For as long as I can remember, the first Saturday in April was always a day dedicated to the National, (as it is in many households around Britain and beyond- it's popularity is evidently vast all around the globe) despite my family having no interest in the sport otherwise. £1 stake bets would be placed each way on the morning of the race. Come post time numerous members of my family assembled in the lounge, all waiting in anticipation for the famous Aintree cavalry charge to the first. Years went by and this tradition remained unchanged, however, aged 11 was when I became more intrigued, 100-1 shot Mon Mome strode clear at the elbow under Liam Treadwell to notch a famous victory, passing the line a cloud of silence fell over Aintree as the nation attempted to comprehend such a result- the National will never be predictable, unlike other sporting events, this is part of its ageless appeal. However it was the following year when my perspective on the great race really began to change, again, thanks to one special horse who will always remain in my memory- Black Apalachi. Ironically, the story of the race was AP McCoy winning his first Grand National, yet all that seemed to concern me was the dark horse leading most of the way, relentlessly galloping from each obstacle, measuring them well and refusing to be denied. I was astonished by the horses ability and mesmerised by his sustained power, my eyes tracked him the entire race, still shouting when McCoy took Don't Push It past. I was so proud of him, yet before that day I had no clue such an animal even existed. In a paragraph, this is what the race means to me, personally: admiring the bravery of both jockey and horse. (I would also happily like to add that Black Apalachi is now enjoying his retirement in Galway and gets '5 star treatment' according to Sandra Hughes, daughter of trainer D T Hughes.)
My hero- Black Apalachi, who battled his way to a brave 2nd place in the 2010 renewal of the Grand National with Denis O'Regan aboard. |
However, I have always been aware of the contrasting view, as in 2012 my mother and sister gasped in horror as they saw the green screens surrounding areas of the course, tears falling down their face as they realised what was occurring on the television before them. As a horse owner myself, and passionate follower of racing, the horses welfare is paramount to me, and in each incident in which a horse is fatally injured I feel the same gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach, the epitome of sorrow, as I did the previous time. This shows the power of the sport, because it never stops me from watching the next race and is something some lovers of horse racing sadly become increasingly desensitised to. Over the years as I have realised the extent of the publics' importance, the entire aura around the 'cruelty to animals' lark has frustrated me (understandably as a fan). Particularly when people of my age resorted to Facebook to air their concerns "It's unfair, horses are whipped until they die" and "I hate horse racing, it deserves to be banned completely". Their logic bemused me- for people whom only watch the same race each year, have no knowledge of the sport, the procedures taken and crucially the love for the animals involved, and base that opinion on around 5 days of their life (the past 5 Nationals) sickens me. In an aspect it highlights the single-minded nature to which our society has willingly succumbed. I understand a lot of people are professionally attempting to alter the race with the horses' needs in mind, and I truly respect this, as these people are not uneducated in the manner of the game and are working in co-operation with Aintree and the BHA for a positive outcome. And with no fatalities or injuries in 2013 (as Auroras Encore came home in front), it appears to have made a difference, which is excellent. I hope the relationship between organisations remains as it is now as the Grand National, rightfully named, deserves to continue to provide sentiment by the bucket load, year in year out to those who watch it for the right reasons.