on the fee-yuld! Three to one on the fee-yuld!', as if he were a new phonograph with magnifying mouthpiece and all the latest attachments. Let us have a look at his book. Under the heading of Forlorn Hope the entries are fairly thick and about four wagers from the top someone has taken a wager of £200 to £50. Now move on to the next man. In his book also is a wager of the same amount, entered at about the same place in his book. Hah! This looks like business. Now we begin to think that we are on the track of something, and feel like Sherlock Holmes.

Try another man: a bookmaker in a small way this time, whose motto is, ‘short prices and civility'. He has a wager entered of £60 to £20, about as big a bet as he cares to lay in one book. Now, what has our inspiration told us? It has told us that someone has been round the ring, putting fairly big wagers on this horse, and in all probability the man that put the money on knew something—or thought he did—because the general public does not invest sums of this size on guesswork. It looks more like the work of a stable commissioner. Of course there is no certainty that it is any such thing, but if you want absolute certainty about turf matters, you won't do much betting. We have at any rate got this far that the horse appears to have been backed by somebody for some real money.

Next comes the question—is the animal's form good enough to give him a good chance of winning? In the case of these maidens, a horse's form is not so very great a guide, as the animal has probably been meeting a lot of bad ones like himself and will be found to have run fairly well when the company was worse than usual. When he met any really decent horses, he, as the French say,
courut
obscurement
or, as the Australian translates it, ‘run 'orrible'.

While we're thinking out what his form is worth, up comes a friendly trainer and he helps us quite a lot. ‘Forlorn Hope,' he says, looking up into the sky apparently for inspiration. ‘Well, I know they're backing him, and they've got a good man on him. Of course he's not much good: never was and never will be any relation to a real racehorse: but he's pretty well just now and these are a terrible bad lot.'

‘Any of the younger horses got a chance?'

‘Well, there's a colt of old Billy Smith's here, Tin Tack they call him, did a real good lop last week; but I don't see my money going in on him. Better stick to the favourite or leave it alone altogether. The others—well, it's a miracle how they can get past the zoo, while there's lions to be fed twice a day,' and with this he sidles off. So now our horse has passed the money test, the form test, the jockey test, and we scurry over to apply the condition test.

A hurried inspection tells us that his condition is good. He has done a lot of racing and is hard and looks fairly competent, though most horses that get beaten often have a worried look when they go out to race; they are so used to getting a good whipping at the end of every strenuous struggle—an experience liable to daunt the stoutest heart. While watching him walk around, we see Tin Tack, a big loose-made, half-ready sort of colt; but somehow there is just that little look of class about him that marks the good one.

The moment for decision is at hand, the hour has arrived, the risk must be faced and we go back to the ring with the bookmakers who have been roaring ever since. There is a steady stream of small punters now putting their pounds on the favourite. They have agreed, if not even as we have, and are satisfied to risk their money. Also an acquaintance in the crowd says he hears the favourite is a certainty—but if you listen to what acquaintances tell you in the crowd, your doom is sealed.

Tin Tack is at sixes with apparently no takers: so, with the feeling of a man saying ‘I will' in the marriage service, we take £30 to £10 about Forlorn Hope and climb the stand full of doubt. For it is a queer thing that, no matter what a man backs, he nearly always wishes he had backed something else. Still, all the omens pointed to Forlorn Hope, so let us get up and see it decided.

The field go to the post as we settle ourselves in our seats and the bookmakers crowd round to a position where they can see the race. The roar of their voices reaches us en masse, so to speak, but at last the name Forlorn Hope comes up through the babble of sound like the voice of a tune in a church choir and—heavens, what was that? Fives? Did he say fives Forlorn Hope? He did! There it goes again. ‘Five to one Forlorn Hope!' All over the ring now! And we took threes! Gloom, doubt, suspicion, depression all spread themselves round us like a garment. If there is anything in racing that poisons a man's mind, it is taking a short price about a horse and then hearing him go out to a longer price.

Up comes an acquaintance, hot and breathless from climbing the stairs.

‘What's Forlorn Hope at down there?'

‘Fives now. He was threes. He's lengthening out!'

‘What's favourite, then?'

‘Tin Tack. Thing of Billy Smith's. They put a lot of money in on it at the last minute! I tried to get onto it, but half of them wouldn't bet me at all and the other half wanted odds. They say it can't lose!'

Horror!

The horses are at the post now and we get our glasses on them, hoping that things may be all right after all. Forlorn Hope looks well and the fact that his price lengthened may merely have been due to the backing of the other. Let us look on the bright side, anyhow. Still—if we had only waited—they're off!

And now you notice an almost invariable thing in a field of bad horses, namely that three-fourths of them never seem to get into the race at all. One would think that being all bad together, they would keep one another company in their misery; but some are grossly unfit, others deadly slow, and others not anxious to distinguish themselves, so the field soon has a long tail to it.

Right in the lead come Forlorn Hope and Tin Tack. Only 6 furlongs, so they are at it hammer and tongs all the way. The older horse has got away a little better than the other and has half a length's lead, but the colt is at his hindquarters and so far there is nothing in it either way. Close by in the press box, one of the reporters with glasses to his eyes is calling the race while his assistant takes down his remarks.

‘At the half mile, Forlorn Hope leads by half a length, Tin Tack next going well, then Ruby Star and something in blue, Walrus and Quicklime. Get the distance,' goes on the cold-blooded droning voice. ‘Forlorn Hope is done with and Tin Tack comes on with Walrus and something in blue next. What's that in blue, Billy? It'll win all right—Orchid, that's what it is—Orchid and Tin Tack come away together. Orchid going easy, then Quick Lime, Walrus and Forlorn Hope.'

The speaker's voice is drowned in the yells of the crowd as Tin Tack and Orchid settle down to finish.

We have never taken our glasses off the champion Forlorn Hope, hoping vainly that he may make a finishing run and win us our money. But alas, he seems to be tied to the fence while the field like a roaring lion rush past him: his jockey finding that he cannot go the pace with the others has determined that as he cannot be first he is not going to be second or third; so he drops out of it, and finishes flourishing his whip and flogging his boot for the benefit of the handicapper.

Our glory is dust and ashes, our spirit is but a spark, our money is gone; Orchid, whose name we have never even heard called, comes away easily in the last half-dozen strides and wins by a length from Tin Tack. Something has to run third and Ruby Star's apprentice rider, wild with excitement and working overtime with whip and spur, gains the position and earns nothing but the curses of his master and a rise of 3 pounds in the weight for the horse's next appearance.

Orchid! Who would have thought it! We sit dazed while two hard-faced gentlemen pass us on their way down. One says to the other, ‘Did you catch that one?'

‘Had a seven on it,' is the reply, and they disappear.

Post-mortems are odious, but anyhow let us look into this Orchid business and on what we have done or left undone that we should have missed it. He is a well-bred colt that is trained by one of the old school of trainers, a man who only keeps a few horses and does not have to win a race every five minutes of his life to pay expenses. The horse is ridden by a good jockey and has won several little races at small meetings.

‘Was he backed at all?' is the next thing, and we find that his own stable got a good lump of money about him at a long price and then kept their mouths shut. It has been a coup, no doubt, a coup and we were not onto it; that is all that can be said.

How did the two hard-faced gentlemen know it? Well, the only explanation is that they devote all their time and very acute intellects to exactly such problems as these, and they must have got the information and thought it worth following.

Never mind. There are five more races and at least one winner (possibly two in case of a dead heat) in every race. Let us forget our sorrows and be up, and doing somebody.

Glossary

ALLOWANCES The permitted weight can be reduced because of the conditions of the race, because an apprentice is riding a horse or because females are racing against males.

APPRENTICE An apprentice is a future jockey. He or she must be at least 16 years of age. In less important races apprentices receive weight allowances.

BETTING RING A betting ring is the group of bookmakers taking bets on the race day on the course.

BIRDCAGE A birdcage is a stable or enclosure where horses are held on race day. Only authorised people are permitted in this area.

BLEED Horses occasionally bleed at the nose due to rupturing blood vessels. These horses have to be excluded from racing for a time and horses who bleed twice cannot race again.

BLINKERS Blinkers are side pieces attached to a horse's head to prevent sideways vision. They are used to keep horses focused.

BOG TRACK If the turf is extremely wet it is described as a bog track. In Australia track conditions are listed as fast (close to perfect), good, dead, slow and heavy (very wet).

BOOKMAKER The bookmaker is the person who sets the odds for a race and takes the bets on it. Skilled bookmakers set their ‘book' to win most races.

BROODMARE A broodmare is a female thoroughbred horse used for producing racehorses.

COLT A colt is a male horse that has not been gelded and is less than four years old.

CRACK In horse circles crack means the very best. It can refer to the horse or the jockey.

CUP The Melbourne Cup is the only true cup race, although many cups can be won in racing. It originated in 1861 and was run over 2 miles, now 3200 metres. The Melbourne Cup is a handicap race for all horses and is held on the first Tuesday in November.

DAM A horse's female parent; a grand-dam is the female grandparent. A horse is said to be ‘out of ' its dam.

DEAD HEAT The term dead heat is used when two horses cross the finish line together. When races were run in three heats ‘dead heats' were re-run.

DERBY The Derby originated in England in 1780, with the first Derby held in Surrey at Epsom Downs. The race was named after the winner of the toss of a coin between the 12th Earl of Derby and Sir Charles Bunbury. Diomed, owned by the steward of the Jockey Club, Sir Charles Bunbury, won the first Derby. Traditionally the Derby is the classic race of the turf, restricted to three-year-old horses and run over 1½ miles.

FILLY A filly is a female horse less than four years old. When a filly becomes a four-year-old it is called a mare. Once a mare gets to stud she becomes a broodmare.

FIRST-UP A horse returning to the races from a spell is said to be first-up. If that horse wins its first race it is referred to as a first-up victory. Some horses are ‘first-up' specialists and race well ‘fresh'.

FURLONG A furlong is one-eighth of a mile, or 201.168 metres after metric measurements were introduced in Australia on 1 August 1972.

GELDING A gelding is a male horse whose testicles have been surgically removed. In general geldings are easier to train.

HANDICAP A handicap is a race where the horses are given advantages or disadvantages in weight to give each entrant an equal chance of winning.

HANDS The height of a horse is measured in hands; one hand equals 4 inches or 11.6 centimetres. Most thoroughbred horses stand at 15 to 17 hands. A horse is generally taller than 14.5 hands or 58 inches (147 centimetres). Under that it is a ‘pony'.

LENGTH In racing, place and winning margins are measured in lengths. A length is the distance from the nose of a winning horse to its hindquarters. As horses vary in size, so does the length, however the variation is very small. On average a length is slightly greater than 2 metres. Margins of less than a length are a neck, a half-neck, a half-head, a short half-head and a nose.

MAIDEN A horse that has never won a race; a race for such horses.

OAKS The Oaks race day originated in England in 1779 and is the female equivalent of the Derby, restricted to three-year-old fillies. It was named after the Surrey residence of the Earl of Derby.

ODDS The bookmaker sets the odds or probability of a horse winning the race. As the amount of money bet on a horse increases, the odds are reduced as the horse's chances of winning seem to increase.

PLUNGE A large amount of money suddenly invested on one horse—often in a planned ‘coup' in an attempt to get as much money on as possible before the odds are lowered.

ST LEGER A classic long-distance race.

SHIFT OUT A horse that ‘shifts out' moves away from the fence to a firmer, faster part of the track or to get a clear run. If forced to do so a horse may also shift towards the fence. Horses often drift in or out when tired or whipped, this is referred ro as ‘shifting under pressure'.