Greyhound Star was first printed in 1983 and in the following 34 years, both as newspaper and website, we have carried thousands of features and stories.
We are often asked about features from the distant past but since our archive is not cross referenced, we cannot promise to be able to find any particular piece. Here though is a piece written by myself in 1997 about a particularly enjoyable visit to Soissons in France. I learned a lot from it.
Floyd Amphlett (Editor)
Note: for those readers who access the internet by phone, and may struggle to read from the original document – the text is printed below.
If you were to describe a greyhound trainer at your local track as ‘an amateur’ it would be the equivalent of requesting a thick ear.
The dictionary‘s definition is ‘a person who is unskilled in a subject or activity’.
But there are two other definitions of amateur : ‘someone who participates in an activity, especially a sport, as a pastime rather than for gain.’ And ‘a person who is fond of or admires something’.
There are hundreds of self confessed amateur greyhound trainers in Continental Europe and a large percentage of them met up at Soissons, about 50 miles from Paris early in September.
The event was the European Championships organised by the Continental Greyhound Racing Confederation.
The Continental racing set-up, like our own racing, is split into two codes. On one side, you have the breed clubs, controlled by the Kennel Club.
They have dozens of clubs in every country where all sight hounds compete. But several years ago, a breakaway group was set-up.
It was formed by owners of racing greyhounds, many of whom were unhappy at the standards of racing and race tracks, most specifically, the requirement that greyhounds should race more than once in a day.
They were ostracised by the Kennel Clubs in the individual countries but set up their tracks with Britain and Irish racing as their model.
There are racing federations in most European countries, even those like Germany who do not have tracks – their members race mainly in Holland which has three.
But once a year, all the Federations get together for a European Championship.
Although I have been racing on the Continent before, this was my first visit to their biggest annual festival. And what an experience it proved to be.
Picturesque Soissons is a former capital of France and the track is set up on a showground on the edge of town.
Because of the travelling involved, the Championships are set up over a week and competitors had travelled from as far afield as Sweden and Hungary to compete.
They bring their caravans, tents and converted trailers and will spend a week’s holiday, eating, drinking and talking dogs.
The groups tend to camp among their own countrymen and as a Brit, reputedly not the EU’s most enthusiastic member country, it was terrific to see them all getting along – most of the time.
There is a little bit of needle between the Dutch and French, but it is unclear if the friction is based on ancient mistrusts or (far more likely), racing rivalry.
“The Dutch always expect to win everything” I am informed. Or in a similar accent “the Dutch always want their own way.”
“The Frenchies”, I am told, “cannot tell the time” (?) or “always want things their own way.”
All things considered though, they have much more in common with each other than with the breed clubs.
And when could three greyhound owners, of any nationality, ever agree that water is wet?
On the Saturday night before the finals, there is a big dinner in a hall in the centre of town. It is a bit like being in Clonmel on the Tuesday night before the coursing finals. Opinions fill the air.
There is still talk of Dutch champ Monavaha Flash (Phantom Flash-Little Champagne) failing to qualify for the finals and apparently lame.
Leeview Lady (Slippy Blue-Lemon Miss) cannot be beaten in the bitch’s 480 final, Spotlight Copper is a good thing in the 680.
Of course, the conversations are themselves, an education.
The Dutch and the Swiss chat in good English, the French and Germans chat in French. The French, it appears, are only slightly less one-tongued than the Brits.
There is also a contingent of Irish headed by Pat Dalton, Tralee steward Frank Thornton and Chairman of the Irish Greyhound Owners & Breeders, John Hegarty.
John talks to everyone but it seems there is no interpreter for a Kerryman. Pat Dalton tries sign language.
Of course the Swiss, are the masters of the lot and as adaptable as their army knives. If Europe was a school, the Swiss would be all the prefects.
It seems, the only fault that stops them being perfect in every way, “is that they just have too much money”.
But who better to act as CGRC president than the multi lingual Swiss owner Jurg Fluri.
He welcomes everyone in an assortment of languages and thanks the hosts for the excellent facilities. Tomorrow will be a great day.
A few glasses of champagne and the serious conversation. How is the Irish Derby going? How good is Some Picture? When will quarantine be lifted. Where can I buy top class pups. Can you understand John Hegarty?
Everyone is about early on the campsite on Sunday morning. The meeting isn’t due to start until 1.00pm.
It is a great chance to meet the owners. The Star has around 400 subscribers on the Continent and many introduce themselves.
I foolishly passed through the Swiss corner of the site and was stripped of around a dozen full colour Greyhound Star posters in something under seven seconds.
In the ‘French quarter’ was Jill Gunson, a native Sheffield lass who thinks she may be distantly related to the Owlerton racing manager. (A suggestion that most people would rather keep quiet).
Jill lives in France but recently returned to England on a visit with partner Jean-Luc Pirlot jnr and was shown around her local track.
She said: “We phoned up just on the off-chance and they agreed to show us around.
“It was brilliant, they made us feel so welcome. And the racing was excellent. We also went to Belle Vue but was disappointed by all the first bend trouble and older facilities.”
In England Jill had a few runners at Reading and when she left for France she took former minor open racer Paulas Dancer and a middle grade bitch Call Her Zippy.
Jill used them for breeding and two of the litter were due to contest one of the day’s most important finals, the Dogs 480.
“Its great”, she says, “when I bred them, nobody wanted them. The whole litter turned out good and I’ve had lots of enquiries for a repeat mating. But I no longer have the parents.”
Jill is ideally placed to evaluate the quality of the runners, just under half of which are Irish bred.
She says: “A lot of people think they have dogs that could compete in the English Derby but they are dreaming. The very best dogs would be A1 or minor open class in England.
“Training dogs over here is very difficult. There are few places to run them and many of those are not safe. This week the dogs have run three times, but it might be another two or three weeks before they race again.
“Weather is also a problem, the French summer is very hot and arrives very suddenly which makes it difficult for the dogs to acclimatise.”
But if the Continental trainers over estimate their dogs, they appear to under estimate their own efforts.
They talk of Britain and Ireland as being dominated by professional trainers in almost reverent terms. But they fail to grasp the wide variation between the best and the worst.
As any small independent or permit trainer in Britain knows, a lot of effort, patience, and common sense, all focused on a couple of dogs offsets a lot of experience.
Viewing the dogs before the Soisson finals, Pat Dalton said: “Overall these are the best prepared bunch of greyhounds I have ever seen from amateur trainers. Better than in Ireland.
“These dogs are done to the minute and are in superb condition, a credit to their owners.”
The 1.00pm start was delayed by an hour and a bit before the event got underway at just after 2.00pm (The Frenchies cannot tell the time).
After four consolation finals, each worth around £45, there is a big presentation with lots of flags, music, people in costumes and bags of pomp.
The track is a decent sized 400m circuit with good quality well prepared sand. The hare, which is common throughout the continent, is a converted chainsaw operated on remote control. Very noisy and pulling the lure high and wide, it is probably the only item on the track that British trainers might have doubts about.
There are seven main finals each worth 2,200 francs (about £220). The dog version of the veterans race went to the Fred ‘Hit The Lid’ Smith bred, Dutch entry Baby Bonzo, a son of Tsetse Homer and St Leger winner Exile Energy.
“I’ll bet there would’t be too many Americans who would recognise this as greyhound racing” I enquired of Pat Dalton.
“You’re right” he said, “but it all started like this. I loved to listen to the old dog men when they talked about racing in America at around 1919-1920.
“They’d set up racing and would get about a week before the sheriff would move them on. They’d hopefully have enough money for gas and move onto the next town. They must have been great times.”
For many, the biggest certainty of the day was James Hendriksen’s Leeview Lady in the 480m bitches final. The stakes are divided into races for dogs and bitches.
She had eight lengths on the clock but after breaking slowly, she found Westmead Disc (Murlens Abbey-Westmead Chloe) too much of a handful.
Superbly prepared by Thomas Mika from Germany she won by a couple of lengths in 29.30. The former Walthamstow grader had produced a litter of pups only five months previously and was 35 days in season.
“Tell Nick Savva he might not have won an English Derby yet, but at least he’d bred a European Champion” quipped the proud owner.
Continued
There was probably nobody more relieved at the result that Harry Findlay.
He had been laying 12-1 about the 1-20f being beaten – thankfully, nobody took him on.
“Flash” Harry is probably the most unfairly maligned person in greyhound racing.
But the man seen by many as a flash brash big mouth Londoner actually lives in Sheffield and despite his record breaking gob, is quite probably the world’s biggest softie.
Amphlett been on the wobbly water? Well make your own minds up.
Last year the dog racing fanatic (Harry doesn’t do anything less than 200%) went to Hungary for the first time.
He saw the home made track at Budapest and fell in love with the place and the people.
He went back this year after drumming up £500 and £1,000 sponsors, including himself, for a track where they usually race for £30. Overnight, he put Hungary on the Continental racing map as dogs attended from all over Europe.
And at the beginning of September he bought two runners from Sheffield for £3,000 and gave them to the Hungarians so that they would have something worthy of racing in the European Championships.
Caravans
With his wife and kids, Harry took the Hungarians to Eurodisney and then camped out with them for the week of the Championships. The dogs slept in the caravan, the families in tents.
On the Continental racing scene, he is treated as one of their own.
He knows everybody and unfortunately for him, was beginning to contribute to their holiday expenses as the unofficial track bookie.
He was pretty tense when the fancied Swiss runner Dark Shadow (Snow Man-Carry Mea) romped up in the final of the 275m ‘Dogs’ Final.
But he was a complete nervous wreck prior to the final of the 680m race.
In it was Given Time (Dark Wonder-Simply Gold), the faster of Harry’s two gifts to the Hungarians.
She’s run at Sheffield for Sue Brunt only a week earlier and had only seen the noisy inside hare for the first time in the heats.
Her inexperience proved too much as she found trouble at every turn.
She ran a stormer to finish a close-up third to Johna Winy (Lyons Monks-Aquaduct Morning) and would probably have won by double figure lengths in a clean run race.
Harry was devastated “I ‘m sick to my stomach for Judit and the family who have tried so hard with her” sighed Harry practically in tears.
But ten minutes later he was back in full swing.
“God she was so unlucky. We’ll show them all the way home in Geldrop in two weeks time.”
The race was no happier for the Confederation president, Jurg Fluri.
He had spent most of meeting in charge of the dope testing procedure.
No less than 40 dogs were sampled with the tests due to be carried out in the forensic labs in Limerick.
From an outsider’s point of view, it did seem huge overkill for such a small industry, with minimal tote betting and so little money to spare.
Diligence
And Jurg’s reward for his diligence and hard work was to see his dog come off the track badly lame.
The Belgium entry Side Legend (Deenside Spark-Volta) ran away with the bitch’s sprint final and still the hosts waited for a home trained winner.
It came in the shape of the Jacque Pirlot trained JS Pagan Rite (Paulas Dancer-Call Her Zippy) who won in 28.88 to the distant sound of “Go on! Go on!!!” from some hearty Yorkshire lungs that just might be related to Dave Gunson.
And so it was over. There were handshakes, hugs and a glass or two of wine before the trailers and vans set off for all corners of the Continent.
Motoring
It would takle the Hungarians 16 hours of motoring to get home, the Swedes a full day.
And the Brits and Irish set off back to their superior racing.
We were left to reflect on the people who were racing dogs, not for prize money or betting, just for the sheer bloody pleasure of looking after and training their own dogs.
There were no ‘job men’, stopped dogs, 5-2 the outsider of six, or crooked handicappers.
Flying Squads
There was no kennelling four hours before racing, Flying Squads, ‘you’re dog will run when I grade it’ or 4-1 the BAGS field. They don’t need NAGO or the RGT.
Mmm – superior racing.
Next year’s European Championships are in Hungary.
If, at that time, you find yourself disillusioned with the whole doggie business, try to go along.
You’ll be made very welcome. You’ll remember what greyhound racing should be about – and you’ll never view the word amateur in quite the same way again.
