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Last week’s Australian racing spring had Robbie Williams belting out the hits amid dancers and shooting flames, and enormous crowds on course. For all that, some of the most riveting television of the week came from a small room at Randwick, where a protest hearing decided the feature race.
Nash Rawiller, fourth on the favorite Gringotts as he chased a third straight win in the Big Dance, told the stewards he would have finished ahead of Formal Display and Chad Schofield but for a bump approaching the turn. Schofield pointed the finger at another runner and insisted his own horse had been held up. The stewards sided with Rawiller. Formal Display was relegated, stablemate Hellsing was handed the race and Schofield missed out on a spring treble. Hellsing’s rider, Tom Sherry, admitted it wasn’t how he wanted to win, but he would take it.
Rawiller is not a natural public speaker. Every answer starts with a pause, and the better the question, the longer the pause. Sit him down in front of the stewards, though, and he becomes a master operator, talking angles and momentum and laying out a case so tidy it is hard to argue with.
Hong Kong punters remember him as ‘Chow fan’ – Cantonese for fried rice – thus named for his frantic style in the saddle, and they adored him. Even when he was banned in 2018 for betting breaches, nobody accused him of not trying. He tipped to the wrong people, yes, but he always rode to win.
Gai Waterhouse once sent him to NIDA, Sydney’s famous acting school, to help him find his voice. He never made it to the stage, but he clearly kept a few of the lessons, and his clear and logical case in the Big Dance hearing was proof.
Here, a hearing like that would have played to an empty house. The explanation for why the media can’t be in the room has always been space, since the old stewards’ room barely fit the people who need to be there. Fair enough, but there have been renovations since. And Sydney may have the solution: during COVID they put cameras in the room and gave journalists a log-in stream. TV cameras allowed in on the big days.
Opening up would do the sport some good. Punters who see how a decision is reached are more likely to trust it, and every hearing is a free lesson in how interference is judged and why momentum matters, which makes the next ruling easier to swallow. It would also take some of the mystery out of the moment a result changes.
Mostly, though, it would be fun. No other sport serves up anything like it: the frantic finish, then a few minutes later a courtroom drama as jockeys become little lawyers and plead their case over the replay. Craig Williams once won a Group 2 on protest despite vision showing no contact, persuading the stewards his horse had been intimidated. Our own columnist Shane Dye could hold a room just as well.
The Club already does plenty right on transparency, from veterinary reports to post-race explanations. Letting the cameras into the stewards’ room would be a small step with a big payoff, and Hong Kong punters deserve a front-row seat to one of racing’s great pieces of theatre.