Betfair Official Blog

Race Day Routine - Part 2

The stable girl returns with the second part of her account of what actually happens behind the scenes on race day

Last week we examined the race day routine of that most hard-working of denizens, the trainer. As promised, this week we turn to the team responsible for getting the horse there.

First come the timings. Ideally, the horse should be at the course two hours before its race. This allows for horse and groom to rest after the journey, before beginning their pre-race preparations.

But Travelling Head Lads, in charge of timings, aren't always the best mathematicians, so it is best to have someone checking. Ours came up with this last week: "The race is at two-thirty, so we want to be there at one-thirty, it's a three hour journey, so if we set off at eleven-thirty?"

Even when the timings are more accurately calculated, it can all go out the window when a horse decides it doesn't want to get on the box.

The Travelling Head Lad is also in charge of ensuring the right colours and tack are on board. In my experience, a mistake is made on one trip in three. Most of these are rectifiable, but not all of them. Punters no doubt assume that colour change announcements result from complex administrative developments, such as changes of ownership. The reality, that the Travelling Head Lad brought the wrong colours, is much less interesting.

The journey to the course is hopefully uneventful. Conversation differs little from that on the yard. Who would you shag? Who have you? Have you heard who's shagging who? I tell you, I've had enough of this job, I'm going to quit. (This is a favourite in racing, usually uttered by the same people who have been saying it for thirty years and are still in the same job).

When at the course, the horse is unloaded and the team splits in two. The Travelling Head Lad goes off to declare the runner and give the colours to the jockey's valet. This takes about thirty seconds, but invariably a detour via the canteen, to talk about how they've had enough of the job and are going to quit, means they don't get back in time to help the groom with preparations.

Stable lads' canteens share unusual micro-cultures. They're a bit like church hall coffee mornings - everyone knows each other, outsiders are not welcome, conversation from one to the next is identical and everyone there wishes they had the option of being somewhere else. The differences are that horses are the only topic of conversation and there's a lot more swearing.

Meanwhile, the other half of the human team - now rushed because of our mathematically gifted friend in the canteen - has been looking after the horse. They take it to the racecourse stables, where the BHA Security Department check the groom's pass and randomly check the horse's passport. (And yes, there are plenty of right-horse-wrong-passport or wrong-horse-right-passport incidents. Not every non-runner is for good reason).

An hour before the race they begin preparations - grooming and putting the initial tack on. Much of this preparation is pointless, but nonetheless, hooves will be oiled and manes plaited. It does not benefit the horse's performance, but traditions die hard.

Then it's off to the pre-parade ring to await the arrival of the trainer (see last week's article). Lots of walking. The horse is tacked-up, then into the parade ring. More walking. Jockey arrives and is put on horse. More walking. Lead horse to track and let go.

In communist countries, the groom would no doubt then join the trainer in some warm bar to watch the performance. But communism - along with lots of other isms - is yet to permeate racing, so the groom takes up residence on a cold rail to watch their charge.

The race over and the groom meets the horse. If there are pictures to be taken, the groom can often take centre stage - no one else wants to hold a sweaty, salivating horse when in their best tweed. Otherwise it's back to the stables to wash the horse down and put it back in its box.

Then, after an hour's rest, it's home time.