WORK EXPERIENCE: A day at Chepstow Racecourse

I WAS under starter’s orders and I was off – to Chepstow Racecourse.

Definitely the day’s longest traveller having jetted in from Malta 48 hours before, I was cautious soggy conditions would prevail for my dabble in raceday operations.

Following 165 millimetres of rain since June 1, the course was not in the best of shape, and neither was I, having demolished two weeks’ worth of fourstar meals.

The recent deluge meant the June 25 meeting had to pass a morning inspection to allow the horses their chance to shine.

But luckily the sun had its turn too – and I did not need to be withdrawn from proceedings before the day even started.

On meeting my trainer for the day, assistant clerk of the course Rachel Griffiths, I learned that it was her role, and now mine, to help the meeting run efficiently and smoothly.

Now those words can hardly describe the preparation for my racing column some weeks as I consult the form in the search for a winner.

Rachel and I went through her e-mails from Weatherbys, the sport’s administrative service, to cross out horses in the racecard which would not be arriving in Monmouthshire.

Unfortunately we learned the star attraction, who was to add to some interest to a pretty moderate weekday card, was one of them. The Queen’s Bank Bonus may not have made it to a Chepstow Racecourse stable – but another horse, Cyrus Sod, had made the journey from Newmarket overnight.

At around 11am, we checked with the stable manager if any others had arrived at the stable compound, which is fenced off like an army barracks for security. It was easy to imagine the busy scene on a feature raceday like the Welsh National.

On that day, Rachel, standing in the paddock, radios through to the stable if a horse is not in the paddock on time, so the public and TV viewers have the opportunity to assess their condition.

The course’s feature race is often run in a bog.

“Today’s conditions are going to be extreme for flat horses,” said her superior, clerk of the course Keith Ottesen. It seemed bizarre to say it given it was the height of summer.

I had made the line-up for the morning walk of the course, to check the ground conditions.

However, there was a little hurdle I had to overcome – my fashion shoes did not make the grade.

A quick search of the racecourse office for wellies by Rachel proved fruitless and I feared I may have already come unstuck (or become stuck in the mud for that matter).

“Chepstow’s sub-soil is heavy clay, it doesn’t drain that well,” Keith warned, handing me what resembled a walking stick.

I was told to poke it into the ground as we walked to appreciate the depth of the soil.

Sure enough, it was wet underfoot, although my feet luckily remained dry as most of the moisture had evaporated.

Holes, where half-a-ton of horse had galloped, had been filled in to give the grass a chance to grow.

We eventually walked five furlongs, which a sprinter would cover in around a minute.

As I was putting up overweight, it took considerably longer – I certainly needed the run.

Bookmaker Andy Smith looked like he was in form, as he arrived on course clutching a wad of notes.

The old theory is bookmakers never lose, but he soon put me right.

“It costs us a lot to come racing these days,” he puffed, talking me through his bookmaking system.

I was soon taking charge of the Festival Racing computer, as I fed in the information about the money we were taking on each horse.

“This machine has taken away the skill of bookmaking.

It used to be much more of a man’s industry,”

he said. I took note as his daughter Jessica piled the notes into his satchel, but they were soon on their way back out as the wellbacked second favourite Asker won race two.

In between the maths lessons, I had the chance to haul myself up around four flights of stairs to watch each race with the clerks of the course.

It was a terrific view of the beautiful venue and a lookout for the stewards, who make sure each race is run properly.

They also have the benefit of televised coverageand that was the key in race one when eventual winner James Pollard and hot favourite Hamilton Hill came close together in the closing stages.

The stewards, talking to their colleagues downstairs across a telephone, decided a stewards’ inquiry would be called.

I had a go at picking up the phone to make the decision, and it was dramatic as the course waited to hear whether the placings would be reversed.

While they were not, female rider Alice Haynes was found guilty of careless riding, in that she allowed her gelding to drift right, and cautioned her about conduct in future races.

Mr Smith certainly wasn’t happy with the results – by race three he had lost £700.

I left him to try to claw back his losses as I was taken to a truck in the middle of the racecourse.

Driven by head groundsman Adam Jones, it follows the race and he makes sure everything is fine from a safety perspective.

If a jockey or horse is injured, clerk of the course Mr Ottesen radios across and tells him to put the screens up. He also has a whistle to attract the attention of the jockeys if there is an incident. We followed race five, a seven-furlong race. This was not the quickest of contests, given the distance and the quality of runners, yet the speedometer was still brushing 45mph.

It was a thrilling experience charging along the path on the inside of the course and I watched to see all the horses finish safe and sound.

I stepped out of the vehicle and saw the runners, some hardly breaking sweat, return to be unsaddled and washed down.

As I wobbled across the course, due to aching feet and not the excess holiday food, I was greeted with a flustered Mr Smith who said he had nearly retrieved the money he had lost, from the last race.

Pretending I understood the maths behind it, I nooded as he said if the second had won a profit would have been his – but it was not to be.

So it was back to the Argus newsroom for me.

Slightly frazzled from the sun and all the trotting around the course, I felt pleased the staff at the course did not make me feel like an outsider.

It was that enjoyable I am already planning my next horse-racing work experience, so watch this space...