Weekly Wrap for July 18

For all the ongoing transformation in its structure and purpose, Godolphin has remained faithful to at least one original premise–and that is to promote the integration of different racing cultures. As a result, racegoers in Britain find themselves greatly indebted to the stable for introducing them to a young rider with every right, on the evidence of his present sojourn there, now to be considered one of the very best in the world.

That status is not proposed simply by parochial appointment, among those hitherto ignorant of the progress of Sheikh Mohammed's breeding and racing teams in Australia, and their characteristic investment in the brightest local talent. For far more significant than James McDonald's exposure to a different audience is his exposure to a different racing environment.

Another to have met the same challenge, in the same silks, was Kerrin McEvoy. But he first had to endure mistrust and outright disparagement, before developing the style and confidence to adapt his essence of class to the peculiar demands of the British racecourse. It is only very rarely that a rider who has made his name elsewhere proves able to transfer his skills as seamlessly as, say, Gary Stevens in his transatlantic migrations. Stevens, however, was a seasoned jockey in his absolute prime. McDonald is still just 24.

Of course, it could be argued that the New Zealander's success reflects not just his own versatility but a culpable deficiency in the local competition. The relatively consistent pace of British races permits jockeys to get away with a fairly coarse sense of timing. Very few could unspool fractions with the kind of precision McDonald showed the other day on Big Orange (GB) (Duke Of Marmalade {Ire}) when making all for a Group 2 success at the July Course–the eccentricities of which he again mastered with a treble on Saturday. At the same time, some of his other assets would draw out the best in any Thoroughbred, any time, any place. They plainly adore his velvet handling.

True, his flair has been helpfully magnified by the coincidence of William Buick's suspension, and the terrific form of Charlie Appleby's yard. And its ultimate test still awaits, at Goodwood. If he keeps getting the breaks round there, where so many doors seem to slide shut at just the wrong moment, then the only people to lament his return to Australia will be found in the weighing room.

Keep Tuned Into Radio…

Another antipodean gold standard was met on Saturday when Aidan O'Brien matched Tommy Smith's 279 G1 wins with the success of Seventh Heaven (Ire) (Galileo {Ire}) in the G1 Darley Irish Oaks. Admittedly their parity is in the spirit of the record books, rather than the letter, many of Smith's big wins having predated formal pattern status. But O'Brien himself will hardly quibble over any distinction shared with such a titan, not least when he remains entitled to extend his own tally for many years to come.

As at Epsom, Hugo Palmer again saw Architecture (Ire) (Zoffany {Ire}) surge into the lead before being cut down by a Ballydoyle filly. It is doubtless churlish to suggest that a £26,000 yearling who has finished second in two Classics over 12f might be running beyond her very best trip, but it might at least be interesting to see her tried over an intermediate distance.

Barely an hour earlier O'Brien had evoked the memory of a champion who consecutively contributed no fewer than seven of those 279 wins, remarking that Peace Envoy (Fr) (Power {GB}) reminded him somewhat of Rock Of Gibraltar (Ire) (Danehill) in winning the G3 Jebel Ali Racecourse Anglesey S. He certainly matches his quality with hardiness, this his sixth start since April, but he was possibly helped by the dangerously energetic style of the runner-up, Psychedelic Funk (GB) (Choisir {Aus}).

In the preliminaries you could not help being drawn by the contrast between the brawny odds-on favourite, in a crossed noseband and increasingly on his toes, and the sleepy, elegant 'TDN Rising Star' Radio Silence (War Front). Having made his debut only nine days earlier, Jim Bolger's colt looked a little flummoxed under pressure and a perfectly respectable fourth place, beaten three lengths, by no means registers the limit of his potential.

Time to Give Women Equality–With Les Femmes…

This week the Racing Post celebrated the 50th anniversary of Florence Nagle's landmark High Court victory against the Jockey Club's antediluvian refusal to award a training licence to a woman–the same day that it reported Pia Brandt as the latest of her sex to prove first among equals.

Whether or not feminine intuition was involved, it took something out of the ordinary to recognise that a son of Air Chief Marshall (Ire) (Danehill Dancer {Ire})–and only that speedy stallion's second listed winner–might reach his fulfilment over 12f in the G1 Juddmonte Grand Prix de Paris.

Thanks to the splendid perseverance shown by connections of Red Verdon (Lemon Drop Kid), we know that Mont Ormel (Fr) (Air Chief Marshall {Ire}) cannot yet be rated as highly as Harzand (Ire) (Sea The Stars {Ire}) or 'TDN Rising Star' Idaho (Ire) (Galileo {Ire}). But there can be little doubt over the authentic calibre of his Swedish trainer, who had only been denied an equivalent breakthrough by the inevitable Jean-Claude Rouget in the G1 Prix Saint-Alary in May.

However incredulous and outraged we fancy ourselves to be, in revisiting the arrant sexism of the Jockey Club in the 1960s, we cannot yet rest on our laurels. It seems no less scandalous, in this day and age, that there should not be a single woman in the top 50 trainers in the British prizemoney table. In France, the example of Criquette Head-Maarek, Miriam Bollack-Badel, Corine Barande-Barbe and now Mme Brandt, among others, would incline one to speak of two nations, and not two genders, in declaring: vive la difference!

On the Wrong Track…

It was hard to resist a bitter smile when reading that Ascot are now exploring the idea of running the G1 QIPCO Champion S. on the jumps course, in the hope of finding better going than you could sensibly expect in its present slot in the calendar. To those of us who deplore the insularity and vanity of the marketing interlopers responsible for the whole, maddening business, heavy going seems the least retribution they deserve.

It remains beyond belief that anyone with the faintest understanding of the international racing and bloodstock business would actively try to prevent European horses, having spent months establishing the local pecking order, from running at the Breeders' Cup. That is the blatant subtext of all the flag-waving for Champions' Day.

It is not the track that needs to be moved, but the date. Much else would have to be changed, even then. But a bit of adventure and imagination could still salvage the good intentions that have, after all, prompted extremely welcome sponsorship. As things stand, the whole enterprise sits far too comfortably with the cheap slogans and isolationism now dividing Britain on a much wider scale.