I ATTENDED a race meeting for the first time at Bath in July 1985. Although I was quite young, I have vivid memories of sitting in the silver ring with my aunt.
After ticking Beverley off the list in 2018, I completed the full set of all 60 UK racecourses. It only took me 33 years to do so - I was in no hurry!
In more recent years, I had come over to Ireland for the big meetings such as Leopardstown, Punchestown and the Curragh. However, it was not until I took semi-retirement last summer that I began to think about visiting the remaining Irish tracks. After Galway last week, I have another nine left with Tramore next on the list.
Born in Basingstoke, 50 miles west of London, I wasn’t too far from where Ian Balding trained. My earliest experience of racehorses was watching the Balding horses gallop, while we had family picnics in the public areas of Kingsclere.
Turbulent time
My father, who was born in the Ukraine, came over to England after the Second World War. The late 1970s was a turbulent time in Britain and after my father crossed the picket line to feed my mother and I, he found himself cast out. So, in 1978, at the age of 10, our family moved to Wales. From a geographical perspective, we were now closer to Wexford than we were to London!
I was probably an odd child in that I never had any interest in comics, toys or cartoons. I did watch Bugs Bunny a couple of times but even then, I knew rabbits couldn’t talk!
Everything changed the moment I saw ABBA win the Eurovision Song Contest in 1974. From that moment on, I was obsessed with pop music. I went on to develop an extensive record collection over subsequent years.
Being mildly autistic, I never forget a date. On September 13th 1980, for the first and only day in my life, I was confined to bed with flu.
With only three TV channels in those days, my choice of what to watch was limited. BBC2 would have shown an old black and white film, while both BBC1 and ITV carried five hours of live sport. I went with the latter.
With exclusive coverage of all the major flat races being the jewel in the crown of ITV, I settled down to watch the St Leger from Doncaster. Light Cavalry won the big race for Joe Mercer and Henry Cecil. Something about that horse just gripped me; how big and strong he looked.
I was back to full health the following Saturday but decided to stay in and watch the racing anyway. Two weeks after, I sat glued to the TV as Known Fact beat Kris in the Queen Elizabeth Stakes - that was it for me.
First love
National Hunt racing has always been my first love. From 1981, inspired by the achievements of Michael Dickinson, I started to collect newspaper cuttings in a scrapbook. At 16 or 17, while still in Wales, I was making a bit of money for myself. The first day I went racing on my own was to Chepstow in January 1986.
I witnessed the previous year’s Grand National winner Last Suspect win under Hywel Davies. I was also in attendance at that same track when the horse followed up.
Last Suspect is still the only horse in my lifetime to win his next two starts after the Grand National.
In adult life, I became a bit disenchanted with living in Wales. In 1988, a friend of mine who worked in the Birmingham office of the company I was employed by, invited me up. Having found I loved it in the West Midlands, I transferred to that branch and stayed for 36 years.
I went racing all of my adult life. After losing both my parents to that terrible disease old age, I was left on my own with no family. I decided to take semi-retirement, now only working on Mondays and Tuesdays.
It might surprise you to learn that I have absolutely no interest in betting.
Being autistic, I can’t get my head around numbers. It’s my personal opinion that one can only be a successful gambler, if you are a good mathematician.
I also like to have a return on investment on every single penny that I lay out, so again, betting just doesn’t appeal to me.
Love the horses
I go racing primarily because I love the horses. Each one is very different and has a personality of its own. Kilashee is my new favourite racehorse; a wonderful front-running mare.
Given that I am quite active on social media these days, it may also surprise you to discover that before 2018, I flatly refused to touch such platforms. I eventually relented after a friend convinced me to give it a try.
I primarily post on Twitter (X) but also use Facebook and Instagram. I wouldn’t say that I am recognised at the races but sometimes one or two people might come up and say hi. Anybody who wants to have a chat with me, I am happy to chat to them.
Ireland v Britain
Up to 10 years ago, I don’t think there was a great deal of difference between how racegoers were treated in Ireland and the UK. However, in the last decade, something has gone horribly wrong in the UK.
Racecourses are being run as a commercial business; they went after the alcohol pact, selling it as a way to go out to eat and drink. That policy ended up alienating so many genuine racing fans, both old and young.
In Britain, you tend to be treated as trouble until you prove you are not, while it’s all about front of house in Ireland.
The Irish know how to make people feel welcome.
Although Galway is the biggest festival meeting of the year in Ireland, it’s still all about the racing. The fashion and side-shows come a distant second.
In the UK, it’s the opposite way around. The Irish authorities recognise that it’s all about the horse; that’s the prime difference that I can see at the moment.
Mike was in conversation with John O’Riordan
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