Hovdey: In the starting gate, a whisper preferred to a scream

There are tough, unforgiving jobs that no one notices until something goes wrong. Prison guard. Sewer maintenance. Circus roustabout.

Last Saturday, during the final day of the royal meeting at England’s posh Ascot, the gate crew drew unintentional attention when the favorite for the marquee Diamond Jubilee Stakes left the barrier on his knees. Harry Angel, Britain’s top-rated sprinter, ended up beating one horse and emerged with what trainer Clive Cox described as a puncture wound in a hind leg.

“It was nobody’s fault – just one of those things,” Cox told The Racing Post. “When the stalls opened he was on three legs like a dog with his leg up. We’ve a wonderful stalls team, and I would say the starter was unaware his leg was up.”

Robbie Supple, the assistant starter in the stall with Harry Angel, gamely appeared on an international broadcast shortly after the incident to explain what happened and express his profound regret for what the horse endured. A sadder face you will not see.

The world turned a couple of times, then on Monday news came from the Delaware Thoroughbred Racing Commission that an assistant starter at Delaware Park had been “cleared of any wrongdoing” in striking a horse on the side of the head there June 14.

Video of the moments just before the start of the maiden turf event clearly showed assistant starter Jesse Kisilewski wrestling with the 3-year-old gelding Accolade, a son of Pioneerof the Nile, and pounding the horse four times on the side of the muzzle with what appeared to be the heel of his hand. Kisilweski was suspended by track management in the wake of the incident and now has been reinstated.

Before ascending the high horse I keep tethered nearby for such occasions, I would once again like to review the job description of the assistant starter. A classified ad for the position might go something like this:

“Wanted: An individual sound of limb and nimble of foot, possessing infinite patience and a high tolerance for pain. Must be prepared to work in close proximity to half-ton herbivores of only partial domestication, whose prehistoric instincts of survival can be heightened to sometimes toxic levels by necessary physical restrictions in preparation for extreme competitive exertion. Experience preferred if survival desired. Shirt provided.”

The lengths to which the British gate crew went to accommodate Harry Angel tips that they were anticipating trouble. The colt entered the barrier wearing a blindfold on one end and a weighted “rug” on the other, a sure sign that the warning light was lit. He reacted badly to the rug, got it turned askew, and ended up with his left hind defensively propped on the side of the stalls.

Accolade’s sin was to squirm, thrash, and threaten to rear, putting jockey Daniel Centeno in a tough spot that required sure handling by the assistant starter. After being struck, and finally straightened, Accolade broke with only the slightest stutter step and was away with his field. He finished sixth.

Upon viewing the Delaware incident, veteran California starter Gary Brinson flashed back to the bad old days of his youth when the gate crews were populated by rough-hewn cowboys whose default technique was manhandling Thoroughbreds into temporary submission.

“They’d keep it low, so you couldn’t really see it from the grandstand,” said Brinson, who will be in his regular role as Los Alamitos starter when the Thoroughbred meet begins on Friday. “But that’s all history. You’ve got to use a little finesse and horsemanship to get by now.”

Also, noted Brinson, it works better. The evolution of horse handling has moved from Old Testament domination to the more modern philosophies of gurus like Monty Roberts and Buck Brannaman, who preach a spirit of joining up with the horse, reading its body language, and rewarding good behavior. Brinson, whose father trained horses for more than half a century, acknowledged that different practices might be tolerated in other jurisdictions. But he was surprised to hear the Delaware assistant starter faced no serious consequences – or at least none that were announced.

“I don’t like to see a starter do that, and I don’t care where you’re at,” Brinson said. “First of all, it does no good. Old-timers might have slapped him once with an open hand and said whoa. The best thing he could do was cock his head to him, back him out, let him settle, and then come back in.

“I mean, you’ve got to use a little horsemanship,” Brinson went on. “Sometimes it takes a young guy a little while to read a horse, and realize what’s the best method to school a horse. Usually, if you just peck at them with that shank you’ll get their attention right away. But then some might just look at you, so you have to try something different.”

We will set aside for a moment the obvious hypocrisy of a sport that still tolerates hitting horses at all, whether by a member of the gate crew or a jockey in the heat of a stretch duel. Heightened exposure of racing’s more distasteful habits is the price paid for the spread of awareness through the borderless world of social media.

But hitting a horse four times on the side of the head? Without consequence? Good grief. Even in California a rider can only whip a horse three times before crossing the line.