The jockey's life
The Grand National, which is run today at Aintree, is the greatest jump race in the world – and the most terrifying. With horses running full pelt at 30 five-foot fences, it is an unparalleled test of equine and human courage. Animal rights protesters loathe it, but even critics of the race should recognise the bravery (or is it insanity?) of the 40 jockeys who, at 4.15pm, will launch themselves into the unknown. At least a third of them are likely to finish on the floor.
Injuries are an inevitable part of life for jump jockeys. The handsome features of 24-year-old Sam Thomas, who won the Cheltenham Gold Cup last year on Denman, carry scars that map his meteoric career. “My face has been bashed up through different falls. I did this one two months ago at Hereford,” he says, pointing to the prominent indentation on his nose. “But it’s better than breaking bones.”
“You know the pitfalls and you know you’re going to get hurt at some point,” says 26-year-old Tom Scudamore, whose grandfather Michael won the National on Oxo in 1959 and whose father Peter was champion jump jockey eight times. “It’s in the back of your mind, but if it comes to the front of your mind, it’s time to give up.” Scudamore has had eight rides in the National, falling three times, pulling up – stopping because the horse was tiring and had no chance of a place – twice, and finishing the four-and-a-half-mile course three times. Never mind winning, just getting round in the National is an achievement.
Robert “Chocolate” Thornton, who is currently third in the jockeys championship, admits his record in the National is “moderate”. “I’ve ridden 12 times, have probably got about a 30% get-round record, and the best I’ve ever done is fifth,” he says. What’s the secret of getting round? “A lot of luck. If you’re having a good ride it’s brilliant, there’s no better place to be. But if you’re in the middle of six loose horses [horses which have unshipped their jockeys but carried on galloping with the field regardless], it can be the worst place in the world.”
Christian Williams, a brash, self-confident 25-year-old from Bridgend, did better than just finish. He came second on Royal Auclair in 2005, though he claims not to remember the year. Being beaten means the achievement isn’t etched on his memory. “I finished second and I don’t like losing,” he explains. Williams, who originally wanted to be a rugby player, comes from that tough sporting school where second is nowhere.
Irish-born Aidan Coleman, racing’s 20-year-old rising star, rode in his first National last year and finished tenth on Mon Mome. Tenth has none of the frustrations of second, and he says he enjoyed every moment. “When you’re young, you’re mad to jump big things, and you always wanted to ride in the National,” he says. “To do it in my first season riding was a dream come true.” Back Coleman now to one day ride the winner in the race.
It’s not just the falls that make jump racing tough. Jockeys have to diet ferociously to keep their weight down to around 10st; they do a huge amount of travelling; and only the top jockeys – those who have 50 or more winners a year – earn a comfortable living, derived from prize money in the races they win or from retainers with leading owners. The rest get by on payments of £140 each time they ride, and the occasional bonus from a win or a place. The sport’s “journeymen” – fine and fearless riders who don’t get the chance to ride the best horses – will earn around £50,000 a year, minus deductions for agents’ fees, payments to valets (who look after the equipment and racing silks) and travel costs.
Mattie Batchelor, who is 32 and has been a professional jockey since he was 17, has ridden just eight winners this year, but he’s still in love with the sport. “Good horses are few and far between for someone like me, but when you get on one it’s nice to ride them. At the end of the day, if you asked any of the jockeys in the weighing room, we’d go out and do it for free because we love the sport so much.”
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