Older readers may remember an office custom known as a sweepstake. It took place before a major horse race, such as the Derby or the Grand National. Everyone would put, say, a pound in the pot, draw the name of a horse and if that horse won, she or he would collect the winnings. An old friend took things to another level in his office, organising a sweepstake on the first horse to be put down. If this appeared to be in bad taste, I would have argued that horse racing itself was in bad taste, given that 2979 horses have died racing in the last 6599 days. Things got interesting one year when two horses died in the Grand National and it was decided to contact the Jockey Club to establish which one died first in order to arrange the pay out to the lucky winner. This particular sweepstake no longer takes place, but the horse deaths do.
This year’s Cheltenham Horse Death Festival, enjoyed by many thousands of pissed up people in fancy dress, ‘enjoyed’ just the two deaths which added to the 13 pages worth of deaths over the years which you can read about here. This week in Liverpool, Aintree to be precise, it’s the Grand National Festival and, thank the Lord, there are only the eight pages of horse deaths to thumb through. On the list is Willy De Houelle, a four-year old gelding from France who on Thursday fell, broke his neck and took a bullet to the brain was humanely euthanised. The Daily Mirror, in common with the rest of the red top gutter press, had an interesting take on the horse’s death.
It was trainer Willie Mullins who “suffered a huge blow on the first day of the Grand National Festival on Thursday after Willy De Houelle suffered a fatal fall.” Showing even greater empathy, ITV presenter got to the heart of the matter: “I’m afraid Willy De Houelle suffered a fatal injury in that race.Our thoughts with the Riccis (the owners), we hope Rachael (Blackmore, the jockey) is okay and for Willie Mullins that will take the gloss off him winning that contest. That’s sad news coming out of the juvenile hurdle.” Thoughts, then, with the owners, jockey and trainer, poor loves, but the horse himself? Well, he was just a horse, wasn’t he? What a life. Get your balls chopped off – that’s what a gelding is: a castrated horse – and then break your neck as a 12/1 shot in a race in which you you probably have no idea you are participating in. The sport of kings, indeed.
Two days on from Willy’s death – the photo at the head of this blog is of him before he died – there appears to be no reference to dead horses on the Daily Mirror website. Instead, it’s the usual puff about THE GREATEST HORSE RACE IN THE WORLD! oddly, with no reference to the long list of equine fatalities which, you might think, would tarnish the event. Not so. It’s only horses, isn’t it, and they shoot horses, don’t they?
Thoughts with Willy De Houelle and not the Grand National and annual horse death parade some regard as entertainment. I’m a little old fashioned and find it impossible to enjoy a so called sporting event in which, as I always say, the main participants have no idea the are competing, as well as be in with a real chance of dying. If that many humans died in a sport, it would be banned. Horses? No chance. If only they could talk.
