Special report: Horseplay
Colt of the course
Despite the financial pinch the Karachi Race Club currently finds itself in, horse racing on a Sunday is a tradition that is still alive and buzzing
— by Anwar Zuberi
“Sher Dil! Sher Dil!,” shouts the crowd at the Karachi Race Club (KRC). It is just past 3.30pm on the third Sunday of May and Sher Dil has just trotted out to the starting gate, standing tall among his competitors. With the second race of the day just about to begin, Mohammed Shakir, a low-paid employee of the KRC, predicts with near certainty: “Sher Dil should win this easily.” At eight stones and nine pounds, Sher Dil is indeed a colt of magnificent beauty.
Riding Sher Dil today is ‘riding boy’, Hakim AIi, but Shakir’s focus is on the horse, not the jockey. Such is Shakir’s belief in Sher Dil that he has, quite literally, put his money where his mouth is and placed a bet on the colt. Just a few minutes ago, however, Shakir was narrating tales of financial hardship at home.
“Why waste money on placing a bet?” I ask Shakir.
“You’ll see,” comes the curt retort.
“BOOM!”
“And they’re off!” booms the loudspeaker on the pavilion, announcing the start of the day’s race. The crowd is loud. The horses, each a beautiful stallion in its own right, gallop forward. The crowd chants louder, supporting their favourite equine. Sher Dil’s fans shout the loudest.
The horses turn the bend for home stretch. They are watched very closely by the judges, who are riding in a jeep in a lane adjacent to the main race track. Punters in the main stand and those watching the race on a television screen in the betting area also join in the cheering. Sher Dil, it seems, is their favourite too.
The race isn’t even close. Sher Dil has won comfortably. There is elation all around. “I told you Sher Dil will win,” boasts Shakir. “Being odds on favourite, I have played it, and thank God, it has won.”
Around the stands, it is easy to tell who has bet money and indeed, who has won and who has lost. This isn’t the last race of the day, of course — there are three more still to go. Those with the grimmest faces know there is still a chance of breaking even.
But there is tense silence too: before dashing to the turf accountants outside the pavilion, punters have to wait for a bell. Once it rings, the race will be declared as having formally concluded. There will be more drama if the bell doesn’t ring.
But ring it does, to loud applause from Sher Dil’s fans.
Shakir too heads to the turf accountant he placed his bet with to collect his winnings. His was a calculated bet, placed with inside knowledge and after assessing a horse’s racing potential. Gambling this way — “careful and calculated” — helps Shakir with his cash flow; winnings supplement the pittance he currently receives from his employers.
The art of betting
Betting, as is the traditional wisdom among gamblers, is an addiction.
Some KRC punters have been regulars for over half a century, some have even witnessed the golden era of horse racing, widely believed to be soon after partition. Some were even there when Mohtarma Fatima Jinnah used to distribute trophies at the Quaid-i-Azam Gold Cup.
Most veterans bet on selected races. A person can bet a minimum amount of Rs500 per race in the betting ring, but of course there is no formal upper cap to how much they are allowed to bet. Shakir walks me to the betting booths, constructed outside the main stadium but next to the VIP parking lot. Some 13 — 15 booths exist in a long passageway, all inviting punters to place a bet with them. Most offer fluctuating odds on each race; these odds are updated on a little blackboard hung onto the grill windows of a booth.
A betting booth is usually a cramped space, occupied and manned by two or three staffers called “turf accountants”. One completes financial transactions, another keeps all books updated, while another updates all odds on races.
Around the booths, Shakir meets some other colleagues of the KRC. Shakir is not the only one forced to turn to betting; other KRC colleagues face the same twist of fate every Sunday.
The exchange between Shakir and his preferred turf accountant is quick. Few words are spoken, a receipt is exchanged, and money is returned. There are, of course, many others waiting in queue for their turn; they are almost always the same ones who wait anxiously for the moment a race is opened by the turf accountants, and have opted for the best possible odds. The objective, after all, is to double or triple winnings.
At a separate computerised section, called ‘Tote’, people can bet Rs100 on the would-be winners of the day’s racing card. There are Tote variations too: Double Tote, to predict the first and second winners; and Triple Tote, to predict the first three of a race.
“At least four punters out of every 20 will return home happy. The rest will have long faces,” says veteran jockey and two-time Quaid-i-Azam Gold Cup champion, 71-year-old Jahangir Ali.
Going to the races
The KRC of course has seen many lives twist and turn, every Sunday, since its inception.
Any equine lover can visit the KRC to witness horse races, but they should budget a minimum of Rs1,000 per person for each trip if they plan to place a bet. Five horse races are now hosted for punters and enthusiasts, usually on Sundays. Races are only suspended during the last 10 days of Ramazan and for a fortnight in Muharram.
At present, the entrance ticket costs Rs300, of which Rs200 goes to the provincial government and Rs70 to the cantonment board, leaving KRC with a measly Rs30 per ticket. The KRC guide book costs Rs80; it contains previous results, track record of horses, and other relevant details. Then there is some spend on meals during the five or six hours at the races.
Prior to its relocation in 1988 to the current venue — on the outskirts of Karachi and close to Malir Cantonment — races remained suspended for a prolonged time. Available records shows that the present site, spread over 245.1 acres, was acquired in 1964 on a 99-years lease. The first race at the present KRC was held in 1989. Major construction work, including spectator’s stands, racing tracks, and other facilities, was carried out by the then chairman Yousuf Dada.
At present, the race course is a dirt track. Parallel to the main track is a separate dirt track, meant for the officiating stewards’ car. Dotted around the main course are patches of green, some shrubs, and some trees in the background.
Stars of the show
The main attractions at any race are of course stallions and mares, but there are others stars in the supporting cast too: horse groomers, instructors and trainers, jockeys, and dressage riders, among others.
A thoroughbred horse costs at least Rs800,000 while a half-bred can be bought for about Rs500,000 to Rs600,000. “Approximately Rs30,000 are incurred every month on maintaining a racing horse. This cost usually covers diet, the stable fee and remuneration for a groomer,” says active horse owner, Kamal Farooq.
There are approximately 200 registered owners at the KRC. Registered horses number around 225, of which active horses are approximately 80 to 90. The KRC has 600 stables for those who want to avail the facility.
A rider earns Rs600 for every ride; the rider and trainer are each entitled to 10 percent of the winnings. There are currently 47 riders and riding boys, and 40 trainers registered with the KRC.
From saddling stables to the starting gate
The horses are assembled separately in the saddling stables along with their groomers some 45 minutes before the start of a race. From here, they walk to the paddock one by one, where they have a round or two of trotting around before an audience of punters at the railings.
In the meantime, the riders — all dressed up and with their gear on — head from the jockey’s room to the scale room, where an official carries out checks for appropriate weight and classification. The riders then saddle up in the paddock, and begin their journey to the starting gate.
At the starting gate, the horses are placed as per their allotted numbers. An open-top jeep (which carries the stewards and judges) and an ambulance travel alongside the main course in every race. Sometimes the stallions stutter, sometimes there is a false start — at all times, race stewards are meant to keep a sharp eye for any irregularities.
Once a race concludes, it is mandatory for riders who stand in the first to fourth positions to get themselves re-weighed. This exercise is not mere formality: it is to reassess whether a rider has cheated during a race, an occurrence that happens from time to time. Once all riders have been cleared, the scale room in-charge rings a bell to signal the formal clearance and conclusion of a race.
‘Sleight of hand, twist of fate’
The KRC has upheld a glorious tradition of horse racing in Karachi since Partition, but has also witnessed innumerable tales of greed and desire, of fickle wealth and instant poverty. What bettors don’t often know is that some changes in fortune are rigged: “The races are being manoeuvred from the top as most stewards also own horses,” alleges an old hand, who asked to remain anonymous, but who has been associated with horse racing for almost half-a-century.
Racing stewards in horse racing are the officials who control the running of a horse race and enforce the relevant rules and regulations. From physically monitoring a race to detailed inspection on video replays, stewards essentially govern the game. They investigate, conduct hearings, and hand down sentences.
When steward duties are assumed by horse owners, it is tantamount to letting a select few players to cheat their way to victory.
There are many secret tricks of the trade, including passing instructions to riders over the phone at the starting gate, pulling a horse to slow it down during the race, or worse of all, not even making an attempt at winning — a phenomenon called “try and no try”, that has become all too common in the racing circuit these days.
The “try and no try” sets the trend for a race: since punters have already gathered information on which horses are galloping to win and which ones aren’t, they bet on horses that are backed by connections, irrespective of their form.
Jahangir Ali also points to the “in and out running” of horses (losing one day but winning the next), with those guilty of cheating going scot-free. The former jockey speaks from experience: he has won accolades from the sport, as well as lucre.
Such manipulation has seen the fall of in-form horses, despite their good track records, and mayhem among the punters — both in the stands as well as the betting ring.
Many regular visitors to the KRC argue that the entire ring of deception can be nipped if eminent equine sport lovers serve the role of racing stewards, rather than horse owners. “If we can bring in independent stewards, it will help with the credibility of the sport, it’ll help build confidence among horse racing enthusiasts that races will always be fair and square,” says the old timer.
State of apathy
The KRC has had to lay off approximately 150 employees since 2008 to overcome financial constraints. By doing so, they have tried to save around Rs10 million annually. But it is all coming at a very heavy price: those still in a job are heavily underpaid, most have had no increments made to their salaries for the last three years. Turf accountants, considered the backbone of equestrian sport, have drastically fallen in number: only 12-14 remain from 30-40 just a few years ago. It is abundantly clear that the institution needs an immediate revamp in all spheres.
Then there’s the equipment: the starting gate and photo-finish camera have become old, and need urgent replacement. The race course could attract greater number of families in the audience if floodlights are installed and boxes and enclosures for families created.
Much can be done to restore old prestige of the club by concentrating on horse riders and horses too. Riders often receive severe, and sometimes fatal, injuries during races, but there is no life insurance for them.
Promising rider Abdul Aziz II was severely injured after falling from Optimism in the third race held on Dec 25, 2011. He succumbed to his injuries after remaining in a coma for three weeks. He was just 19 and the only son of rider-turned-trainer M. Mazhar. Despite over two years since Aziz’s tragic demise, his contemporaries are still waiting to get their lives insured.
And then there are the superstars: the horses.
The KRC has a veterinary doctor who looks after horses and injects drips and vitamins, as and when needed, to keep all stallions fit and healthy for racing. But if a horse ever gets a leg fractured or is seriously injured while racing, he is euthanised and buried in a nearby graveyard. A horse suffering from an incurable disease also meets the same fate.
Some years ago, the KRC would sell horses it was unable to treat. The idea was for the stallion to receive adequate care and treatment that the KRC was unable to provide. But the KRC had to enforce an embargo on selling horses to outsiders, according to a KRC source, speaking on condition of anonymity, after it was discovered that KRC’s injured horses were slaughtered and their meat was used in cooking nihari.
For lovers of horses and equine sports, such a situation is a travesty. Without the glorious horses to bet on, men like Shakir wouldn’t be able to take a dime home.
The writer is a staff reporter. zuberijournalist@yahoo.com
Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, June 1st, 2014
Exit the firang, exit Pakistani equinity
After the Bhutto-era ban on horse racing, the entire horse breeding industry took a hit, leading to the exodus of the foreign jockeys and breeders who had contributed to the equine industry
—by Aftab Gilani
There was a time, not too long ago, when Pakistan and the Shah Jewna and Renala studs were synonymous: the mere mention of these horse breeds would spark discussions of the vibrant equinity scene in Pakistan. There was talk of fancy stables, there were tales of legendary riders and trainers, there were equine superstars on the circuit too. But with the gradual exit of foreigners from Pakistan, the equinity scene has been badly hit: gone is the interest in horse flesh and the professionalism brought by foreigners. Gone too are the glory days.
It is said that the golden age of horse racing and breeding in Pakistan was soon after Partition. From 1947 to 1977, Karachi, then known as a serene city of lights, and Lahore, regarded the city of learning and gardens, had been the leading centres of horse-racing in the country. Both these cities were considered happy hunting grounds for English jockeys and trainers, who made occasional visits to both centres.
Some English jockeys and trainers and two from Sri Lanka had settled in the country temporarily, making Pakistan their second home. Prominent among the English jockeys of that time were: M. Eude, who later took to training, Bill Alford, F.K. Black, Charlie Gaston, Cris Fownes, A. Shrive and P. Maden. The leading home jockeys of the time included Faiz Mohammad, S. Laloo, Noor Dar, U.G. Sheikh, Asif Malik, Khadim Hussain, Hanif Kalia and Imran.
This synergy between foreign and local was beneficial: not only did the participation of foreign professionals hand a tremendous boost to equine sports, there was skills transfer as well. It was these foreign riders and trainers who provided locals with valuable technical knowhow and experience to locals, who in turn, would learn from their English counterparts and compete against them.
“During the glory days, the nawabs, maharajas, big landlords, big businessmen, industrial tycoons and high officials all owned horses. It used to be an honour to rub shoulders with them, and that was only possible at the races,” says veteran jockey Syed Baboo.
Over the last three decades, however, a malaise has set in: there is a critical shortage of good professional riders and trainers in Pakistan. Without the firang factor, something has gone amiss.
In the early 1960s, the Karachi Race Club (KRC) set up a school for the training of riding boys under the administrative control of the then KRC secretary, Fazal Khan, which produced dozens of riders. Khan was a former jockey who had trained at the Bombay School of Riding, and had a brief experience of riding in races before coming here. The same school had produced some of the all-time leading jockeys, including P.R. Khade and Jagdish. A couple of Pakistani jockeys were also trained at Bombay School.
Trainers in those days were predominantly English: Tymon, Captain Fownes, F.J. Marrs, K.L. Smith, as well as Sri Lankan R. Selvaratnam and D.J. Selvaratnam, who had migrated from India, all made their name as legendary trainers of the circuit. Prominent local trainers of the time included M. Zaman, Shaukat Ali Baig, Aziz Khan, K. Peshambey, A.U. Khan, M.H. Shah, Aslam Poshni, Haji Dost Mohammad and Ghulam Sarwar.
And it wasn’t just equine sports that bore the brunt of the English leaving: the Pakistani horse racing and breeding sector was brutalised in 1977, after the Zulfikar Ali Bhutto government succumbed to pressure from the parties of the Pakistan National Alliance (PNA) and slapped a ban on horse racing in the country. This, in turn, crippled the practice of horse breeding.
Horse breeding in Pakistan had flourished ever since independence, carrying on from a glorious pre-Partition tradition. Even before venturing into South Asia, the English had been obsessed with thoroughbred horses; Arabian horses would always be preferred because breed lineage was more accurately recorded and preserved over centuries. As the English moved to areas they had colonised, they also began to discover and encourage equine lovers to start breeding horses.
By 1910, the Indian Subcontinent was flush with horse breeding, especially in areas that were more suitable thanks to their favourable soil and climatic conditions. Colonial times saw the military take key interest in equinity, but slowly and surely, fans turned the horse breeding sector into an industry. Foreign pedigreed mares and stallions, often with English and Irish bloodlines, were imported and bred.
Perhaps the greatest industry in the horse breeding sector was shown by breeders who saw the potential of various bloodlines, and decided to mix imported and home bloodlines. This created bloodlines that later became indigenous to Pakistan. A sterling contribution was made to horse breeding by the Renala Estates, Shah Jewna Stud Farm, Pir Pagaro Stud Farm, Khuzar Abad Stud, Leghari Stud Green Field Stud and Baig Stud in the private sector. In the public sector, Remount Depot, Mona Government Sahiwal Breeding, and Chenab Breeding all played a key role.
The Renala Estates were propelled to prominence by an English couple, Mr and Mrs Taylor. Mr Taylor was an eminent veterinarian; before arriving to South Asia, he had served as the chief of the Royal Stables in England. Mr and Mrs Taylor mixed the Nasrullah and Naerco bloodlines with other breeds to produce quality thoroughbreds. These horses proved a premier breed, reigning supreme over Pakistani racecourses in classic horse races.
Shah Jewna Stud owner, Syed Abid Hussain, is recognised to have played a pioneering role in horse breeding too: he imported high class sires from England and used them to produce elite thoroughbreds. The sires he imported were celebrated and classy: Prince Choice by Nearco, Blue Notes, Blue Peter, and Toomai, a son of Epson Derby winner My Love. In 1960, he brought La Pretendant, son of Ocean Swell from England that was previously owned by Sir Winston Churchill.
Within three decades after Partition, Pakistani stud farms were acknowledged as among the best, positioned to compete with Asian horse racing giants.
Jockey Club of Pakistan (JCP) records state that by 1977, over three dozen stud farms across the country were engaged in breeding, producing over 800 mares and 71 stallions. Renala Estates was the premier source, with 150 broodmares and eight stallions. In second place was the Remount Depot, with 78 broodmares and 14 stallions. Shah Jewna was third, with 40 broodmares and five stallions — of which a majority were from Nearco.
But then came the ban.
Enthusiasts believe that horse racing and horse breeding are two wheels of a sports chariot; one’s survival is impossible without the other. Most stud farms had to be closed down after a ban on horse racing. By the end of 1977, the chapter of foreign trainers and jockeys was closed forever too, as foreigners packed up one by one and left — starting a continuous downward slide of equinity that Pakistan hasn’t been able to recover from.
Although racing was revived after a couple of years, the damage done to horse breeding by the ban was colossal. Some 12 stud farms were not able to survive the setback; the remaining two dozen continued breeding but at a very limited scale. By 1983, only about 18 stud farms were left functioning. There were only 300 mares and 24 stallions in total — about one-third of the strength achieved by 1977.
Devoted equine lovers continue to up their efforts in an attempt to stop the breeding industry from going extinct. During the past decade, there has been a noticeable shift to the Northern Dancer line, which traces its lineage to the Northern Dancer-Nearctic-Nearco bloodline.
The Northern Dancer-Nearctic-Nearco was actually a Canadian stallion, whose influence has spread far and wide, to the extent that most stud keepers have imported sires and mares with his direct and indirect bloodline bearing. While the bloodlines of Danzig, El Goran Senor, Sadler’s Wells, Mr Prospector and Blushing Groom were also brought, they were mixed with that of Northern Dancer’s.
As things stand, the JCP list of registered stud farms now number 64. But there is no proper school or academy for the training of riders. Most lads who join the stables enter as stable boys but are then left to the mercy of senior riders. The fortunate ones are usually assigned track work duty; the most fortunate ones start their riding careers as an apprentice, moving up the ladder to become a riding boy and then a jockey.
Without government support, however, Pakistani horses, horse breeders, and equine sports are destined for failure. It is almost as if equinity only lived and breathed with the firang. Ever since their departure, equity has been orphaned.
Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, June 1st, 2014