You’d a notion when Ed Chamberlin woke up on Saturday morning he feared it would be an exceptionally long day, what with rumours of planned protests at Aintree swirling about the place.
And so it proved. By the time he bid us adieu from ITV’s coverage of the Grand National, he was worn out, like he’d just spent a month reporting from the frontline at the Battle of the Somme.
That he didn’t appear in a flak jacket and helmet after any of the many ad breaks was a wonder because you’d have been thinking from his commentary that tanks were about to roll over the hills and invade Aintree from left, right and centre.
He might have felt safe, though, because he had Sir Tony McCoy beside him, and when it comes to non-horse-racing-industry-folk talking horse welfare, no one simmers as angrily or spikily as Sir Tony. If the protesters had come near him on Saturday he’d probably have got out his whip. No stranger to using it either, this being the man who was once banned for using it 50 times on a horse during a single race. Fifty.
“They’re attention seekers, that’s what they are – and unfortunately we’re giving them attention,” he complained. But war reporter Ed defended the attention-giving. This, he said, was now a news story, it couldn’t be ignored.
“But they’re lentil-munching, tree-hugging, crusty layabout, good-for-nothings – they wouldn’t know a horse from a Chihuahua,” Sir Tony didn’t say, but you half guessed he was thinking it, judging by his flexing cheek muscles. “Horses,” he did say, “have a purpose in life, like us all. Unfortunately when people go to work things happen. A hundred years ago everyone had a horse, it was the only way you could get around.”
Ed and Mick Fitzgerald nodded. “I think we’ve got to educate them,” said Mick. “If you gave them a thoroughbred, would they know what to do with it,” asked Ed. Sir Tony, and Mick neighed.
It was in or around this point that you realised that one of the horse racing industry’s biggest problems is the quality of the defence its greatest supporters proffer. We’re talking toe-curlingly witless here.
Exhibit A:
Ed: “Every sport is dangerous! Running a marathon is dangerous! Formula One is dangerous!”
Sir Tony: “Yeah, it’s like boxing, it’s like rugby.”
It’s hard to know where to start, so it’s probably best not to. But “witless” is too kind.
The protesters were cleared, the race went ahead, and Sir Tony and the lads saw this as a triumph over bad people.
Ed was a touch nervous, though. The green screens out on the course, he reassured us, were just there to protect the privacy of any jockeys (or horses) receiving treatment after falls. And there were 13 vets on hand. So that was comforting.
He promised us updates, but just ran out of time to tell us that Hill Sixteen had broken his neck after a fall at the first fence and had to be put down, the third horse to die after suffering excruciating pain at the three-day meeting.
“Welfare is an absolute priority . . . this country has world-beating welfare standards,” Ed had told us before Hill Sixteen was put out of his misery, the horse’s trainer, Sandy Thomson, blaming the protesters for his death because they had delayed the race by 15 minutes. Whatever works for you, Sandy.
Ed, meanwhile, harped on about how much safer the National’s course is now for horses, more evidence, he suggested, that the industry cares so much for these animals it will do anything to make their lives comfy. It being lost on him that it was the protests of the animal welfare folk through the years that forced said industry to make the course less dangerous, not any desire on their part to reduce the number of these animals dying in excruciating pain.
And then ITV showed us how to fill in a betting slip. All because these horses’ purpose in life is to fuel the gambling industry. Broken necks? Meh. Collateral damage. Watch their media buddies, many with betting company-sponsored podcasts, swarm to their defence in the days ahead.
