The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.
So said Socrates – and I don’t mean the stylish Brazilian midfielder.
Talk to greyhound trainers – as I have done practically every day of my life for the 40 plus years – and you realise that greyhound trainers don’t really acknowledge change. But it has consistently occurred, and frequently against their wishes.
In my time in greyhound racing, I have seen tracks go from grass to sand. Yards to metres, 50 NGRC stadia to 25. We have gone from 16 races a week to 60-70, and spread over seven days.
Betting shops have opened, and mushroomed. They’ve progressed from blower service to live televised racing with coffee.
Track bookmaker numbers have declined. Betting continues to slide from fractions to decimals. We have the internet, betting exchanges, satellite TV and streaming.
People have changed – or more precisely THE people have changed. The old boy sucking on Woodbines while doing his Hackney tricast trebles in the corner betting shop is gone. The old permit trainer from Rye House didn’t stop going racing; he simply stopped breathing in and out. He was never replaced and the declining number of dogs and trainers continues to alter the whole dynamic of the industry.
Hundreds of old blokes wearing overcoats on the terraces have been replaced by dozens of bearded young blokes who bet on football from their phones – accompanied by girlfriends with tattoos and Group-On vouchers.
The way that greyhound racing funds itself has altered dramatically. Embittered greyhound activists moan about the lack of funding from the betting industry. Yet I remember the days when the betting industry put back bugger-all, bar a few breadcrumbs for a favoured 10 BAGS tracks and the William Hill Lead.
Greyhound politics has also changed dramatically. Welfare awareness has sky rocketed. The NGRC and BGRB have been replaced by the GBGB whose personnel think and behave quite differently
Most notably, in my time on the planet, greyhound racing has become ever more dependent on the betting industry. Without it, we would become whippet racing, running a few dogs around a field on a Sunday morning.
So where does that leave Socrates?
I guess the old boy would be saying ‘stop having a pop at the bookies and see if you work with them’
So how likely is that?
Contrary to common perception, I am now told by one highly placed individual, that the bookmakers do not expect the BGRF income to fall very much lower.
(At present, the industry is being paid around 10p for each bet placed via live streaming but that doesn’t include the betting rake-off. Of all the betting on the internet only Bet365 pay their 0.6% voluntary contribution.)
He said: ‘It is rubbish to say that streaming undermines the Fund contributions. It is simply not true. A lot of the streaming turnover is new money from new customers who don’t bet in the shops.”
In fact, we may see Fund income rising as contributions from streaming bets starts to climb.
For greyhound racing’s fortunes improve for the better, two things need to happen. First, as flagged up by Barry Stanton in his superb first column, that 10p per race rate needs to increase. Secondly, the rest of the big bookmakers, including Betfair, need to pay up all their ‘0.6s’.
Why don’t they?
According to my source, they will, as soon as they are convinced that the money will end up with the trainers – and not the promoters.
As he pointed out: “Look at how specifically the streaming deal targeted the trainers. BAGS is ‘the bookmakers’ and they know they will have to pay. As soon as they are convinced that the money is going to the right place, they will pay up.’
Of course, the bookies would not have been enthusiastic about handing over their cash to any organisation that repeatedly accused them of killing dogs, fixing races, dishing out back-handers for track repairs, and generally being corrupt.
The acknowledgement of the ‘Group of 20 trainers’ at last week’s GBGB board meeting removes that barrier.
Time to build the new?
