Life with Rosie

by Helen Thomas

  ‘I train for the breeder, so I’ve got to keep my wits about me,’ he tells me.

  Surely that should make things easier? Then I think it through: if he shows too much interest in the youngster before the actual sale, the breeder might arrange to have another bidder present to push the price up. No wonder he’s keeping a low profile for an hour or so before Lot 612 enters the ring.

  I meet up with the trainer again in the parade ring behind the main auditorium as he tries to have one last look at the filly without attracting the breeder’s attention. He explains that as well as being a well-conformed daughter of emerging stallion Hold That Tiger, she also represents value for a client who’s looking for a potential broodmare as well as a racehorse. This filly fits both bills.

  ‘This could be a strong family to be a part of,’ Robbie explains.

  He looks at me with sudden interest.

  ‘Have you ever bid on a horse?’ he asks.

  I assure him I have, though not a yearling.

  ‘How do you feel about bidding on this one?’

  I laugh, then realise he’s serious as we position ourselves in his usual spot inside, this time tucking himself behind the wall as the filly enters the ring.

  ‘Just follow my cue and keep going until I tell you to stop,’ he says, that lopsided grin easing my obvious sense of alarm. Is this a good idea? I ask myself and perhaps more significantly, is there any chance I’ll actually have to sign the sales slip?

  ‘OK,’ I reply and wait for Robbie’s cue to jump in. He has the potential owner on the mobile and he nods for me to make our first bid, at $40,000.

  I try to adopt the laidback stance of someone who has spent a vast sum of money on an untrained, untried, unknown young thoroughbred before, casually holding my sales catalogue in one hand.

  And nodding, no sudden movements here, to make the next bid of $60,000.

  Then again at $80,000.

  And $100,000.

  Until the actual amount I am indicating we are willing to spend no longer means anything tangible. It’s a game, kind of like Monopoly, yet I’m playing with Robbie and we’re dead-set centre stage and the adrenalin rush of knowing I hold what looks like the final bid at $140,000 is amazing.

  But just as I fall into Successful Yet Still Relaxed Buyer’s Mode, our main competitor gets cagey and halves his next bid.

  ‘$145,000,’ the auctioneer cries and suddenly, seriously, all eyes are on me.

  Simon Vivian, the man with the hammer in his hand, is leaning forward in the auction box looking at me, hands literally outstretched, imploring me for just one more bid. I hold what I hope is a resolute yet dignified pose, waiting for Robbie’s instruction.

  ‘Half,’ he says softly and I raise my palm, indicating another bid of $5000.

  ‘$150,000!’ the auctioneer says, turning back to the centre of the ring, ‘$150,000!!’

  Somehow I sense this is the magic number, our magic number, not to mention a limit of sorts. The hammer comes down and the filly is ours.

  Robbie’s owner is obviously pleased because the trainer’s grin widens as he emerges from behind the wall to sign the sale docket.

  ‘Thanks for that, you did great,’ he says.

  ‘No worries,’ I laugh. ‘It was fun.’

  And let’s face it, it wasn’t my money. Robbie heads off for a drink and I head for the car park. Along the way a number of people congratulate me on my purchase.

  ‘Good luck with her, she’s a lovely filly,’ one woman remarks.

  ‘She certainly is,’ another man says, as I walk out the door. ‘I had my eye on her too.’

  In this world there is no higher praise.

  Chapter 9

  Grand theories

  As most of the key players reassemble for the fourth and final day of the sale, it feels like some kind of strange marathon event and I realise if I’m feeling tired, as an interested observer, those whose business this is must be completely worn out—especially as Session Two traditionally heralds bargain day for trainers and would-be owners with less expansive budgets.

  But will this really be the case here today, given that prices have already dipped in the main part of the sale? How different can these youngsters be in terms of quality and type? The crowd looks pretty much as it did yesterday, with many of the same faces, which must be reassuring for those offering yearlings for sales across the day.

  Pondering these intangibles, I bump into a genuine pioneer in Australia’s racing and breeding arena. Shelley Hancox paved the way for women covering racing in the national media. She was a journalist writing about racing at The Age newspaper a couple of decades ago and was the first woman of racing radio, too, although these days she’s best known nationally as a successful racehorse syndicator.

  This involves buying yearlings at sales around Australia and then offering them for sale to large groups, or syndicates, of owners—usually between 10 and 20 shareholders—who race them with various trainers in cities around the country.

  She is renowned as a terrific equine judge and has chosen several very good gallopers. Shelley offers a cheap way into racing for many people who couldn’t afford to do it otherwise. She is also one of Australian racing’s great characters and I had known her since I was a young reporter at The Age, and even been part of one of her smaller syndicates. I’m delighted to see her again this morning. For some reason she’s not as happy to see me and pretends not to notice me as she heads for the bathroom door.

  It’s a crafty maneouvre, but laughing I say ‘Hi’ anyway. She gives in to a quick social exchange with relative good grace. Acerbic at the best of times, Shelley naturally has a few things to say about this auction.

  ‘There are a lot of unsound horses out there, real rubbish,’ she declares. And yet, she says she has bought ten so far and I expect she has her eye on at least a couple today?

  ‘It’s balanced back up now,’ she counters. ‘They’ve been selling strongly this morning.’

  Not willing to reveal exactly which particular young horses she has her eye on, she will say her sale favourite has been a Starcraft filly who went for $150,000.

  Like God’s Own, Starcraft is one of the stallions making his sales debut this year, an exceptionally good-looking and internationally credentialled horse many expect to become a top sire. The God’s Own yearlings, on the other hand, Shelley has absolutely no time for.

  ‘They’re big, heavy things,’ she declares. ‘And people are paying too much for them,’ she adds, just for good measure.

  ‘No good, Shell?’ I ask.

  ‘Nooo,’ she says, and with a shake of her head, wheels out of the bathroom and back to work, sales catalogue under her arm. I decide not to mention this discussion to Robbie, at least until his mob of ‘big, heavy things’ leave the premises and head home.

  But it’s an interesting exchange, and one that highlights the broad range of opinion that drives these auctions. What looks strong and correct to one buyer appears completely different to another; a pedigree that barely passes muster with one expert will sing to another would-be purchaser. The old adage about beauty and the beholder’s eye is never more obvious than at a horse sale.

  This is also the reason why taxi driver Joe Janiak managed to snare an unraced three year old at a winter auction in Sydney for just $1250. No one else wanted the gelding, who seemed to have suspect legs. But Joe saw something else in the horse, named him Takeover Target and together they travelled the world, winning at Flemington and Randwick and Ascot, in front of the Queen. Great horses come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of price tags.

  As I walk back into the main auditorium, I see that Shelley is right. Suddenly, it’s more crowded and bidding seems much more brisk than even 10 minutes before as I take a seat to watch for the next hour. But there’s definitely a price difference in effect.

  Two nice colts by relatively young sires Kempinsky and Al Samer are sold for $15,000 and $10,000; the next, a daughter of another freshman stallion,
Snitzel, is passed in at $22,000, followed by a daughter of God’s Own passed over at $32,500. It isn’t hard to see why the vendors wanted more for this girl, given her lovely family. Then again, how do you break even, let alone make a profit, if you take them home?

  Little wonder a current of anxiety throbs just below the surface of this fantastic, romantic theatre—and unmistakable strain shows on many faces. Most involved certainly don’t share Robbie Griffiths’ calm, reflective demeanour. The more people you talk to around this sale ring, the more conversations you listen to, you can’t help but overhear the different perspectives in this industry, not to mention the vastly different financial realities that become clear.

  But one key thread links many of the key players, buyers and sellers alike, and it is not an especially attractive one: their approach to breeding suggests they see horses more as inanimate objects to invest in rather than living, breathing animals who could well earn them a fortune.

  The way some of these people talk, mares and stallions are nothing more than stock to be worked and traded and thrown away if their profit margin isn’t strong enough. The main aim might once have been to produce the best offspring for racing, but that isn’t necessarily the case now. More often than not, the main goal seems to be to produce the best possible investment outcome. Bugger the horses.

  To further darken my mood, I bump into one of Australia’s most experienced yearling managers—let’s call him Stuart—a professional who makes his living breeding and selling at the major sales across the country. He is having a mixed result at this sale and has no doubt about why. And it’s not just the economic climate worldwide that’s hurting him.

  Stuart believes that most Australian studs actually ruin the young stallions they are responsible for and, therefore, the hopes and dreams of owners who send mares to them. He says not only don’t they stick with them through the early years of their careers in the breeding barn, they actually have no understanding of the importance of promoting them at the start of their stud duties. This means too many get off to a poor start and don’t get enough mares visiting them in those crucial early years.

  So they don’t have the numbers of progeny on the track to compete with the large number of other young stallions from the mega-studs and tend to just fade away, if not disappear completely from the main game. Naturally, this makes their progeny hard to sell.

  ‘Most of these people wouldn’t know how to build a stallion, let alone a roster of stallions, if their lives depended on it—and, actually, their livelihoods do,’ Stuart tells me, as we lean against a wall at the back of the sales venue. ‘Most of their stallion rosters lack real depth anyway, and the one or two good young stallions they do get their hands on they ruin because they don’t know how to get the mare owners’ attention.

  ‘So attracting a strong broodmare band for their good young sires is next to impossible. And most breeders don’t want to take a chance on a sire who might not crack it with his first or second crop of youngsters on the racetrack because, like any investor, they want to be sure they are getting maximum value for the money they are spending.

  ‘So if they can afford it, they stick with the half a dozen or so stallions that regularly produce winners, because that makes selling their offspring much easier. The hard fact of life is that this destroys the career of many young stallions who could have been successful if they had been managed better when they started out. It really is as simple as that.’

  To make matters worse, Stuart believes that many stallion man-agers aren’t skilled enough to physically handle the horses they work with, and so many mares aren’t covered well and as a result, don’t get in foal. Naturally this is a significant blow for all concerned.

  But even if all goes right with the mating, this horseman—who has been working in this arena for a good 40 years—says that making a clear profit from these assignations is virtually impossible, especially for small breeders like me. The most popular stallions, those regularly boasting bookings of more than 120 broodmares each season, quickly satisfy demand at yearling auctions because their progeny usually come from top quality mares.

  This means that any horse a small owner breeds is pretty much destined to fall between the cracks at these sales—no matter how good a type of horse they are physically, no matter how clever their pedigree. As we are seeing here at this auction, breeders are often forced to cut their losses and sell young horses at prices well below what they have spent getting them to the sale ring. It’s a very tough game, and smaller players have little to no chance anymore of breaking through.

  What keeps us all going, I wonder, propped up against the back wall here at Oaklands with my gloomy acquaintance. What keeps me going?

  Honestly, it’s as much about being around the mares themselves, and planning the next foal for each of them, that enthralls me, as well as the possibility of growing an outstanding horse, a thoroughbred talented enough to win a good race. Selling a yearling for a vast sum is probably hugely exciting, but it has never been my main aim. Then again, it would be great to be able to send Poetic Waters, Rosie’s mum, to a top young stallion like Elvstroem or Starcraft, let alone one of Australia’s two top sires, Redoute’s Choice and Encosta de Lago.

  But their service fees were advertised at $220,000 and $195,000 respectively in 2009. Even if Po made either of their dance cards, imagine the nightmare involved in getting that kind of investment back in the sale ring? Luck really would have to ride shotgun with the best-laid plans!

  One thing I know for sure: the best thing any owner can do for a horse, young or old, is try to ensure they have every possible chance by working with the very best people possible. While most of us might not be able to afford to send our horses to a trainer like Bart Cummings, there are other fine horsemen and women to be found in Australia. They aren’t household names, but they do know horses. And I know I have found such a trainer.

  Catching up with Robbie on the final day of the Premier Yearling sales, he asks me to join him half an hour away from Lot 697 going into the ring. He’s keen to chat about how this sale is holding up overall and what could happen in six weeks’ time, when the real bluebloods—Australia’s yearling aristocracy—go through the ring in Sydney at the famous Easter Sales.

  ‘It’s going to be a blood bath,’ Robbie says quietly. ‘There’s no way it can’t be, given what’s happening around the world.’

  On that hollow note, we follow Lot 697 into the parade ring behind and Robbie confirms that he is going to bid on the colt. Again, he knows the dam’s family. But even positioned in his lucky corner, this one gets away from him at $27,000 and I take advantage of the sudden lull in action to quickly walk him back outside to have a look at Lot 706, the little bay filly by Falbrav and from Excited Angel’s maternal family.

  Mingling with her peers, she looks even smaller than she did in her stall yesterday. Robbie cautions against her build and the fact that there are mainly geldings on her pedigree page in the sale catalogue, not fillies and mares, which doesn’t bode well for this little one’s family running for her and her new owner in the future. In other words, she probably won’t have much of a future as a broodmare, because there are so few other mares to help bolster the immediate family tree. This is especially important if the filly doesn’t make the grade on the racetrack.

  ‘But she’s full of herself, I’ll give you that,’ Robbie laughs, as the filly scampers around the walking ring.

  He asks me if Rosie is as small as this young girl. I assure him she’s an Amazon by comparison, and head back inside to watch the sale. Given Robbie’s assessment of her physically, and the fact that Falbrav is a UK-based stallion who hasn’t taken off in Australia, I expect she will go for about $3000. Certainly under $5000. And it seems I have my finger on the pulse, as she’s knocked down at $4000 to—Shelley Hancox. A very good judge of a nice horse, and an even better bargain hunter!

  No doubt the filly will be sent for a spell, allowed to grow (hopefully a lot) and s
yndicated under Shelley’s nationally known banner. At least it will be easy to keep tabs on her progress.

  Little more than an hour later, the sale is over and Robbie Griffiths suddenly looks weary. It’s not surprising really, considering that at the end of the four days, he has signed for 12 yearlings, which makes him the second biggest buyer at the sale, just behind businessman and mining tycoon Nathan Tinkler and slightly ahead of Melbourne-based trainer Mick Price.

  Overall, Robbie has outlaid $758,500, his top priced purchase the $150,000 filly that I did the bidding on, his median price $75,000. The majority of these acquisitions will head to his stable at Cranbourne.

  By the time anyone sees these babies again, their price tags will have risen to include the cost of transport, insurance, stabling, sales expenses and, of course, GST. In the end, a horse—say, the God’s Own/Espiare filly—who cost $35,000 on the fall of the hammer will roll out at $4600 for a 10 per cent share. My guess is she will sell like hotcakes!

  It goes without saying that any shares in these yearlings Robbie doesn’t sell—and let’s face it, the economic climate might make this kind of luxury item a little harder to move this year—he will end up holding. In other words, if he only sells 50 per cent of a yearling, he will have to wear the rest of that cost.

  Even though Australia’s two leading thoroughbred auctioneers, Inglis and Magic Millions, give prominent trainers some time to drum up business between signing the sale docket and having to pay up, this is the kind of pressure that keeps you up all night. And even though some of the horses he purchased were on order from a couple of wealthy clients, it certainly must be stressful to have signed up for more than $700,000 worth of horses without being sure how much of the rest of that outstanding balance will be found, from outside sources. Despite this pressure, only once did Robbie bow to it, slightly, when he admitted that he might have gone too far with the God’s Own progeny.