THE accessibility of horse racing as an industry and sport is often an aspect undervalued or wastefully unrecognised. For instance, any old chancer could have walked into Goffs this week and rubbed shoulders with a who’s who of the National Hunt industry.
I was that chancer on Wednesday, bound by the hope of finding a future Cheltenham Festival winner.
Walking around the pristine facilities at this famous sales venue, I am conspicuous by the lack of a sleeveless jacket and/or a baseball cap and/or a pair of jodhpur boots. Although I do take heed that nearly everyone carries their sales catalogue in one hand, so I keep mine at the ready, for instant perusal if needed.
My hope of seeing a potential Cheltenham horse is given in a boost after a quick chat with Goffs director Nick Nugent who tells me that if he’d written a wishlist of who he wanted to be at the sale on Wednesday and the day before, everyone here, would have been on it. And as the fella says, ‘they haven’t come over for the air.’
To someone who made his initial approach to the racing industry through the prism of a betting shop, the bloodstock world of buying and selling is something of an underwater venture (if you haven’t worked that out already).
Trying to sift information from the catalogue book is something of a complex task. It’s intriguing that on most pages, the horse’s family goes all the way back to the fourth dam, the great great grandmother.
I couldn’t even tell you my great great grandmother’s name nor great great grandfather. But I can tell you for sure that little sporting talent has passed down to me – my grandfather won two senior football championships with two different clubs in Meath. I’m struggling to get a game with my club’s junior C team.
So for this reason it makes perfect sense to me when the agents I get talking to tell me they pay little attention to the horse’s page. Hope for all.
One potential buyer tells me: “We don’t bother looking at the page until we go into the ring. We’d only want the ones we can’t afford!”
Sound logic. A bit like blind dating. And for sure it’s what’s on the inside the counts with these big bruising jumpers to be.
Everyone I talked to tells me that I’ve come on the quieter day – that all the action was yesterday. But my shrewd colleague Ryan McElligott has big hopes for lot 302, a son of Balko and full-brother to this year’s Goffs Land Rover Bumper winner Vision Des Flos.
THEATRE
The sales ring is theatre. I arrive around 10 lots before number 302, and observe the room slowly fill up to the busiest it will be all day. The nervous energy is palpable.
When the auctioneer starts his call, the bidding takes moment to accelerate. An awkward kind of silence. It’s a bit like the start of a boxing match. But when it does get going, this three-year-old beast equals my salary worth in about 20 seconds.
I don’t have a clue who is bidding or how the auctioneer and his team record it. Hands go up, shouts go up and the price on the screen goes up. Fast.
At the end it seems to be between two bidders and although I don’t have a clue who. The one-on-one match eventually goes the way of a gentleman called Aiden Murphy who forks out a pretty €175,000 for the gelding named Etat Des Flos.
If the sales ring is a theatre, the auctioneer plays the starring role. One fellow observer told me that in between their set of 15 lots each, these lightening-tongued showmen will go and visit each vendor for extra information such as reserve price, updates to the page and finding out who has been to see the horse.
It’s a lot of information to divulge and then they have to play the part of a salesman.
“You’ve come all this way sir, you’re not going to let him go now are you?”
Aided by the spotters, who circle around the ring, with faces of stern concentration, the whole process is an efficient ball of adrenaline. Boom, bang, boom… silence, and the gavel comes down. Next lot.
However, some 45 minutes sitting down and having observed 20 lots or so, I am still finding it difficult to work out who is doing the bidding on each said horse. And, such is the subtle nature of these hidden bidders, I’m too afraid to move my hands anywhere near my head for the fear of being in for €16,000 on a bay gelding by Jeremy.
I spend the second half of my day outside roaming around in the pre-parade ring. It’s a hive of activity with people perched everywhere gawking at these young equine athletes.
Ryan puts me in contact with Peter Molony, chief of Rathmore Stud. I catch Peter treating himself to an ice cream, just after he sold a bay gelding by Scorpion for €30,000 to Trevor Hemmings. I’d have gone for the ice cream truck in the same circumstance.
“We’re delighted with that,” Peter tells me, “ It’s been a good day in general and you have to be happy.
“You can never fully expect an exact figure to come in. For example we had a filly by Jeremy earlier which we thought might only make 12,000. She ended up making 26.
“We’re looking forward to one later (lot 402, a son of Librettist) and we’d be hoping that will sell well.”
I don’t know what selling well is to Peter but the son of Librettist fetches €34,000. In total, with five horses sold, €151,000 is heading to Rathmore Stud. Not a bad day’s work.
The last person I talk to at Goffs on Wednesday is agent Bobby O’Ryan. And this is my highlight of my day. The man is both a genius and a gentleman.
“It’s a great game,” he tells me.
“I’ve been doing this for years. You can’t beat it. I love coming to the sales”
O’Ryan’s list of success stories is as long as his arm but is highlighted by horses of the likes of Cockney Rebel, Casamento and Wootton Bassett. All household names, all bought for under €50,000.
Asking him about what he looks for in a horse is a bit like asking Lionel Messi why he’s good at football. But O’Ryan is far too polite to brush aside my simplistic question. We stand by the pre-parade ring and observe four or five horses walking around.
“I like to watch the horses walk. I wouldn’t even look at their page. I’d rather see them first.
“Their conformation is very important. And their action - how they move each foot alongside the others.
“You see him there,” he says at the first horse to walk past, “He’s just a bit deep on his shoulders.”
Another one goes by. “He’s a bit close on his hocks.”
As we speak. Mark and Sara Bradstock walk by and stop to ask Bobby’s opinion on a horse that they are interested in. For sure it’s not the first bit of advice or feedback he’s given today.
A half an hour has ticked by in what feels like five or 10 minutes.
“It’s a great game,” he tells me again. “These two days have been great – the clearance rate yesterday was brilliant and it seems to be going as well today.
“But it’s amazing – even when there was no money around, people were still buying horses, it never really stops.”
Amen to that.