Trainer Sir Mark Prescott once noted that the greyhound races for the anticipated pleasure of sinking its teeth into a fluffy white bunny tail ahead. The human athlete races for the hope of fame and riches. But what’s in it, he asked, for the horse?
One thing that has been in it for the racehorse has been the coercion of the whip, the fear that if it doesn’t do its utmost a wallop or two will follow, the hope that if it does stick its head down and go all out that little demon on top will stop belting away.
It wasn’t a reasoning that worked particularly well for me at boarding school. The masters and matrons who wielded cane or slipper, in some cases with obvious relish, only made me stroppier. But racing folk have clung to the old theories. What used to be euphemistically termed the ‘persuader’ or the ‘attitude adjuster’ was defended as an essential.
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