When South Africa’s singularly most influential racehorse owner asks in the post-race interview where the crowds are and what the marketers are doing about it, then maybe we really are entering the twilight zone. I seriously doubt that we have too many Hassen Adams’ or even , Markus Joostes, Marsh Shirtliffs and Raymond Deacons sitting in the shadows on the reserve bench, with cheque book in hand, eagerly waiting to buy that next equine dream.
Admittedly South African horseracing has suffered a fatal body blow in the past few years with the sad passing of irreplaceable titanic owners. Most punters and racing enthusiasts could probably stutter through the calling of a race if each of the late ‘Big Four’ of Laurie Jaffee, Gerald Rosenberg, John Newsome and Graham Beck had a runner – such is the fame and success attached to their individual multiple Group winning colours. And that is not forgetting names of yesteryear like Ovenstone, Gerstner, Rycroft, Braam, Winshaw, Bell, Barnett, O’Neill – even a Van Der Merwe and many more – and that’s all my jaded memory bank spews forth on this balmy Monday evening. For many of us who excitedly attended the Cape Hunt meets in the days when Piet Steyn and Chris Snaith still weighed-in at around 55 kilograms apiece – those good old days when we were sneaking around gambling precincts years before we were constitutionally able to do anything legal, the silks of the big four were probably more instantly identifiable than the new South African flag is today. Borrow the kids’ crayons and start drawing if you think I am exaggerating!
TRUE COLOURS
Iconic and successful businessmen of the Jaffee and Beck genre were genuine people of substance and wealth. They could have held their own on any continent on earth, in any sphere, and were real men who could genuinely afford to pursue the very expensive, patience sapping passion that is thoroughbred racehorse ownership – and I am not even touching on breeding. This wonderful sport boasts these kings no more, and when I look around there are very few knights in shining armour of proven financial consequence emerging through the ranks. Sure we have the modern-day stalwarts – the omnipresent green, black and yellow Jooste silks, the familiar silver and royal blue Adams flag, that so dominates Western Cape racing, the boys and girls colour mix of the Shirtliff magic, and the purple and white ‘Big City’ finery of the passionate Raymond Deacon. The Hillcrest-based and extremely affable Deacon may well have a different investment strategy to the aforementioned powerhouses but is, nevertheless, a core owner and, very importantly, an instantly recognisable personality and character on our racecourses. Everybody loves Raymond.
POCKET POWER
I am sure most of our horseracing administrators wouldn’t want to accept it, but size really does count in the game of life. And I am not referring to those cheekily inebriated momentary giants of the turf who go to great imaginary lengths when participating in the famed thirteenth race, in the lengthening shadows after the J&B Met. I am talking about real power, political and fiscal influence and with a turbo-charged cheque- book to match. These attributes are inexorably intertwined and go hand in hand – and if you don’t have most of them in abundance then perhaps don’t go anywhere near the Cape Town Convention Centre on your lonesome during J&B Met week. Why? Because it’s a rich man’s game – a potentially very long and potently lonely game – and the chances of striking gold at the boomed-up Cape Premier Sale, or any other Sale for that matter, while not entirely as remote as a Lotto ticket, are not really in your favour. And that is even with the beneficial assistance of our top judges of horseflesh – some great trainers and top bloodstock consultants. Hennie du Preez may have turned this theory on its head when he paid R70 000 for that ordinary –looking son of Jet Master who runs like the wind and conquered Hong Kong recently, but for every Hennie, there are a hundred guys who declare five years later, that they are sour to the game. Were they misinformed, intoxicated by the adrenaline charged thrill of waving that impressive catalogue or just simply in over their heads? Who knows? I don’t know if anybody really even cares. But the reality is that we always get back to size – and like it or not, the game needs the big men who are pouring the big money in, right now.
LAST WALTZ
But does the industry woo these giants and do their equispend any justice? Why did the razor sharp Mr Adams find it in himself to observe the lack of apparent effort on the marketing front when he was celebrating a Graduation Plate victory with the appropriately named, Comebackanddance on Saturday ? Adams observed that it was a multiple Group feature raceday and asked where the people were. Nobody comes back. Nobody dances. It’s that simple. And he is not a man who speaks for the sake of hearing the sound of his own voice – and hopefully somebody was listening – if they weren’t on leave , that is. We have expressed this wane desire so often before and sweet little happens differently. And seeing a well-known member of the racing media removing the blinkers from Adams’ very impressive WPOTA Diadem Stakes winner and likely Met winner, Past Master two races later, prior to the lead- in into the front – of- grandstand winner’s enclosure , reminded us, as if we needed it, that we are in Africa. And we really should probably not be arrogantly comparing ourselves with the likes of Hong Kong and other first world racing jurisdictions. I somehow could not imagine the racing editor of the Brisbane Herald or the South China Morning Post, or any other unlicenced member of the crowd, removing any equipment from the likes of JJ The Jet Plane in the aftermath and critically unofficial post-race phase of last Sunday’s Cathay Pacific Hong Kong Sprint. Does this little piece of comic African laissez-faire , for all its probable impulsiveness and innocence, not sum up our lackadaisical approach?
VERY RARE PLEASURE
And nothing is being done to package the product in bright shiny wrapping paper with beautiful ribbons. Simply relying on the J&B Met to balance the books may also not be the golden goose it has been for so long, after government recently announced an integrated plan to ban alcohol advertisements at sports events. Rothmans went up in smoke and befell the same legislative fate over a decade ago and big name sponsors are definitely not lurking around every corner. South African Polo recently lost BMW as headline sponsor of its Kurland International Polo Match. The Hollywood style Plettenberg Bay event, which attracts beautiful people, flashy cars and anybody who is somebody, has become a victim of the recession – just when they looked so damn cosy and immune to everything happening around us. So horseracing in its present form should be pulling up its socks – not pulling tongue and funny faces at suggestions. A ten race card at Kenilworth lasting five long hours with thirty-five minute lulls of nothing in between may well do something to balance the economies of scale, but it is a very tired recipe for disaster that hardly keeps the interest up in a pressured world seeking instant gratification.
CRAZY WHITE BOY
In the Cape Summer, we could settle for a five race meeting starting at five o’clock and finishing at around seven o’clock, with a sunset concert thrown in. Picnic on the lawn and close the grandstand from the second floor upwards. It’s called a quantum leap beyond the insulated ivory tower and jumping castle mindset. Generate some atmosphere and get the families out. The infrastructure is there and unutilised for 75 % of the year. For me personally, after paying R60 per head to park in Newlands and to cram into Kirstenbosch and sit amongst 6000 other sardines at the Carols By Candlelight concert on Sunday evening, I would really rather have been at Kenilworth. Racing and religion or good music may just not be the toxic mix we imagine it to be if there is reciprocal benefit. And the Kirstenbosch Sunset Concerts are well attended – whether it’s Carols, Freshly Ground, Snot Kop or Crazy White Boy, that blows your hair back. So there are other options in case We Three Kings, candles and tote dividends don’t work out to be too palatable or compatable.
Commendably Kenilworth hosts a twilight meeting this weekend on Boxing Day. Let’s wait and see how it is promoted and what side-shows are on offer.Will the excited crowds be streaming through the gates an hour or two before the first race with their cooler boxes and blankets and fighting over their picnic spots? Or will it be just another silent night in Rosmead avenue?
