You have to take it as fact that luck plays a big part when it comes to tipping winners. Jockeys, if they do not have actual control of where they finish in a race, can make decisions in response to things that happen in a race, sometimes the right decisions and more often, I suspect, the wrong decisions. The punter, on the other hand, can do nothing but wait, grimace or hope for the gods to smile upon them. Once the tape go up or the stalls open the punter is as lonely as the innocent man about to be hanged. Every race, from a humble seller at Redcar to the Grand National is a puzzle to be solved. On Saturday, I was very much down and out by the seventh fence, yet the horses that finished first and second were both probable winners according to my scatter-gun calculations. I was...

It is the proper start to the flat season this Saturday, though this year the Greenham, which, in a departure from normal service, may feature Albert Einstein, though Aidan O'Brien is yet to make-up his mind whether to pursue the long-term plan of the 2,000 Guineas or the hopeful saving grace of going sprinter with the latest 3-year-old to burn up the Ballydoyle gallops and to have his trainer in a spin of superlatives.  What I have found amusing is that on a day that has both the Fred Darling and Greenham Stakes, both important Guineas trials, as well as the Spring Cup, a highly competitive handicap, the John Porter, originally and traditionally the opening race of the meeting, has been parachuted into the number 1 billing. All because of the sport's, and for now the flat's, golden boy is due to try his hand against proper Group-type 12-furlong horses. Yes,...

At the conclusion of the National on Saturday, a strange sentiment came to me - at least it's over now, I heard from somewhere deep within me. It shames me to admit to this damning sentiment of betrayal echoing from my psyche. Two-days later I remain uneasy; as if that unwanted and uncalled-for message from deep within was a signal to some sort of termination. I will not, though, be divorced from the National, no matter my misgivings on its new look. I Am Maximus will now go down in National history, deservedly so, as one of the greats. Yet I cannot accept that he can be so easily parachuted into the same league as Red Rum or even Manifesto.  Someone should sit down and determine the start and end of the different ages eras of the National. It is obvious that the age in which Abd-El-Kader (1850/51) Peter Simple (1849/1853,...

Great Horse. Great Jockey. Great Trainer. Even Greater Owner. Same old. Same old. Let's move on. The letters column of the Racing Post today comprises some well-written and constructive moaning. I like moaning. It means the moaner cares and doesn't mind who knows it. Mr. Simms of Scunthorpe is of the opinion, given the increase in attendance at so many of the Easter Bank Holiday meetings, that the B.H.A. should allow or encourage more racecourses to stage racing over the holiday period. He is right to remind readers that back in the day there might be up to fifteen or sixteen meetings on Bank Holiday Monday alone. What he fails to note, though, is that very few of the races that comprised those fifteen+ meetings were competitive. Sadly, though, the main reason why the B.H.A. should not allow the number of Easter fixtures to swell is the much smaller number of...

Let's be clear, my history of either finding the winner of the National or coming across a long-priced outsider that out-runs its odds is as good as any leading tipster you care to name. The Tiger Rolls years, I admit, were not good to me, and I am yet to get a grip on the health and safety years of the historic race. But overall, I am not as bad at tipping horses for Aintree as I am in general. Where I struggle with the modern race is that there is no emphasis on jumping ability. Nor can anyone look for a 'National type', a horse who will improve a stone simply through having the technique for jumping fences that fall apart when brushed through or having the abundance of stamina required in the final mile of the race. In the past, even the near past, I favoured looking for a...

The following is an excerpt from 'National Heroes' by Reg Green. 'This was a brook, eight-feet wide, and approached across a ploughed field with strong, high palings bordering a jagged hedge on the take-off side of the water. Conrad hit the woodwork, throwing his rider over and into the brook beyond and although the gallant captain remounted when the rest of the field had passed, he fell again two fences later, exiting forever from the records of the race. The brook which gave him his soaking would thereafter and always be known as Becher's Brook. The mare Charity came to grief at the treacherous wall in front of the stands, which was the halfway point and on the second circuit the Irish horse Rust was eliminated from the competition through an act of foul play on the part of a section of the crowd. Their money obviously laid elsewhere, they simply...

Back in the early to mid-sixties there was a hunter chaser, trained by Captain Tim Forster, by the name of Baulking Green. He was, and I hope remains, a legend of the hunter chase division, winning the United Hunts Cup, a 4-mile hunter chase which back then was a feature of the National Hunt Festival, four times, finishing his career with 22 wins from 33 starts, plus 2 point-to-points. He did not ever run in either the Aintree or Cheltenham Foxhunters, so is perhaps not an appropriate topic for the day the amateur riders get their try around the National-style fences. My point is to ask the question, where are the modern day equivalent of Baulking Green or Flying Ace, the pride of Scotland? In Ireland, Winged Leader has broken the all-time record for point-to-point victories and hopefully will always be remembered for his exploits. I might answer, in part, my...

The anticipation used to overwhelm all other considerations. The Saturday of the Grand National I used to term my 'holy of holies'. Pull the curtains, take the phone off the hook, pray to a deity I did not believe in that there would no protestors and that no horse would be harmed in pursuit of my annual entertainment high. For over sixty-years I was stupidly in love with the Grand National. Not so much now, though. I wish it were not so, but now when I read about or watch recordings of Grand Nationals of the past, it is like watching a former love of my life and yearning to be together again. That's how it is with me, the sentiment aided and abetted by the knowledge I have to accept that is how it will be for the rest of my life. What a 'health and safety' National does not,...

The opinions of others should always be respected. For instance, writing the 'Another View' column in the Racing Post this morning, David Carr supports the many changes to the race he refers to as the Grand National, as if after a hundred and one changes something can be the same as when it was first constructed. He is right when he says life moves on, referencing, amonst others, the F.A. Cup semi-finals were played without a t.v. audience and that fifty years ago the Grand National was sponsored by the now defunct 'News of the World' newspaper. I respect and accept his opinion and I would hope he would likewise accept my differing stance on this subject. I am aware that the Grand Nationals won by Red Rum were different to the race Merryman won in 1960 and that year's renewal was different to the race won by Golden Miller in...

If you were asked to name the greatest Grand National horses of all time, who would you put at the top of your list? It takes little imagination to suppose that 99.9% would have Red Rum as a clear winner. And who would argue? I would put Red Rum at the top of my list but not by as wide a margin as you might expect. It is Manifesto who muddies the water. Yes, Red Rum's three Grand National victories are clearly superior to Manifesto's two, yet the latter ran in eight Grand Nationals and was placed numerous times. 1895 may be back in the dark ages but back then the Aintree Grand National took no prisoners and just to finish the race was an achievement in itself. In 1895, as a seven-year-old, Manifesto finished fourth to Wild Man From Borneo. 19 started, 11 finished. In 1896 our hero was canonned...

Nicky Henderson is teasing us again. You may be firmly in the camp that believes Jonbon is not a 3-mile chaser and running him over that distance at Aintree this week will be to waste an arrow given Jonbon is entering the latter stages of his illustrious career. I believe he will stay 3-miles but that is not the point. Apart from the possibility of Jonbon finishing out of the first two for the first time in his life, there is no downside, I contend, for giving 3-miles a go. If he doesn't stay, he doesn't stay. But at least going into next season Nicky will have that data to hand when plotting which races to go for. Come next Boxing Day, Jonbon will be a week away from rising eleven. Next season might be his last active season. If Jonbon should prove he does stay 3-miles then the King George...

Apparently, on social media there has been a hoo-ha regarding the treble achieved by Dan Skelton at Newcastle last Tuesday. I do not associate myself with social media platforms, so I am unaware of the degree of hostility, though reading David Jenning's column in the Racing Post today, it is obvious that Dan upset the fragrant petals who if life had treated them differently would have taken holy orders, by not informing them personally of the gamble his owners were trying to accomplish. It is described as a 'monster gamble'. Dan, as fine a fellow as you are likely to ever meet, has not come across to me as someone who would have the balls to be first out-of-the-trenches and think it hardly likely he risked more than a fiver on the three horses involved, none of which on paper looked bankers. As I have said in the past, part of...

Writing in the Racing Post today, Sam Hendry makes the point that whether you are a flat, jumps or point-to-point, enthusiast, we should all agree that we are all one sport. Granted, Hendry was making the wish that horses should be more regularly campaigned as both hurdlers and flat performers, citing, obviously, the success of Constitution Hill winning on the all-weather recently.  I am an advocate of horses being able to swap between National Hunt and Point-to-Points, abling trainers to give a horse lacking confidence the easier option of racing against horses of a lesser ability and for connections of promising young point-to-pointers and hunter chasers to try their luck against the professionals without having to forfeit their right to return to pointing during that season. Cross-overs can occur at the start and end of a National Hunt season, with trainers looking for a pipe-opener to put an edge on fitness...

As of now, Chelmsford City is no more. It still exists, Iran has not blast it off the face of the Earth and no stray U.S. missile has found its way to Essex as of today. No, the existence of Chelmsford City as a licensed racecourse is in jeopardy due to the actions of the B.H.A.  As much as I take joy in the loss of an all-weather racecourse, there are many things in this subject to question the B.H.A. about. Why leave the decision to take away the licence to hold race-meetings after declarations for their fixture today and more importantly their meeting on Saturday which had enhanced prize-money on offer? And why offer no explanation for why the B.H.A. has taken the action it has? Trainers, quite rightly, are up in arms about the situation, with Eve Johnson Houghton in particular extremely belligerent in her response to the situation....

In the course of my labours yesterday, an idea came to me. It is not an idea I have any major faith in, though within the construct of the idea there is, I believe, a kernal of ingenuity that a man or woman of greater intellect may be able to develop into a thing of respectability. I was thinking of nothing much when Constitution Hill came into my thoughts. Then Invades, the company that brings coach-loads of students to sporting events, and the buzz that the great horse created when he ran at Southwell. My thoughts then shifted to the hated, by me, concept of team racing, as if horse racing should adopt the key elements of Formula 1. Then I found myself wondering if horse racing, turf flat, could incorporate a genuine team event within an ordinary day's racing. Then my mind lingered on football's champions league, though the female...

The hole that appeared towards the final race of Trials Day at Cheltenham back in January has come back to haunt clerk of the course John Pullin. The hole vexed Lydia Hislop to the point she was quite nasty to Pullin in an interview as dusk fell that evening. Now, I suspect, it will not only be Lydia proving discourteous to Pullin, after the press release announcing that the final 3-days of the Cheltenham season are to be axed in favour of sorting out the drains in the home straight. Yesterday's press release came as a shock to all those trainers who intended to have runners at the 2-day meeting in April, and no doubt that shock was amplified by amateur riders and point-to-point enthusiasts hoping to enjoy, perhaps, a first competitive visit to the home of National Hunt racing. In the latter case, the May meeting has been transferred to...

I am no fan of all-weather tracks, I should have made that pretty clear by now. I appreciate the importance they have in keeping the show on the road during spells of snow, flood and biting frosts but do we not have enough of them already.  I fear the sport is slowing being walked into a U.S. attitude to the ground horses must race on, with very soon a dirt track added to the roster, as well as several new synthetic-surfaced racecourses. So no one will be surprised if I shed no tears if Chelmsford City should not survive the latest crisis to invade the calm of the only all-weather racecourse to install an adjacent turf course, its only claim for it to have greater priority for survival over Britain's other dull-as-ditch-water all-weather racecourses. The racecourse might have closed, if only temporarily, last week if the B.H.A. had not granted it...

I have long argued that our sport is very much a working-class sport underpinned by the wealthy and the mega-wealthy. Stable staff are obviously working class even if members of that staff were born to rich parents and were educated at Radley or Eton. To get anywhere in racing it is a requirement that you must work as hard as everyone else on the team and be twice as dedicated. Jockeys, too, work their asses off, working seven-days-a-week either riding out for a trainer or (and) on the racecourse. In fact, all sectors of the racing industry, including farriers, racecourse staff and bookmakers, are all working class irrespective of how large their financial assets are. Trainers, too, even if they served in the armed forces or came out of universities with degrees, or if set-up by a wealthy parent, cannot get by with a superiority complex. Trainers are out of bed...

I dislike the compounding of words to create a name for a racehorse. But today in the 1.30 at Uttoxeter there is a horse called All One Word. I like the name, don't get me wrong. Yet surely given all one word comprises only one word, should the owners not have considered naming the horse Alloneword? You do not get it so much these days but not long ago the days leading up to the Lincoln meeting comprised a lot of moaning that the flat always started with a whimper; it also went out with a whimper.  The latter is natural and could only be avoided if 'Champions Day' were to be the final fixture of the season. There is no reason, though, why the turf flat season should not begin with a little flag waving and several trumpeters. Flat connoisseurs have waited through a long winter for this day, so...

The names given to thoroughbred racehorses sometimes taxes me. I do not believe a serious sport such as horse racing should allow owners to give our beautiful partners names that ring with ridicule or silly humour. And when I see a name of a former popular or great horse replicated on a racecard, I am, at best, annoyed. Racehorses should be respected and honoured from conception to the grave, and this right should begin with its name. In his column in the Racing Post today, Chris Cook rambles around the name Sexy, a name given to a well-bred two-year old owned by Amo Racing. Sexy is related to Chaldean, in my eyes a fairly ordinary winner of the 2,000 Guineas at Newmarket. Although not a name I would ever give to a horse - if only - it is far from being the worst name ever given to a racehorse. Chris...