Point-to-Point racing and its role in developing jumpers

Article by Daragh Ó Conchúir

There has always been something special about a well organised point-to-point. 

It is social, in the truest sense. A communal gathering of like-minded people, with a love of rural pursuits and lifestyle.

It is racing at its purest too, founded on the genesis of steeplechasing in the Irish county of Cork in 1752. That was when Edmund Blake and Cornelius O’Callaghan chose to resolve which of them possessed the best steed by racing the four and a half miles from Buttevant Church to its Doneraile counterpart. Steeple to steeple, taking whatever route they saw fit and clearing whatever obstacle was in the way. Naturally, the money was down to increase the stakes.

Good horses often emerged from this sphere, with Tom Costello a legendary source of Gold Cup winners, but that wasn’t the raison d’être. Pointing was a leisurely pursuit. There was no competition for National Hunt trainers when it came to the acquisition of stores or younger jumping stock.

The landscape began to change with the introduction of an autumn point-to-point season by Irish authorities to make up for the fixtures lost by the outbreak of Foot And Mouth in 2001 but the last decade has seen an increasing commercialism that has altered the face not just of point-to-pointing, but of racing under Rules.

This has only accelerated by the reduction in availability of the good Flat handicappers, now flowing to jurisdictions such as Hong Kong and Australia with mammoth prize money justifying the eye-watering sums that National Hunt people could not justify.

There is always a risk with buying thoroughbreds but for end users, that is alleviated somewhat when there is form with proven depth. Of course there is a premium on that.

The results speak for themselves when it comes to the question of whether or not the sector is developing jumpers to a requisite level. Just look at the recently concluded Cheltenham Festival, where of the 27 races, nine were won by graduates of the point-to-point circuit – eight from Ireland and one from Britain. That latter success was in the point-to-point feature, the Foxhunter Chase, as Sine Nomine repelled the strong raiding challenge for Fiona Needham, her father Robin Tate and jockey John Dawson.

What is notable though is the high level of achievement. Of the other eight graduates from the point scene to score, five did so in Grade 1s: Slade Steel (Supreme Novices’ Hurdle), Ballyburn (Gallagher Novices’ Hurdle), Fact To File (Brown Advisory Novices’ Chase), Jasmin De Vaux (Champion Bumper) and Stellar Story (Albert Bartlett Novices’ Hurdle). There was a clean sweep of placings by ex-pointers in the Brown Advisory and Albert Bartlett.

This is not anything like a one-off, of course. When Colin McKeever’s Loughanmore winner, Ballyburn, sauntered to a 13-length triumph in the Gallagher, he was the fourth alumnus of the sphere to land the spoils in that particular Grade 1 in five seasons. Slade Steel was the fourth to bag the Supreme in the same period. That’s Constitution Hill, Shishkin, Envoi Allen and Bob Olinger we’re talking about between the two.

There is depth in terms of the handlers producing these talents also. Donnchadh Doyle, whose brothers Seán and Cormac are established providers with the likes of Monkfish, Holywell and Bravemansgame included on the roll of honour, was the only provider to have multiple winners, having guided Fact To File and Stellar Story to successes at Bellharbour and Castlelands.

Apart from the aforementioned McKeever, Pierce Power, Colin Bowe, Euguene O’Sullivan, Stuart Crawford and Warren Ewing had the satisfaction of seeing former charges deliver on the biggest stage.

It is significant too that the octet won their maidens at eight different venues, illustrating the calibre of the tracks.

The growth in the sector and the unarguable evidence that this system is working is seen in figures provided by Irish point-to-point website, p2p.ie. If we take the past 15 completed jumps season from 2008/09 to 2022/2023, we see a progression from when graduates won 725 track races, eight of which were at Grade 1 level, to a stunning 1570 winners and 27 elite successes. The total number of black-type winners increases from 39 to 98.

Since 2015/16, the number of winners has only dropped below 1400 once, and that was in the Covid-impacted 2019/2020 term. 

While the number of winners has largely been consistent – 1718 in 2020/21 was a high-water mark – the quality continues on an upward climb, with 27 Grade 1s secured by Irish point products in two of the last three seasons with completed figures.

And that is why the prices continue to rise. The record for the most expensive point-to-pointer was set in November 2020, when JP McManus shelled out £570,000 for Jonbon at the Goffs UK Sale in Yorton after the full-brother to multiple Grade 1 winner Douvan had cantered to a 15-length triumph for Ellmarie Holden, Paul Holden and Michael Shefflin.

At the Punchestown Festival Sale 12 months ago, it was a mare that attracted the biggest bonanza, as Mags O’Toole spent €500,000 on behalf of Brian Acheson’s Robcour ownership banner for Qualimita, who had dotted up in a Fairyhouse maiden by 30 lengths for Walter Connors and Bowe.

A highest price for a British filly pointer was set last May, when Saunton Surf was sold in May for £175,000 by Brad Gibbs to Warren Greatrex at the Goffs Spring Sale in Doncaster. 

That was matched last December, as Just A Rose was bought by Tom Malone, for British champion trainer Paul Nicholls, from Tom Ellis and breeders Sarah and Nigel Faulks. The same buying combination snapped up Will Biddick’s facile Badbury Rings victor, No Drama This End for £160,000 at the Cheltenham Festival Sale in March.

Meanwhile, Eddie O’Leary signed a chit for €265,000 at the Tattersalls Ireland Derby Sale last June for a store that was heading in Gordon Elliott’s direction and in all, 33 horses sold for €100,000 or more at that auction, making it the third best result in Derby Sale history.

And remember, a Camelot half-brother to Altior realised a staggering €155,000 at the Tattersalls National Hunt Sale in November 2019, purchased by former Republic of Ireland soccer international Kevin Doyle from Coole House Farm on behalf of Paddy Behan Jnr. It was the highest price paid for a foal at the sale for 12 years and the third highest in its history.

While the most recent auctions might finally be suggesting a slight correction, Irish producer and trainer, Liz Doyle wasn’t far wrong when she described the point-to-point sector as ‘pandemic and recession-proof’.

Jerry McGrath is relatively new to the scene as a bloodstock agent, a role he took up upon his injury-enforced retirement at the beginning of 2022. But the Cork native had long been tasked by his boss Nicky Henderson with keeping an eye on the Irish point-to-point circuit during his time at Seven Barrows, during which he rode two Cheltenham Festival winners.

Love Envoi provided him with his first Cheltenham triumph as a buyer. Jango Baie is a Grade 1-winning novice hurdler this year and Jingko Blue is another youngster acquired from racing through the flags that has made a good transition to the track.

“It’s been well documented; it’s harder to get hold of these highly rated, staying flat horses now because there’s such a market for them abroad,” says McGrath. “Because that has happened it has narrowed where you get your jump horses from and I think that’s why maybe the point-to-point thing has come so strong. 

“Of course, it has been massively influenced by the point-to-point handlers themselves. I have the utmost respect for those lads. They go out there, they put their money on the line, they invest in horses that they like at the store sales. We’ve seen in the last three or four years, they’ve been outbidding plenty of trainers. 

“When you look at it like that, it sounds a bit bonkers that the point-to-point men are outbidding the end users, bearing in mind they have to prove the horse’s ability, with the hope  that the end user comes back and buys it as a winning point-to-pointer.”

This is why not every trainer is a fan, as they are now priced out of the market at both potential entry points –sales for stores and pointers. But in an open market, those willing to risk the most, make the most. The vital element to it all is the emergence of talented animals on a consistent basis.

The handlers are clearly discerning in their sourcing too. While there are fashionable stallions, the point graduates that delivered at Cheltenham came from a variety of sires: Flemensfirth (Ballyburn), Shantou (Stellar Story), Poliglote (Fact To File), Telescope (Slade Steel) and Tirwanako (Jasmin De Vaux) were the Grade 1 performers, while Gamut (Corbetts Cross), Milan (Better Days Ahead) and Saint Des Saints, whose three winners at the festival included Sine Nomine, completed the crop.

This is why McGrath’s priority is the model rather than the page, although pedigree has to be taken into account.

“You can have a potential superstar but if he’s a terrible mover, his longevity is going to be very short. It’s a bit like cheap speed, the two-year-old that’s going out very early. You might win a two-year-old maiden at the start of the year but will you be there at the end of the season competing in group races? Probably not. So you do have to have an athletic horse.

“Temperament definitely comes into it but at the same time, these are young horses, and their temperament can be managed, especially if they go into the right hands. If you’ve got a hot and buzzy horse, it doesn’t mean they’ll be hot and buzzy in two years’ time. 

“Athleticism and movement is the big thing for me. And you have to have a bit of pedigree. If they’re not bred to be a good racehorse, why would you be surprised they’re not a good racehorse?”

Pat Doyle is one of the enduring characters of the Irish point-to-point sector, having been among the pioneers for using it to sell four and five-year-olds with form before the likes of the Wexford crew of Bowe, Denis Murphy and the unrelated Doyle brothers raised the bar. He kept up with the evolution though and had at least ten graduates running at Cheltenham. The majority of them were trained by Mullins, which is no mean imprimatur.

It is 50 years this year since Doyle broke future dual Champion Hurdle winner Monksfield as a two-year-old. Later on, he pre-trained Minnehoma for his good friend Roddy O’Byrne to sell. Minnehoma followed Cheltenham success with a famous Grand National victory in 1994.

Bob Olinger, Appreciate It, First Lieutenant, Shattered Love, Colreevy, Readin Tommy Wrong, Bacardys, Commander Of Fleet, Champ Kiely and Brindisi Breeze are just some of the other Grade 1 and Cheltenham winners to have emerged from his academy.

The very latest off the production line, Ballycahane winner In The Age, sold at the Cheltenham Festival Sale for £100,000 to Ryan Mahon for the leading British trainer at the festival, Dan Skelton. The headline act at this boutique offering was the purchase of Echoing Silence by Peter Molony from Sam Curling and Correna Bowe for £410,000, to be trained by Henry de Bromhead. 

This sale has produced the last two Gold Cup runners-up, Bravemansgame and Gerri Colombe, while three of its graduates from the 2023 sale participated in the Champion Bumper this March, including the runner-up Romeo Coolio and third-placed Jalon D’Oudairies. 

“The biggest trick is selling them to good trainers,” Doyle relates. “I’ve been very, very lucky with Willie Mullins, Henry de Bromhead and fellas like that buying horses off me that turned out to be successful. I’m an open market for anyone to buy horses off but Willie Mullins (had) seven or eight horses I sold him running at Cheltenham.”

For a long time, Doyle and his fellow Irish handlers had this niche to themselves. The likes of Sophie and Tom Lacey were trading but the point-to-point arena remained Corinthian in spirit and action. 

The old traditions are gradually being cast off with the likes of Gold Cup runner-up Santini (Ed and Polly Walker) and Ahoy Senor (Melanie and Philip Rowley) having emerged and with handlers of the calibre of Tom Ellis and Gina Andrews, Bradley Gibbs, Fran and Charlie Poste, Josh Newman and Kayley Woollacott and Will Biddick in the vanguard of those guiding young talent.

Tom Lacey is now training under Rules, but having produced dual Champion Chase winner Energumene, Sebastapol (this pair won two divisions of the same open maiden at Larkhill in January 2018), Blackbow, Kimberlite Candy and the most expensive British pointer ever Interconnected (sold for £220,000 after winning at Larkhill in a month after Energumene and Sebastapol), remains an ardent advocate of the division on his native shore.

“I think it’s irreplaceable. I don’t believe there’s any better grounding for jumps horses than point-to-points,” Lacey states definitively.

“Ten years ago you could send a well-educated horse 80 per cent fit to an English point-to-point and you’d win it stylishly. Now you need to be well educated and be a 100% fit. There’s plenty of depth there now. There’s more and more people doing it and you’ve got plenty of good, sharp lads doing it.

“I think there’s still an element where the British point-to-point programme needs to be tweaked… For example, this is the time where your four-year-olds start coming to fruition. You know where you are with them, you’re ready to run and this weekend they’ve got a five-year-old and over maiden point-to-point. Well that’s just stupid.

“They have also introduced these point-to-point Flat races. The issue I have with those is they have diluted the maidens. They have taken away a lot of the young horses which would traditionally have run in a point-to-point. And now the people that don’t want to be commercial fiddle around for a season running around in these point-to-point Flat races and to be quite honest with you, they’re dirt. You won’t sell a horse out of one of them. They should never have been allowed to come in.”

Does it damage the reputation of the product?

“Yes it does. All of the boys operating on a commercial basis won’t entertain them. If you want to sell a horse, it needs to be able to jump 16 or 18 fences and do it nicely.”

McGrath has plenty of praise for the British scene.

“There is talent emerging and we’d love for it to be stronger again but sometimes, people struggle to get a grasp on the English form, whereas a lot of people know the Irish point-to-point handlers better, they know the tracks better and can get a better handle on the form but at the same time, it doesn’t mean that there’s not lots of good horses come out of English point-to-points.

“I think sometimes there can be a bit of value and when you are buying pointers, it is important to remember that it is budget driven and you don’t always have to shell out the big numbers to buy a good horse.”

Lacey and Doyle are in agreement about the importance of producing a racehorse over a sales horse. It is the only way to ensure longevity as a commercial entity.

“There’s no point trying to sell a mediocre horse for a lot of money ‘cos you’ll only ever do it once,” Lacey declares. “We had a horse won at Dingley Point-To-Point (by 16 lengths) called Space Safari. Bryan Drew was there that day and rang me up that evening and said, ‘What do you want for that horse?’ I said, ‘Bryan, I can’t sell him to you. Don’t ask me any more questions but I can’t sell him to you.’ And that was because I wanted him to come back and buy another one.”

“I don’t want to sell a bad horse,” is the Doyle mantra. “I had a few horses in Cheltenham at the (February) sale. They made good store prices, but I explained to the guys that bought them, ‘This is what these horses are capable of doing. They’re good horses. Are they Saturday horses? Maybe not, but they’ll win races.’”

When a vendor is known for this sort of honesty, buyers take note when he vouches for a horse. Doyle’s word was enough for Willie Mullins to acquire Appreciate It, Champ Kiely and Readin Tommy Wrong despite them failing to win their maidens but they are all Grade 1 victors now. 

And of course, Nicky Henderson bought Constitution Hill because of his respect for Warren Ewing and his former No 1 jockey Barry Geraghty, who had sold him future Gold Cup winner, Bobs Worth. Constitution Hill finished second in his point at Tipperary, after making a terrible mistake at the last. What’s more, the physical exertions left a toll. It was only the word of men he knew and trusted that maintained Henderson’s interest. As we know, the Blue Bresil seven-year-old has yet to lose a race on the track and sauntered to a Champion Hurdle success last year before illness ruled him out this time around.

Some horses are just slower developers. Grand National winner Corach Rambler, who ran a stormer to be third in the Gold Cup and is a short price to back up his Aintree heroics, took five attempts to win a point for John Walsh, finally getting his head in front in a six-year-old’s and older maiden at Monksgrange in September 2020. So a relationship and trust with the vendor is critical.

“A very good example was Love Envoi,” McGrath explains. “She didn’t show herself very well on the day and there was a minor vetting issue but Seán (Doyle) assured me it had not stopped her and it would have surprised him if it ever did cause an issue. We paid thirty-eight grand for her and she turned out to be a Cheltenham Festival winner, a multiple black-type filly and a Grade 1-placed filly. That was a perfect example of trust.”

It is noteworthy how often Mullins’ name crops up in the course of these discussions, reflective perhaps of his dominance. What is interesting is how often he gets his business done privately, via his agent, Harold Kirk, with Pierre Boulard his man on the ground in France when it comes to acquiring the talent emerging from French three and four-year-old hurdles. Lacey is adamant that this, more than anything else, is why he is the leviathan of jump racing.

“People say, ‘What’s Willie Mullins doing that allows him to get all these best horses?’”, the Cottage Field Stables conditioner begins.

“If you’ve got a good horse and you genuinely believe it’s a graded horse, if you ring Harold Kirk and say, ‘Harold, I’ve got one for you,’ he will say, ‘What do you want for it?’ You’ll name your price and he will say, ‘I’ll have it.’

“That is what Willie Mullins does differently. He doesn’t say, ‘I’ll come back to you in a week’s time.’ The vet’s there within the week and they just get the business done. They do not sit on the fence and allow horses to be sold from underneath them. That is one of the things he does that no one else does. They are so straightforward.

“He’s got Harold Kirk working from November onwards with all the point-to-point handlers working in Ireland, with the point-to-point handlers in England. He used to come over and see all mine before Christmas, see which ones he liked, asked me which ones I liked and if they did what I expected them to do, I rang him up and said, ‘Harold, you should buy that horse.’

“‘I’ll have it.’ 

“That’s what Willie Mullins does that no one else does.”

Horse Racing Ireland has intimated a willingness to develop a programme of bumpers and hurdles for three-year-old store horses, while there is a programme of junior NH hurdles in Britain, though for paltry prize money.

This comes on the back of the success of the French programme of three-year-old hurdles that is backed with significant prize money by France Galop and is producing major talent. The first of the year was held at Compiegne on March 5, with the connections of Willie De Houelle landing €27,140 for a four-length triumph, the total prize fund amounting to €59,000. 

The Beaumec De Houellle gelding is trained by Arnaud Chaille-Chaille, who also was responsible for the sire winning at Grade 1 level. His best graduate, however, is Galopin Des Champs, who won a four-year-old hurdle at Auteuil on debut before relocating to Ireland and becoming a two-time Gold Cup hero.

McGrath has a number of Gallic contacts and sourced the highly promising juvenile, Sir Gino for Henderson from an April maiden at Auteuil. He is a huge fan of a system that also produced the new Champion Hurdler, State Man.

Doyle has reservations about racing moving in this direction though concedes that he would get involved in two-year-old sales if they were to come on stream.

For his part, Lacey believes that this method, while suitable to French-breds, is not necessarily transferable.

“I’d be very old school,” says Lacey. “I think we are all expecting too much too soon from a lot of these young horses. The powers that be want us to follow the French model with Irish pedigrees. We’re breaking a lot of horses at two, turning them away, bringing them back at three and turning them away. They’re still not ready. I don’t know if it’s the breed or the way we produce them or the way we train them or what, but our horses just don’t come to hand like they do in France.”

And you have to do right by the horse.

“Course you have. But when Energumene was here, the ease with which he did everything was astonishing. The gulf between a good horse and a Grade 1 horse is vast. You see it on the gallops, it just floats everywhere. Everything is so effortless.”

He jokes that he had to buy a lot of stores to find that Grade 1 winner – to be fair, Energumene is a six-time Grade 1 winner – but that is the role the handlers play, taking on risk, filtering the wheat from the chaff. 

“They go out, they put their own money on the line, they buy these horses as three-year-olds, they take all the risk. They break them. They canter, they school, they gallop the horses, they run the horses in a short space of time. Ideally they like to sell them as four-year-olds, sometimes they carry over till they’re five-year-olds. The good ones go on and make a lot of money and a profit, but there’s an awful lot of horses don’t even see the track, they don’t make the grade. And there’s plenty ones aren’t as good as they want them to be and if they’re lucky, they wipe their faces with them. That’s why they need the big priced ones because they’re covering the cost of the ones we don’t see or hear about.”

High risk, high reward, providing the ultimate quality control service. 

Still special.

Emmet Mullins - the Irish National Hunt trainer who has had no shortage of success - a common trait in the Mullins clan!

Article by Daragh Ó Conchúir

Emmet Mullins possesses the sense of mischievousness that is common in many of the Mullins clan, and there are times when one wonders if it might be a contributory factor in his approach to training racehorses. Or at least his race planning.

We know from a significant sample of more than eight years as a trainer, that Mullins doesn’t throw darts without having given them due consideration. It’s just that his way of getting to the double is more Mensur Suljoviç than Michael van Gerwen. Convention is a constraint he sees no sense in burdening himself with.

So, it is not just plucking outlandish plans out of the ether. That would be idiotic and Mullins is no idiot. He is not unaware that he might be doing something others would not consider however, and when he delivers with an apparently off-kilter plot, he most definitely gets a kick out of it.

Examples of eschewing custom? Landing a listed three-year-old fillies’ hurdle race in Auteuil in 2019 with Fujimoto Flyer, acquired as a yearling on a trip to Japan two years previously. Scoring in a Grade 2 three-year-old hurdle race at the same venue last year with McTigue.

Winning a Grade 1 novice chase at Punchestown last April with Feronily, a horse having his second ever run over fences, just a month after shedding his maiden hurdle status, having been given his debut over both national hunt disciplines at graded level. That elite Punchestown triumph was less than five months removed from the Getaway gelding winning a point-to-point on his first ever public appearance at Rathcannon.

How about preparing ten-year-old The Shunter to bag the £103,080 first prize in the Cesarewitch at Newmarket last October? In March 2021, the same horse plundered a £100,000 bonus on offer for any winner of the Morebattle Hurdle that subsequently won at the Cheltenham Festival, doing so over fences in the Plate.

And then there’s capturing the Grand National with Noble Yeats in 2022, the first seven-year-old to be victorious in the Aintree feature since Bogskar, 82 years previously. And that came just 14 months after running in a bumper, 13 from obliging in his maiden hurdle. 

For the most part, these aren’t campaigns his uncle Willie would consider and he is the most successful trainer in jumps racing. That said, when it comes to campaigning internationally at least, Willie has been all over the world and taken a punt in places like Nakayama and Merrano, and his own father Paddy (Emmet’s grandfather) did it before him, winning the $750,000 Grabel International Hurdle at Dueling Grounds – now Kentucky Downs – in 1990.

So there is a bit of nature in the ambition, the refusal to be hemmed in by the norm. He’s even had a runner in an Irish Derby, legging up Rachael Blackmore on King Of The Throne in 2020. But certainly, he has taken pioneering thinking to another level. It is his oeuvre. It takes a lot of confidence but the self-assurance is well placed. The CV tells us the methods produce results at a sustained and very exalted level. 

For all that, and despite an average strike rate of around one in five over jumps in Ireland since he began in 2015, 28% over jumps in Britain over the same period (four from six at the time of writing this season alone) and a career high eight winners on the flat in Ireland this year (15% SR). Success for the Closutton 34-year-old – his 30 boxes are located at the HQ of his father, George’s equine transport business and next door to the gallops used by Uncle Willie to condition his legion of champions –is primarily about getting horses sold.

Sometimes they stay in the yard, which is the case if JP McManus gets involved as he has done on a number of occasions with The Shunter, Filey Bay, So Scottish, Corbett’s Cross and Feronily, and with Noble Yeats after the Waley-Cohens acquired the subsequent Grand National hero. 

Most of them don’t though, particularly the flat horses, with a global market. Of the jumpers, McTigue is one of the more recent to have been bought to race in America.

In an interview in last year’s Irish Racing Yearbook, Mullins said he wasn’t good enough to be a jockey, even though he was a Cheltenham Festival winner in the Martin Pipe Conditional Jockeys’ Hurdle on Sir Des Champs for Willie in 2011. 

He won a graded novice chase on the same horse at Limerick the following December and then two years later at the same meeting, was entrusted with the responsibility of steering Faugheen around in a graded novice hurdle. But he couldn’t see himself having enough of those sorts of days.

“I didn’t want to be mediocre. Move on to the next thing and do better,” he explained in that feature.

So he retired at 24, just as his younger cousin David did, having won a Grand National as a teenager. They know their own minds, the Mullins boys.

That independent streak is evident in his second career. Being given the responsibility by Willie of travelling with Blackstairmountain to Japan and overseeing the eight-year-old’s preparations prior to landing the valuable Nakayama Grand Jump planted the seed for training, as well as leaving a very positive impression of racing in the land of the rising sun. 

He knew he wasn’t going to be champion trainer but given his disinterest in being a journeyman, resolved to operate commercially and improve the quality while he could. 

Making money on a horse is success in his eyes, as evidenced when in the aforementioned Irish Racing Yearbook feature, he posited that saddling a two-year-old to score in an auction maiden on the flat at Gowran Park was arguably his most important winner of a year that also included Noble Yeats’ Liverpool romp.

“Grand National prize money wouldn’t get you a deposit on a house,” he reasoned, referring to the filly’s subsequent sale.

Asked now to sum up his model, he uses one word initially.

“Flexible.”

That, as they say, is an understatement. 

“It was always to buy and to sell. Try and advertise your horse and sell it on for a profit. You’ve a lot of advantages with the surname Mullins but there’s a downfall with the selling part. I think most of the market would feel if Willie doesn’t buy it, it’s no good. That’s a drawback. It’s tricky.”

But it’s gone well. He would like to retain the calibre of horse, but it is not at the top of the list.

“I want the quality of the horses to be as high as possible but I don’t think I’ll ever go down the road of too many horses. I’m happy enough with the workload that I have. I went to Kentucky in September and October for the guts of five or six days each time, which you could never do if you had too many horses. There’s a good team at home but the bigger you get, no matter what systems you have in place, the more diluted it gets, I feel.”

As for being hands-on, he says: “I like to know, but I like to delegate. If I’ve all the right information I can make the decisions.”

He only rides work now when they are short of bodies, but is fortunate to have eight full-time staff, while his number one jockey, Donagh Meyler arrives three times a week.

He has just resurfaced a five-furlong gallop he had installed originally in 2018, and describes his method of conditioning as interval training. 

“All I know really is Willie outside the back door of our house. It’s all I’ve seen and it’s a good model to be working on.”

While the conditioning, fitness and schooling aspects are imperatives, they are useless without the raw material and it is here that Mullins seems to really deliver at an incredible level for a small-scale operation. He is very clear about what he is looking for when making acquisitions.

“When it comes to horses in training, it’s when they hit the line. There’s nothing worse than something tying up that might fall across the line and hold on to win. I would definitely be waiting for the horse in third that was too far back and flew home and ran through the line. I’d value him more than the horse that actually won but the market might consider the winner the best horse. There are plenty of different factors gone into where each horse was but horses that run through the line, there’s another day in them.

“With unraced horses, I suppose it’s a lucky dip but if they can’t walk, they can’t gallop. It’s all about the action. When you’re looking at horses that ran, the page is 90% irrelevant because they’ve either outrun their page or underrun it and there’s probably more underrun their page than outrun it. Once there’s black and white form, the page drops way down the list. But with unraced horses, it’s one of your only markers. You’ve got your conformation and pedigree and you haven’t much else to go on.”

Paul Byrne is a key investor, a friend of cousin Patrick (son of Willie), who clearly liked what Emmet Mullins was doing and whose light blue colours have become very recognisable on the likes of Feronily, Corbett’s Cross and The Shunter prior to their sales to McManus, as well as Slate Lane, among many others. Meyler is a key contributor too, obviously.

“We’re on the same wavelength I think,” he says of the experienced pilot. “Sometimes I mightn’t say much and I think I’ve said what needs to be said. If you’re not on the same wavelength, the jockey hasn’t got it. That’s my fault. It hasn’t been communicated the right way. With Donagh, we’re on the same wavelength and a facial expression could say as much as a word.

“McTigue in Auteuil, I walked the track with him [Meyler]. Don’t think he’d ridden there before. I’d won there with Fujimoto, had ridden there and we’d been watching Willie’s horses win there over the years. I told him how I would ride the race, and hurdle by hurdle it was just textbook, following the conversation we had the whole way around.

“Once we come out after getting the saddle, I ask him about the race. I might have my homework done but I want to see what he says first anyway. Nine times out of ten, we come up with a plan together. A few times, I throw a spanner in the works, like with Slate Lane in Haydock when I say, ‘We’re gonna make it today.’

“Donagh thought we’d be switching off as usual, down the paint, but I just thought there wasn’t much pace in the race so I said, ‘No. Line up wide. Go with them. If they’re going too hard, you can always sit in behind them. If you’re going too slow, you’ll get a freebie up front. It’s up to you to figure it out from then. I just wanted him to have those options rather than being locked in a pocket in behind if they were going too slow. But the main thing is we are on the same wavelength.”

When we speak, Slate Lane has just delivered on another target, his fourth consecutive triumph, bagging the £71,188 first prize of that premier handicap at Haydock he has referred to. It is bittersweet though as, barring a miraculous recovery from a very bad tendon injury suffered at some point during that race, he won’t compete again.

“I don’t know how he got to the line. Fifty per cent of the tendon is gone, into the tendon sheath and the big worry with that is infection. He’s in a cast now so as not to put the weight on it. The BHA vets were very good, flushed it out and gave him antibiotics on the racecourse and he went to Leahurst (Equine Hospital in Liverpool). It’s fairly certain he’ll never race again but it’s good news that he avoided the infection and saving the horse was the most important thing. With tendon sheaths it’s often 50-50 whether you’ll survive it because of the risk of infection.”

It is a reminder that even when things are going outstandingly well, in racing, above all other pursuits it seems, the leveller is just around the corner. Only the day before, Jeroboam Machin won a Fairyhouse bumper on debut. He too suffered a nasty cut on his tendon, a bigger one than suffered by Slate Lane but not as deep. It will sideline the youngster for some time and there is a double whammy in terms of a potential sale but he should hopefully return to the track at least. 

Some were talking up Slate Lane as a potential Stayers’ Hurdle candidate, cognisant of Mullins’ propensity to press fast forward with his neophytes but the intention had been to stay in novice company and to see just how far up the ladder the five-year-old son of Ask could go. 

He only had him six months, and though there were three underwhelming performances on the track for Paul Hennessy, the third had been an improved sixth in a two-mile Gowran Park maiden hurdle in March though that ended in disqualification when jockey Niall Prendergast weighed in incorrectly. That actually brought Mullins’ attention to him however, and when he delved a bit deeper to look at his third-place finish in a Moig South maiden point, the manner in which Slate Lane finished strongly was enough for him to press the button.

“He flew home. I know he finished third but he was the horse to buy out of the race. There were no hiccups from then. We were probably on the mark after Newton Abbot but it was 75 days out to the race. As it transpired, the race didn’t fill and he’d only have been a pound or two out off 113 but you couldn’t take that risk and you’d have been longer again out. So in between Newton Abbot and Haydock, we took in the (Corinthian Challenge) charity race at Leopardstown (which he won) to keep him ticking over. Michael O’Neill, who won on him, comes in to ride work for us a good bit.

“Haydock wasn’t mentioned until after Cartmel but first, it was Cartmel for the sticky toffee pudding. That was the big draw! As soon as he crossed the line - it was a 2m6f maiden hurdle - we said, ‘Big pot, three miles, Haydock, November’. I had a runner in it once (2021), Righplacerighttime. I tend not to forget where the money is!

“We couldn’t enter him in Irish handicaps because if you ran him in Ireland, the English handicapper has his own interpretation so we campaigned him exclusively in England over hurdles to keep on their handicap system and we wouldn’t be guessing about what rating we’d have.

“He was working well when we decided to go for the maiden hurdle. We thought he’d win and he kept improving the whole time and he had to. The same horse that won in Haydock, wouldn’t have come off the bridle in the Cartmel race and he came off it on the home bend and had to be scrubbed against a 78-rated horse. So he’s clearly improved. He wasn’t a 127-rated horse. It has been a natural progression.”

Using a charity race to keep him ticking over is unconventional, to say the least, but Mullins readily concedes that “we don’t do much normal”. The outside-the-box planning seems like genius given how often it comes off.

“You’re just looking for those niches. It was 2017 I think I went to those yearling sales in Japan... They are, I would say, on top of the world now with their system, their tiered racing, their midweek racing and their weekend racing, the prize money. It’s ten years this year since I was at the Japan Cup and the racing fraternity were like the Premier League stars. The following was phenomenal.

“I bought Fujimoto Flyer. Another foal I bought privately over there was Crowns Major (owned by long-time patron Annette Mee, who provided him with his first winner St Stephen’s Green). He won the big premier handicap at Galway (in 2021) with Wesley Joyce. Now, the third, I sold to Poland or the Czech Republic fairly quickly after but two out of three isn’t bad.”

No other trainer around would have campaigned Feronily like he did and that they picked him up for just £45,000 at Cheltenham, five days after cantering to victory under Derek O’Connor in his point-to-point was a fantastic start.

“It’s funny, on the day of the sale, I was going over thinking he was the best horse in the sale. Told the clients, ‘Couple of hundred thousand, this is the real deal.’ I hadn’t seen him but looked at the vet report on the phone, saw the video of the race but the rumour machine was going around that he had bad tendons. Two vets were after standing over him and cleared him! I spoke with Ellmarie Holden who won the point-to-point with him. They’d scanned the tendons at home, they showed me them, it was perfect.

“Paul was beside me and I says, ‘We’re buying the next one in.’ He says, ‘What is it?’ I says, ‘You’ll see when you sign for it.’ There were a few mates of his with us and I said to them, ‘Put up your hand now. We’re gone past the reserve and you’ll get him on the next one.’ One of the guys bid, so we got him. They didn’t know what was after happening. I was giggling away and Tattersalls had the buyers as Hughes, Smith and Stokes - three friends of Paul’s!

“He’d won ten lengths. He’d a big advantage going to the last. Popped it. Lost all the ground. Derek sat down on his back and he took off and went again. And you don’t go a second time unless you’ve got a big engine and he galloped through the line after losing all momentum. It was a no-brainer.”

Okay, buying him was, but you cannot tell me the subsequent course of action was obvious.

“It was Paul that wanted to go to Kelso after two good bumper runs (second to Isle Atlantique and third to A Dream To Share). He didn’t run too bad (finishing fourth) because it was a graded handicap on his first start over hurdles. We got the maiden hurdle in Limerick out of the way. I think the entries for Punchestown were closing after that and I don’t know why, but I just thought that the three-mile novice chase division was vulnerable. Stuck him in, then rang Paul and told him, ‘I might have done something crazy again.’ When the entries came out then he said, ‘That wasn’t one of your worst ideas.’

“We got the run into him in Cork (in a Grade 3 chase). We didn’t want to run in a beginner’s chase because if he won, he wasn’t a novice the following season. So you wanted it to be justifiable to lose it. If we won, well and good, if not, you had the experience. He ran very nicely in second and it was on to Punchestown from that.”

Sometimes things just fall into place. The Shunter was slated for a major staying handicap from the time he won his maiden in Sligo in May 2022.

“He wasn’t right for the Irish Cesarewitch and for luck, he went to Newmarket. The extra two weeks probably helped and it rained then as well.

“It was Paul that had spotted the bonus with the Morebattle. He had won the Greatwood already. You can’t be expecting him to be that far ahead of the handicapper to win three premier handicap hurdles so that’s why we had to take up the chase option in Cheltenham after he won the Morebattle. He probably wouldn’t have run over fences at all, he was still in a 0-116 bracket and there was a beginners’ chase at Punchestown for horses rated 116 or less over hurdles. I said to Paul we probably wouldn’t win a beginners’ chase in a month’s time when Willie and Gordon (Elliott) had their horses out and 140 horses were getting beaten in beginners’ chase. That opened that possibility for us. So it wasn’t that we were planning hurdles and fences with the Morebattle and Cheltenham. With that one, it just panned out that we had somehow done the right thing.

“He’ll get a break now and maybe come back for the Chester Cup. He’s an older horse, he’s had plenty of issues and I’d say his jumping days might be behind him.”

Corbett’s Cross is moving the right way and a return for one of the Grade 1 novice chases at Cheltenham is a more straightforward plan.

Noble Yeats is likely to miss the Gold Cup this time around, having finished fourth last year before filling the same position in his bid to go back-to-back in the National.

“I think we found a little race for him to start back over hurdles at Christmas. It’ll be a start. He had a tough year last year. Gold Cup, Grand National, Grand Steep de Paris. He had an extended break and didn’t come back to me till the first of October. At the moment it’s the National. I don’t think we can do both. He won’t be helped by being so consistent in his races, with his handicap mark and plenty of weight but as they say, horses for courses and he definitely has Aintree sussed.

“He’s a funny horse in that he needs a hood or ear plugs for the preliminaries, but when he’s going he needs cheekpieces. There’s no other horse you’d do it with. It’s just figuring them out.”

Just another element of the job Emmet Mullins seems to be very good at. 

TopSpec Trainer of the Quarter - Tony Martin and Good Time Jonny

Tony Martin and Good Time Jonny

Article by Lissa Oliver

It might be hard for some to choose a single highlight from the Cheltenham Festival, but it was very easy indeed to single out a shrewd training performance by AJ (Tony) Martin, who is our TopSpec Trainer of the Quarter following Good Time Jonny’s fine win in the Pertemps Network Final Handicap Hurdle. Martin mapped a clever campaign to the Final and had the eight-year-old gelding spot-on for the day to secure Martin’s first win at the Festival since 2015.

Based in the tranquil Irish countryside at Trimblestown Stud in Kildalkey, County Meath, Irish handler Martin has the ideal facilities for both Flat and National Hunt horses. A successful amateur jockey in his day, Martin has now been training for over 20 years and has earned a reputation for getting the best out of his horses and for his patience at allowing every horse to progress at their own pace.

Just such a horse is Good Time Jonny, who notched two wins at Leopardstown in the 2021/22 season and promised enough to start in the Gr.1 Albert Bartlett Novices' Hurdle at last year’s Cheltenham Festival before being pulled up in the Gr.1 Novice Hurdle at Punchestown. 

This season, his jumping let him down somewhat when he was tried over fences, although he managed a fourth place in the Beginners’ Chase at Listowel. Having lost his way a little, he bounced back with a qualifying run when third in the Pertemps Network Handicap Hurdle, enough to secure his place at Cheltenham in the Final. In between, he warmed up at Leopardstown, when hampered by a faller.

The ups and downs of jumping stood him in good stead, though. In the Final, Good Time Jonny lost ground at the start, was hampered by a second-flight faller and was just about last turning for home. Under a superb ride from Liam McKenna, he kept persevering and hit the front on the run-in to win, going away by three and a quarter lengths.

Martin was predictably delighted to land another Festival winner. “Days like this are the ones you live for. He was last at the top of the hill but Liam had the patience to sit and wait, and it turned out well," he says. "It’s been a few years now since we had a winner here, but it is worth the agony and the hardship. It’s absolutely brilliant. A bit of a gap makes it better!

“The horse has been coming along really well since Leopardstown last time, I just thought the ground might not suit him—he likes better ground, but he went through it well.

“We had a lot of good years and some bad luck, and it’s nice to be back with some good horses. They are not Gr.1 horses, but in their own category, they are all right. I have some great men, jockeys and staff behind me this year, and I’m just so happy for them. These colours, the Beneficial colours, have given us great days.

Does jockey gender makes a difference to racehorse performance?

Words - Charlotte Schrurs (PGDip VetPhys, MSc)

Male jockeys have no more influence over the performance of a racehorse than female jockeys

Experts from the University of Nottingham have found that the sex of a jockey doesn’t influence any aspect of racehorse physiology and performance. 

The findings of the study, presently published as a preprint at Research Square, offer a new perspective on the possible balance of elite male and female jockeys on the start line of races.  

Studies assessing the effect of the sex of a rider on racehorse performance and physiology during training have not been reported, mostly due to the lack of available data for female participants within the sport. 

The racing of Thoroughbred horses has a tradition dating back to the 18th Century in the UK. However, it was not until the mid-late 20th Century that the first ladies’ race was held. In the present day, more than 90% of participating jockeys, in most racing nations, are men. This is likely an unconscious bias toward male jockeys being, on average, physically ‘stronger’, able to push horses harder, and thus performing better in races than female jockeys. 

In horse-racing, male and female jockeys compete against each other in the majority of races. This is because the competitive advantage is less on the physical attributes of the rider but more on skill level or ability to partner with an animal. Indeed, racing requires quick reaction time and agility from the jockey while being able to navigate the horse with dexterity across the peloton at peak speeds often exceeding 60km/h.

In the present day, more than 90% of jockeys, in most racing nations, are men. This is likely an unconscious bias toward male jockeys being, on average, physically ‘stronger’, able to push horses harder, and thus performing better in races than female jockeys.

This decade has seen a marked increase in participation of female jockeys at an elite level in the racing industry. In 2021, the Irish jockey – Rachael Blackmore – made history by winning several high-profile races. This year, she continued her remarkable rise by becoming the first female jockey ever to win the Gold Cup at the Cheltenham Festival. Success stories, like this, are shaping global betting behaviours on the racetrack and challenging the public’s confidence in the ability of male or female jockeys to win big races.  

In the UK and Ireland, previous research had suggested an underestimation of the ability of female jockeys to win races, as recorded in betting behaviour. 

In racing, a competitive advantage may lie in the ability of a jockey to control the horse, and/or less weight carried by the horse (i.e. weight of jockey plus saddle). 

An average racehorse weighs ~500-600kg, an average jockey, ~49-55 kg. Yet, a few 100g extra on the back of a racehorse has been shown to influence race performance. Therefore, weight carried by the horse (jockey, plus saddle and added weights where necessary) is used to further equalise any perceived performance advantage. This allows horses of varying levels to participate in so-called “handicap” races. In such races, each horse is attributed a predetermined weight to carry (jockey plus saddle, with added weights where necessary) determined by the racing regulatory board. Horses with better racing records are allocated higher weights in order to further equalise any perceived performance advantage. Hence, jockeys are weighed in before, and weighed out after, races. 

All being equal, would a racehorse during race-pace work-outs perform any differently when ridden by either a female or male jockey? Would that racehorse be more or less likely to win a race? 

Researchers from the School of Veterinary Medicine and Science at the University of Nottingham, worked with Guillaume Dubois PhD Scientific Director at Arioneo Ltd – a company that developed a bespoke exercise tracking device for horses; and an Equine Sports Medicine specialist (Dr Emmanuelle van Erck-Westergren PhD; Equine Sports Medicine Practice, Belgium) to answer some of these questions. 

They monitored 530 thoroughbred racehorses, ridden by 103 different work riders, which were randomly allocated to a horse (66 male, 37 female) over a total of 3,568 work-outs (varying intensity from slow/med/hard canter to gallop) at a single racing yard (with varying tracks sand, fibre, turf) (Ciaron Maher racing) in Victoria, Australia. Variables such as speed, stride length and frequency, horses heart rate and rate of recovery were recorded with a validated fitness tracker (the ‘Equimetre’©). This tracker was specifically designed to monitor horses during their daily exercise routine with advanced data analysis services (www.arioneo.com).

The investigators found no effect of sex of the jockey on any objectively measured outcome variable, measured from slow-canter to hard, race-pace gallops. But would this lack of effect of sex of jockey in training, also translate to actual race results, where many other variables come into play?   

Analysing results from 52,464 races (combining steeplechase and flat races), female jockeys had a similar win percentage (of total race starts) as male jockeys in the UK (female, 10.7% vs. male, 11.3%). In Australia, male jockeys had a slightly higher win percentage (11.0 vs. 9.9%), but this was negated when considering a top three race finish. 

Taken together, the researchers found minimal effect of the sex of the jockey on both training and race outcomes. Some curious effects were observed. For example, recovery of racehorse heart rate after exercise appeared influenced by sex of the rider, but only when the usual training intensity on each track surface (grass or sand) was reversed. 

Male work-riders, more so than female, perhaps anticipated the ‘expected’ training-intensity (e.g. gallop on grass) and their proposed anticipation was transmitted faithfully to the horse, who responded with higher or lower heart rate. Further work is needed, however, to confirm this effect. When considered across all training sessions, then no difference in expected recovery rates of racehorses were noted between male and female jockeys.  

Ms Charlotte Schrurs (PGDip VetPhys, MSc), doctoral student and lead author with Professor David S Gardner PhD, said: “Our study is the first to objectively assess whether sex of the jockey has an influence on any aspect of racehorse physiology and performance. The data convincingly suggest the answer is no and offers a new perspective on the possible balance of elite male and female jockeys on the start line of races. Efforts to favour a more ‘inclusive environment’ would greatly contribute towards equal opportunities and the promotion of fair competition within this highly popular and fascinating sport.” 

The full study can be found here  - https://www.researchsquare.com/article/rs-1341860/v1

Steer clear of banks in international prize money stakes

Since Cheltenham last year, over £317 billion has been wiped from the FTSE100, with major contributors being a 38% slide in the price of oil as well as the dramatic speed at which China’s economy is slowing down. As we rapidly approach this year’s festival, the economic outlook is even less predictable and currency markets are no more immune to volatility than anywhere else.

With an ever growing Irish dominance, the conversion of Cheltenham prize money from Sterling to Euro is likely to be a popular activity in the weeks following on from the festival, and bearing in mind the current fickleness of the global economy, Owners, Trainers and Jockeys will want to get the best exchange rate possible. 

An example of how rapidly the GBPEUR rate can change came at the end of 2015; at the start of October, the exchange rate was around 1.3500, then moved to 1.4300 in mid-November. At the end of December, the price went back to 1.3500, where we saw a maximum change of 6%. So, when buying €100,000, there would a difference of €6,000, depending on the date of purchase. If the same were to happen over the coming months, for foreign winners at Cheltenham, victory would be somewhat dampened by receiving fewer Euros on the other side of their conversions.  

“Once you move away from your regular bank to an independent currency provider, you
immediately notice how much more prize money you receive on the other side of the conversion.”

— Bryan Cooper, Racing FX Ambassador and Irish Jockey.

On top of this, Owners, Trainers and Jockeys should also be aware of the provider they use to convert their winnings. Typically, High Street Banks will charge 3%-5% on the interbank exchange rate, compared to independent currency and payment providers, who have the advantage of being able to offer clients more flexible rates, with some bespoke companies presenting their racing and equine clients with prices around 0.3%-0.5%.

To put this into perspective, if for argument’s sake, the interbank exchange rate for GBPEUR was 1.3500 and a client was charged 3% by their bank when converting £100,000 worth of prize money, the client’s rate would be 1.3095 and the amount of Euros they’d receive would be €130,950. If the same person converted their money with an independent provider instead, they are more likely to be charged around 0.5% on the mid-market rate, receiving a quote of 1.3432 and would obtain €134,320 on the other side of the conversion, saving them €3,370.

“I frequently have horses racing around the world, and you’d be surprised how significantly the market can affect the exchange rate you receive and, effectively, how much it costs you to convert your winnings.””

— Willie Mullins, Irish Champion Trainer.

A mouth-watering total of $30 million will also be up for grabs at the Dubai World Cup at the end of the month and with competitors travelling from Japan, France, Australia and everywhere in between, the sums of currency being converted are likely to dwarf those of Cheltenham, with the difference in returns for connections using independent providers compared to a bank, being huge. 

With over £4 million in prize money at Cheltenham and $30 million from the Dubai World Cup, the number of currency transactions within the racing industry this month looks set to be phenomenal, and the potential savings that could be made are unquestionable. As always, there’ll be winners and losers throughout the week, but by moving away from the banks, those who gain festival glory could be even more victorious.

For more information as to how you can save money on your next currency transfer, please visit www.racingfx.co.uk

It won't be too long until the 2016 Cheltenham Festival

The Cheltenham Horse Racing Festival is one of the highlights on the sporting calendar and tens of thousands of supporters travel to the racecourse every year to witness some of the best horses, jockeys and trainers pit their wits against one another for a number of the sport’s top trophies.

This year’s event was a huge success and the popularity of the event, both at the course and on the television coverage, has only increased the anticipation levels ahead of the 2016 event. Next year’s meeting will begin on Tuesday 15th March and will last for a full four days before the final race on Friday 18th March.

Vautour, who won so impressively at the festival earlier this year, is one of the early contenders to claim success in the Cheltenham Gold Cup, which is arguably the most prestigious race of the week. There are a number of impressive horses already included in the betting markets for this race but the selection committee will narrow down the amount of horses involved as the event draws nearer.

By the same token, there are already some top quality horses pencilled in to run in the World Hurdle, which is one of the highlights of Thursday’s action. Jezki, which was a popular mount with AP McCoy before his retirement, and Annie Power, who famously fell at the final hurdle in the Mares’ Hurdle, are just two of the incredible field that could line up for this race.

Ruby Walsh will be well fancied after his tremendous performance at this year’s festival and will get the ride on most of Willie Mullins’ top prospects once again. The Mullins/Walsh combination has been incredible in recent years, particularly at televised meetings, and it wouldn’t be a huge surprise to see those two feature regularly in the Winners Enclosure throughout the week.

The Cheltenham Festival truly is one of the great spectacles on the sporting calendar and supporters who travel to the racecourse are in for a treat. The atmosphere will be absolutely sensational on-site and anticipation is beginning to grow for the first major festival of the 2016 calendar. While you can watch the racing on terrestrial television, there’s nothing quite like the general buzz and vibe of live horse racing. It’s well worth a trip and, with a bit of luck, you could come home with profit.

PUBLISHED IN ASSOCIATION WITH SLAP-UP-MEDIA

Michael Dickinson - "The Mad Genius"

By Frances Karon

Michael Dickinson is welcoming and instantly likeable, suffused with energy as he bounces around Tapeta Farm on the Chesapeake Bay in North East, Maryland. “I don’t say I’m good or great but I’m not boring,” he promises. Along that vein, the burning question is, why do people call him “The Mad Genius,” as coined by an American turf writer? Dickinson’s standard reply is that the nickname is “only half right,” without declaring which half. No relentless line of questioning will drag it out of him. “Who do you think you are, Barbara Walters?” he deadpans. “Or the guy with on CNN with the braces [suspenders]. Larry King.” What does his wife, Joan Wakefield, think? “Don’t answer that. Keep quiet! Could be divorce proceedings here!” teases her husband. She says only, “I know which half is right!” Draw your own conclusion. If he’s mad, or if he’s a genius, or if he’s both – he embraces it.

First, there is the interview. No, not this one. His interview of the writer who has arrived at his doorstep. It’s part of the process. He has made the appropriate phone calls, compiled a character reference and studied your transcript. He begins grilling immediately, disconcertingly scribbling away with the pen and paper he is never without. This is the quintessential Dickinson. The Mad Genius at work.

At heart, Dickinson is fundamentally curious. One of his many extraordinary features is his belief that there’s potential to learn something new or something better from everyone. He might not yet know what exactly that something is, but it is there, and he will find it.

The third generation horseman is from Yorkshire, England. His father and grandfather before him, and his mother after, were trainers. His father “was very low key and didn’t want the big lights. He was happy just churning out winners.” His mother, “Mrs. D” as Dickinson affectionately calls her, “was one of the best horsewomen England’s ever produced, and that’s a huge statement. She was selected to showjump for Great Britain, and she was one of the best of her time. She was a very good point-to-point rider, the best of her era. Then she started to train on her own for three years when I went to Manton and Dad was sick. She won the King George, the Queen Mother Champion Chase, the Welsh Grand National, the Whitbread. Yes, there’d been good female trainers; yes, there’d been good point-to-point riders, and there’d been good showjumpers, but nobody excelled in all three disciplines.”

Dickinson began riding over fences, and in his first season emulated his father as champion amateur jockey. He was also fifth in the overall jockey’s standings, “which was perhaps higher than I should have been. I rode five winners at the Cheltenham Festival, and there were better riders than me who rode less, so that was an achievement. Dad was a North Country trainer and I was a North Country jockey and we weren’t high profile. To have a couple of runners at Cheltenham was magnificent. We walked in ten feet tall, “oh, we’ve got arunner.” And weren’t we so pleased and proud to have a runner! If it ran well, oh, it was great. And then by the end, if we didn’t have a winner we were ready to jump off the grandstand.” He continued riding competitively for ten years. “I loved it. The only thing I didn’t like was the dieting, because I had to be 140 pounds and my natural weight was 168 pounds. The falls never worried me. You never worry about the pain, you just worry because you can’t eat all day. People, if they wanted to be kind, said I was good over a fence.” And if they didn’t want to be kind? “Well, they’d say I wasn’t very strong in a finish. That was fair comment. I was too tall and I was a bit weak because I was 140 pounds and I’d have been tired at the end.” After a fall at Cartmel left him 20 minutes from death, Dickinson traded in jockey’s license for trainer’s license. Remarkably, the whip he had used for ten years was sold at the “nearly new shop.”

“I never thought I’d be top trainer,” he concedes. “I just wanted to be consistently in the top ten every year. They like saying I’m famous for the Gold Cup, but that was just one race.” He closed out his brief steeplechase training career with three consecutive championship titles each by money won and by number of wins. There is some confusion as to whether he holds five, or “only” four, Guinness World records based on his exploits with the jumpers, primarily because he is not ego-driven. “I’ve got some accomplishments and they’re about that thick.” Dickinson neatly pinches the tips of his thumb and forefinger close together. “I’ve got another book with my mistakes and it’s that thick” – moving his hands exaggeratedly far apart – “and I wake up in the middle of the night thinking about them.”

His meteoric domination of the steeplechasing segued into becoming private trainer for Robert Sangster at Manton. Though he had switched to flat racing, Michael was facing insurmountable hurdles in his new job with a yard full of backward juveniles. “One of my work riders came to me and said, ‘Michael, you’re doing too much with these two-year-olds.’ And another rider came to me and said, ‘You’re not doing enough with these horses. They’re not going to win like that.’ Who was right? Well they were both right.” That was in the same year Lester Piggott struck out as a trainer, and “the bookies were betting on who was going to train the most winners, Lester or me. At the beginning of the season, Sir Peter O’Sullevan – a great man – came, had a look around, saw the two-year-olds and saw all the new gallops which needed a bit more time and he went out and had a big bet on Lester. He said, ‘Michael, you’ve got no chance. I’ve seen the two-year-olds, and they’re all big, tall, Nijinsky-type gangly things.’ So we knew in March we were in trouble because Sir Peter, apart from being an excellent racecaller, is a very shrewd betting man.” Six months into the season, Sangster fired Dickinson. “We didn’t have enough winners. We had Golden Fleeces and Kings Lakes, which weren’t good stallions, so that was part of it. I’m not blaming Robert for that. Losing a job’s not the end of the world. Losing my reputation was.”

As is often the case with such seemingly devastating setbacks, Dickinson reflects on it as “the best thing that happened. I still love visiting England but I couldn’t have been as happy. I like the freedom in America.” With help from Dr. David Lambert, Dickinson attended the Calder juvenile sale and was in business. He set up shop at Fair Hill in Maryland that year, in 1987, and stayed until Tapeta Farm was completed in 1998 to his exact, and exacting, specifications, right down to the in-house synthetic footing.

Tapeta Farm is a culmination of a dream germinated 25 years before its inception. Dickinson still calls his summers with Vincent O’Brien at Ballydoyle in the early 70s “the two happiest of my life.” He pulls out a notebook that is so old it had cost 10 pence, filled with meticulous notes dating back to his days with O’Brien, who may have been a quiet man but has through Dickinson’s observations an eloquent verbosity. Other notebooks follow, including the one in which he chronicled his three week “vacation” in California with Charlie Whittingham during jump racing’s off season in 1983.

At Ballydoyle, “The penny dropped, and I suddenly realised whey everyone sent [O’Brien] their million-dollar yearlings, because he didn’t break them down. There were no sore horses. He ignited my passion for surfaces. Ballydoyle is a magnificent environment and Tapeta Farm is just copying what an Irishman did many years ago.” Whittingham told Dickinson, “You’ll end up going on the flat.” When Dickinson responded, “I don’t think I’ll make the transition,” the Bald Eagle rebutted, “I’m sure you will,” with confidence. “He was a lovely guy, wasn’t he? Everyone liked Charlie. But I was only with Charlie for three weeks, so Vincent had more effect on me.” Yet there was a common thread in both these great trainers, whose words laid the foundation for the Tapeta surface. The most well-worn page in his Whittingham notebook is where he jotted down Whittingham’s oft-repeated phrase: “A bad turf track is better than a good dirt track.”

Touring the farm on foot is like taking a nature walk in the woods. On the 7 furlong synthetic course, the Tapeta mixture underfoot coaxes up to a steady incline which, in the summer heat, is tiring. You begin to understand how the miracle of Da Hoss came together here well before reaching the undulating turf course, which is another product of Dickinson’s “genius” half. It is comprised of three strips of different types of grass providing ideal training ground for normal, drought and flood conditions. Earlier, Dickinson had demonstrated the quality of the “mattress” that is his turf by lying down on it. “That goes along with the public perception that I’m just a bit mad, you know, lying on the grass. They would love that, wouldn’t they?”

Near the end of the solitary hike under the searing sun and thinking of the photo shoot, I take a breather on the turf mattress and mentally play back a conversation about Da Hoss. Dickinson and his partner of 27 years – and wife of two years, Joan Wakefield – agree that their greatest day came courtesy of a win by Da Hoss in the Breeders’ Cup Mile but they squabble over a triviality: for Wakefield, that day came at Woodbine in 1996, and for Dickinson, it was Churchill in 1998.

The 1996 Breeders’ Cup brings us to an urban legend we must debunk. The popular horsemen’s sheet Indian Charlie [motto: “We Never Let The Truth Get In The Way Of A Good Story”] has made the spectacle of Michael Dickinson wearing high heels well known to all backstretch denizens.

Dickinson sets up the story. “Forty years ago I was riding in a big hurdle race, and I was dating a model who came to the race in a cocktail dress and a pair of heels. She walked around with me, bless her, and I said, ‘I’m going to come up the left-hand side.’ And she says, ‘Oh no, I’d come down on the right. My high heels go in much more on the left than on the right.’ So by accident I learned that one way to test soft ground was high heels.” Incidentally, he won.
Decades later in Canada, inspecting the turf ahead of the race, Dickinson turned to his partner and said, “This is no good. You’re going to have to buy a pair of heels.” Wakefield dutifully approached a saleswoman at a nearby Shoe Barn. “I need a pair of the highest, thinnest stilettos that you can find. It doesn’t matter what colour they are, it doesn’t matter what size they are, as long as I can get them on my feet.” Within minutes, Wakefield had bought a pair of plastic red shoes to match the colour in her face at having to wear them, and three of them began to walk the course again with what Dickinson calls “science – the penetrometer; the old-fashioned stick; and the by accident high heels. It was important. I mean, you can’t be casual about it!” None less casual than Wakefield, accompanying the men for three circuits around the track in stilettos. “She made a speech and complained and I said, ‘Marilyn Monroe had high heels and she never complained!’”

“Yes, but she didn’t walk turf tracks, either! It’s not easy walking on soft turf with high heels. The other thing was, I said to Michael, that if anybody saw me…” says Wakefield. “This was October in Toronto, and there I am in open-toed plastic shoes and I said, ‘If anybody seems me I’m going to kill you.’ So we get around, and as we’re turning into the straight all of a sudden the horses come out on the track. We’d forgotten, or didn’t know, that it was twilight racing so they were coming out for the first race, and of course they’d seen us walking the track so Michael very kindly pointed me out to the cameras, pointed at me in those ridiculous bright red stilettos.”

“They’d be worth a lot of money now, wouldn’t they, Joan? They’d have been a collector’s item. But she threw them away.” Indeed, Wakefield confesses, “They were in the trash in Toronto. I was mortified!” Nevertheless, they had served their purpose, and Dickinson drew a detailed map for Gary Stevens to follow and told him, “We know you’re a world-class jockey but it’s rained for ten days and three of us have walked the track three times, which is nine circuits, so please allow us to impart you knowledge. We’re giving you some fairly difficult instructions and if it doesn’t work I will take full responsibility.” The plan was executed brilliantly.

Bright red plastic stilettos aside, the 1996 Mile is Wakefield’s favorite. Dickinson puffs up with melodramatic apoplexy, but his wife stands her ground. “Churchill was very stressful because he’d had a lot of problems and we expected him to win. That makes it stressful.”

Dickinson counters. “Well, I thought Churchill was easy. I knew he was 100%. We had him spot on because you and Miguel and Jon-Boy did such a good job with him. I knew he was spot on, and that was it.” Dickinson dances around the room impersonating announcer Tom Durkin: “Mark of Esteem’s got a lot to do but it’s the American Da Hoss…” Wakefield: “In da mile!” Dickinson: “And Spinning World is trying to reel him in! Oh my, this is the greatest comeback since Lazarus!”

Not having raced since the Breeders’ Cup at Woodbine, soundness and fitness were a concern for the then-6-year-old gelding, and Dickinson entered Da Hoss in an allowance race at Colonial Downs. “Six weeks before the race two good vets got together and said that this horse wouldn’t make the first race, let alone the second. But he was a miracle.” Twenty-three months following his previous start, Da Hoss won an allowance in Virginia but only made first reserve on the list of 1998 Mile entrants. “I wrote to the selection committee and I said, ‘This horse is better than he’s ever been, better than he was two years ago.’ Of course they didn’t believe me. ‘How can he be?’ [Colonial’s] Lenny Hale stood up for him, because he’d seen him win.”

On the first day of every month for that entire year, Gary Stevens’ agent Ron Anderson received a phone call from Michael Dickinson. “You will ride my horse in the Breeders’ Cup, won’t you?” “Yeah, yeah,” Anderson would reply, until October, when Anderson had a different answer. “Oh no, we can’t ride. We’re riding [Among Men] for Sir Michael Stoute.” Dickinson says, “If you were Ron Anderson what would you do? The other’s just won a Grade 1 and Da Hoss hasn’t run for two years. It was the right decision by him, really.” Yet Dickinson had so much faith in his horse he suggested a Da Hoss vs. Among Men wager between him and Anderson. “I’ll bet you now $1,000, wherever we finish, whether it’s first and second, or last and next to last, we’ll finish in front of that.”

Da Hoss drew in to the mile with John Velasquez named to ride. At the press party on Thursday, Da Hoss’ head man Miguel and exercise rider Jon “Jon-Boy” Ferriday surrounded Stevens. “Big mistake!” they told him. “And Gary was beside himself because there was so much conviction in what they were saying.” On Saturday, “We went to see Johnny at ten o’clock in the morning. I said, ‘Johnny, I know you’ve got a lot of rides today but you’re going to ride a winner and it’s going to be Da Hoss.’ I was crying at the time because I was so emotional, because I knew he was spot on, and I knew he would win. I felt really proud. I wasn’t worried.” Da Hoss nosed out Hawksley Hill (Ire) with Among Men unplaced, and Anderson paid up right away. “Well what could I do?” he said to Dickinson of his decision. “We hadn’t seen your horse for two years!” Dickinson split the thousand between Da Hoss’ Miguel and Ferriday.
In contrast to the ‘ease’ of running a horse against the world’s best competition after a two year absence, Dickinson was never more nervous than before what historical annals call the “Famous Five,” a.k.a. 1983 Cheltenham Gold Cup, when he saddled Bregawn, Captain John, Wayward Lad, Silver Buck and Ashley House to fill the first five places home. “I thought we might be sort of second, third and fourth but not win the race, so I was nervous as hell. And I knew my best horse wasn’t at his best.” Wakefield offers up her assessment of his nerves. “A couple of weeks before Cheltenham he’d won an award and had to go up to London. He put a suit on and I said, ‘My God, Michael, you are so skinny it’s unbelievable. How much weight have you lost?’ I mean, it looked like he forgot to take the coat hanger out because it was just pure bones.’” He’d shed 14 pounds.

Of his many amazing training accomplishments, what does Michael Dickinson consider the greatest? “Most people would say the Cheltenham Gold Cup, but the best horse only finished fourth that day, Silver Buck. He won it the year before, so I didn’t do a good job with him. I failed. I asked him to go into battle and he wasn’t at his best, and I felt guilty for it. I still do now.” He’s not lying. Here in his office, 25 years after the fact, his eyes tear up. “His owner came to me after. She had the best horse in the race and he finished fourth, but she couldn’t have been any nicer. She was so pleased for me. And you know, I was crying for her because I’d let her down. I’d let the horse down. Afterwards, it wasn’t elation. It was just…relief. It wasn’t, ‘Wow, this is great!’ It was just, ‘Thank God for that.’”
One word Dickinson uses infrequently when discussing his successes is “I.” “People,” he says, “always say you, but we had a great team. My father used to say that you can read what you want in the press clippings but don’t believe them, and Joan’s always been the same. She’s always kept me firmly in hand.” Wakefield asserts that he has relaxed in their 27 years together. “He never, ever used to sit and eat a meal. I’d put a meal in front of him, he’d take a bite, he’d get up, he’d make a telephone call, he’d wander around the house, he’d come back in, he’d sit down and play with it a little bit. He’d get up and wander off. He was a nightmare back then. He’s relaxed now to what he used to be.”

“You’ve got to have fun in your life, haven’t you?” With Wakefield, he does, and by the sound and look of it they have done from the time they began dating. They met at Wetherby Racecourse, through the cousin of a friend. “Michael always manages to find somebody to drive him because he doesn’t like driving, so Chris drove him and in between races with Michael running backwards and forwards between the saddling area and the jockey’s room Chris and six girls all stood in the middle. Michael stops and says to Chris, ‘How is it you always get all the women?’ and we got quick introductions. ‘This is Joan Wakefield. Her father builds horseboxes.’ We met for about 30 seconds. Two weeks later apparently he had got my dad’s name and called him at work and said, ‘Can you tell me where I can get hold of Joan Wakefield?’ I was obviously in the bad books that day so my father’s reply was, ‘Around the bloody neck!” which Michael thought was highly hilarious and proceeded to tell everybody in the racing world. Anyway, we decided to meet at the Wetherby roundabout at the hotel in the car park. By this time a couple of weeks have gone by.”

“We’re walking up the street there,” breaks in Michael. “I’m walking up one side of the street and she’s walking up the other and we didn’t recognise each other. I said, ‘Oh, are you Joan?’”

“So I get in the back of the car” – one of Michael’s riders was driving – “and he turns around and he looks at me and says, ‘What have you done to your hair? When I met you you had long, flowing blond locks.’ I said, ‘You’ve got the wrong one. I’ve never had long, flowing blond locks.’”

“I had six to choose from, and I chose the wrong one! Mistaken identity!”

“And how dare you ask me what I’ve done to my hair.” Dickinson had gotten aperm. “I said to him, ‘Michael, it’s bad enough looking at you with a perm, but I cannot for the life of me imagine you sitting in the hairdresser’s with all the rollers in!’ The press started nicknaming him ‘Demiwave Dickie.’”

At the end of 2007, Dickinson retired from training and put Tapeta Farm for sale. “It’s unique,” he says. “It’s easily the best private training center in America, and the only one on the East Coast between Washington, D.C. and New York, which is where all the racetracks are. It’s a great place to train. You just do what you want. If it’s raining, you can go in, have a cup of tea and play cards and wait for it to stop raining and then go and train.” The team now focuses entirely on their Tapeta surface.

Blending the first successful formula for Tapeta was harrowing. “I thought,” he says, “it would take me three months and it took me four years.” Give up? “I couldn’t.” Near the end, “we mixed all day. We started at six in the morning and stopped at two o’clock the next morning. I got up to see and it was terrible. The dream of my farm had blown up, and my ego took a beating.” They hit it on the next try, but the original mix has continued to evolve after he threw the gauntlet at Wakefield: “Here’s my product. Make it better. Learn all you can about sand, wax, fibers and rubber. And you’d better know more than anybody else, and you better be damn good at it.” The result is that they’ve gotten progressively “better every year.”

Dickinson denies being a perfectionist. “I’m old enough to realize perfection is never obtainable. It’s not worth killing yourself trying to get a ten out of ten, because it’s never attainable. So you just have to be happy with 8s and 9s out of ten.” Then why is he still fine-tuning his Tapeta surface? “I want to be better. I’m not a perfectionist because I know I can’t get there but I do the best I can.”

“There’s a big difference between training and building tracks. If a trainer is really good, and if he’s really lucky – say he has ten horses – he’ll probably do quite well with five of them, and the other five won’t do well. You’re all the time going around apologising for them. Even when you do everything right it can blow up in your face. And then trainers tend to beat ourselves up by saying, ‘If I hadn’t done that we’d have been alright.’ How many times do we say that? We all make mistakes, and very often afterwards it’s not the trainer’s fault. It just didn’t work out. But it’s not always black and white. You can’t definitely say, ‘It’s not my fault.’ It’s very easy to blame everybody else but deep down you’ve always got to take some responsibility. So I used to beat myself up and think, ‘Why did I do that?’” The self-proclaimed non-perfectionist asserts that a perfect win percentage is now possible. “If I do ten tracks, I can do ten good tracks, and I can go ten-for-ten. If it’s not a good track I’ve just got to look in the mirror. It was my fault and I go and fix it. If it does fail it’s my fault, where you could train a horse perfectly and it fails.”

Tapeta is featured at Golden Gate Fields, Presque Isle Downs, training centres such as the nearby Fair Hill, and in Dubai, England, Korea, Saudi Arabia and Singapore. Dickinson makes a case for replacing conventional dirt surfaces. “Why is the manager of an American racetrack going to spend a lot of money on a new track? First of all, it’s safest for jockeys. Two, it’s reduced injuries to the horses, which will help fill the barn area. The horses can run more often, leading to bigger fields and a bigger mutuel handle with no sloppy tracks. Owners trying to protect their investment want to go where the horse can last its longest and where when it’s finished racing he’s got a saleable horse. And then there’s litigation. Synthetics are proven to be safer, and you’ve got to be seen doing everything you can. The last thing is peace of mind. Priceless. You’re doing everything you can as a racetrack manager, and that is peace of mind.”

The market for synthetics can be fickle. After last year’s deluge at the Breeders’ Cup led to the fatal breakdown of George Washington (Ire), “the world saw the imperfections of dirt. That can happen to any dirt track any time. It wasn’t Monmouth Park’s fault, and I’m not blaming Monmouth. Any dirt track can turn into that.” However, interest soon waned after the well-documented problems at Santa Anita, which is not a Tapeta surface. Months of silence were broken after the very public fallout afterEight Belles. “The people who were on the fence went quiet after Santa Anita in January but now they’re all back in action again.”

Dickinson’s product is more than a racing surface; his pride and passion are part and parcel of any Tapeta deal, and he often travels to check on his tracks. “My feet can tell me. I like to feel it and I like to have a little dig with my hands. I like to run on them because I can tell how they perform when I run on them. I try and go barefoot whenever I can, but I don’t do it in the winter, and I can’t do it in the summer because it gets too hot.” A barefoot man running around racetrack doesn’t always go over well with an unsuspecting security detail, which inevitably gives chase. Once, he told the guards, “If you can’t catch a 58-year-old man I don’t feel sorry for you!” Another time, running in the evening, “This guy comes over in his truck and drives along next to me, stops and comes out in his uniform and says, ‘Please tell me you work here!’” His favorite incident was in Korea. “You know, I don’t look like many Koreans. I’m running around in my shorts testing it out and the security man was absolutely freaking out. He was peddling as fast as he could on his bike blowing his whistle” – Dickinson blows an imaginary whistle – “absolutely freaking out having about three heart attacks at once.” The man didn’t speak English, and Dickinson kept on going.

With training roots in two major racing countries and the ever-expanding reach of Tapeta, where does he see our sport headed? He believes, not surprisingly, that synthetics are going to become more prevalent as they improve, and that the ProCush whip mandatory in England and U.S. steeplechases will gain popularity in North America. The Europeans exercise strict rules on overuse of the whip, and Dickinson says, “That’s the way it needs to be. No one’s ever been called up for not hitting the horse enough.” From a health-of-the-industry angle, he sees a better product in England, where “the punter has tremendous choice. Some would argue that the bookmakers take too much out of racing and don’t give enough back. However, they do a marvelous job of marketing our sport. They take it to the public, they take it to the betting offices and they started SIS. I remember when we were at school, we would start betting on the Derby and the Grand National six months before. That’s always fun to try and have a pound on a horse at 500-1 six months before the race. Contrast America with the Kentucky Derby. Of 700 horses entered in February, we can only bet on 17 of them. It’s pathetic. We did better with the quill and ink 40 years ago than the so-called computers are doing now. In America, we don’t have a good enough racing product to make it attractive for enough bettors, and that’s a big stumbling block. We are handicapped, and the racetracks have to conduct their betting with 50-year-old laws which are way outdated.

“I enjoy racing anywhere around the world,” he goes on to say. “Arc Day in France is good. I don’t think there’s anything more exciting than Dubai World Cup Day. That’s terrific. After the fourth race they have a tremendous show there – fireworks, acrobats. And they have 19 nations competing, so that’s exciting. I’d like to see the Breeders’ Cup do more to entice more people from around the world.”

With an undocumented number of high-profile racehorses on a legal steroid regiment, Big Brown has become the unwitting poster child for Winstrol. While the arguments persist on the drug’s possible healthful benefits, Dickinson’s stance is that it needs to go if for no other reason than “it’s a bad perception. The public don’t like it. We’ve used anabolic steroids for the last 20 years but it’s going to be abolished in 2009 anyhow.” His opinion on Lasix is that “it’s a kind drug, because when a horse bleeds it hurts him. They think they’re drowning. In a perfect world of course they wouldn’t need it, but the fact is that 75% of horses do bleed, and it hurts them when they bleed, so I’m not totally anti-Lasix.”

Towards the end of our conversation, he says, “I’m just a farm boy from Maryland doing the best he can.” Surely he’s joking. Surely not “just a farm boy from Maryland” – or England – is this successful jockey, trainer, miracle worker and inventor of the Tapeta footing? Surely the first thing people ask when they meet him is about the Famous Five, the 12-winners-in-a-day, or Da Hoss? Surely that’s what we’re thinking? “I prefer not to know. They’re very nice but I’m sure they realise I’ve messed up a few times, and I hope they’ll forgive me for it.” His biggest mistake? “I don’t know how to answer that. I’ll have to think about that one. I just don’t know which is my biggest mistake.” He laughs. “Anyhow, you can’t help that. We all make mistakes. The man who never made a mistake never made anything, and I’ve always been a pioneer, an adventurer.” Ah! We’re seeing through this farm boy façade now. “I’ve always tried to think outside the box, and sometimes when you do things differently you do it the wrong way. But I accept that.”

Judging by the type of horses by which he has earned his “Mad Genius” label, Dickinson could be depicted as tilting at windmills, but he is no Don Quixote. Da Hoss; A Huevo, who won the Grade 1 DeFrancis Memorial Dash at seven; former $13,000 claimer Cetewayo, sidelined by multiple injuries, a Grade 1 winner at the age of eight; and Business is Boomin, who triumphed in his first race since May 8, 1992 on May 8, 1997. Six of the latter-named gelding’s seven career wins came in that 8-year-old season. Dickinson is quick to downplay accolades. “Nobody in their right mind would have tried, would they?” At the end of the day, all he really wants is something simple: “I want to do something good, make the world a better place. I want to do all I can for racing. I want to change all the surfaces of the world. I want to repay the horse for all he’s done to me. I would like to play a part in the racing industry, a constructive part, and I hope I produce good surfaces will keep horses sounder and produce good racing.”

In the midst of a heat wave, the temperature relents and our interview comes to a close. An evening walk across Tapeta, Latin for “carpet,” is pleasant, the Dickinsonian energy that runs throughout the farm feeling like a coiled spring about to be set loose, as a storm transforms the electricity from figurative to literal. The sky is ablaze, not unlike the mind of the “Mad Genius.”