"Bookmakers, Bedfellows, and a Racing Industry That Speaks in Riddles"

At York’s prestigious Gimcrack Dinner—soon to be rebranded the Gimmick Dinner if the current trend of hot air and hollow promises continues—Conor Grant delivered a speech brimming with calls for stakeholder harmony, streamlined governance, and radical consumer engagement. It was the kind of polished, forward-looking vision that might even have had the dessert forks tapping in approval. But beneath the surface lies an unsettling reality: the racing industry may be swapping one set of self-interests for another. Gimcrack mean shoddily made and that might now describe the structure of British horseracing

Grant’s proposal to “re-engage with bookmakers” as part of a bold strategy for racing’s survival raises eyebrows for two reasons. First, bookmakers have spent years crucifying successful punters with account restrictions and bans, hollowing out the sport’s betting ecosystem.

Second—and let’s not overlook this—Grant himself spent 25 years in the bookmaking world, including as CEO of Flutter Entertainment’s UK and Ireland division. In fact, he’s been involved with nearly every misbehaving bookmaker in the country. Flutter, Sky Bet, Paddy Power, Boyle Sports—if there’s a bookmaker you think is an arsehole, Conor might just be the piles.

Of course, you wouldn’t know any of this from reading the Racing Post. The industry’s cheerleading newspaper wouldn’t dare shine a light on Grant’s bookmaking résumé. After all, it’s hard to stay impartial when your advertising revenue comes from the very operators who’ve spent years making punters feel like unwelcome guests at their own party.

Sleeping with the Bookmakers: Friends with Benefits or Foes in Disguise?

Grant’s pitch to rekindle racing’s relationship with bookmakers rests on the promise of mutual growth. Racing, he says, must show bookmakers that it’s serious about expanding its audience, citing initiatives like the Sunday Series and the Jockeys’ Cup as steps in the right direction. For fecks sake is he trying to help to strangle the last breaths from the dying corpse?

But here’s the rub: bookmakers aren’t exactly known for their altruism. For years, they’ve been systematically alienating successful punters, ruthlessly limiting or banning those who consistently beat the odds. Want to place a decent bet on a longshot? Good luck. Today’s bookmakers seem less interested in fostering vibrant betting markets and more focused on protecting their margins.

This raises a critical question: can racing really afford to rely on bookmakers who increasingly view the sport as a costly inconvenience rather than a lucrative partner? Re-engaging with operators who treat racing as a fading side hustle feels less like a strategic partnership and more like Stockholm syndrome.

Paralysed by Self-Interest: From Gimcrack to Gimmick

Grant didn’t mince words when describing British racing’s governance as “paralysed by self-interest.” But that paralysis runs so deep it’s a wonder anyone could lift their forks at the dinner. Decision-making, he argued, is slow, convoluted, and riddled with conflicts of interest.

His prescription—streamlined governance, no one sitting on multiple committees, and strict standards to avoid profiteering—sounds sensible. But let’s not kid ourselves: this is British racing. If a conflict of interest were a horse, it would be the odds-on favourite in every race.

And when it comes to conflicts, Grant’s speech wasn’t exactly free of irony. As a man who’s spent a quarter of a century at the helm of bookmakers like Paddy Power and Sky Bet, he’s not exactly a neutral arbiter in racing’s messy marriage to the betting industry. At this rate, the Gimcrack Dinner might as well be renamed the Gimmick Dinner—a stage for lofty rhetoric and zero accountability.

Code of Silence: Why No Names Are Named

If Grant is truly serious about reform, why not name the real culprits behind racing’s inertia? His speech was full of veiled criticisms of “self-interest” and “conflicts of interest,” but where were the names? Why not call out Arena Racing Company (ARC), whose practices have sparked frustration across the industry? Why not scrutinise the Racecourse Association (RCA) or the myriad BHA committees that seem better at generating paperwork than decisive action? Why not call out the recuitment commitee that have failed in finding an effective CEO?

Instead, Grant’s words—delivered in the shadow of York’s historic stands—were wrapped in the kind of genteel vagueness that typifies racing’s refusal to confront its problems head-on. No names, no direct challenges, just polite suggestions that the system needs a rethink. It’s as if the industry operates under an unspoken code: never criticise the big players, and certainly never bite the hand that might, one day, feed you. Paratus nihil!

Consumer Engagement: A Leap into Modernity, or a Stumble in the Dark?

Grant’s suggestion to “reimagine” racing as a modern, inclusive leisure activity is both ambitious and overdue. He talks of learning from Formula 1’s Netflix-fuelled renaissance and Matchroom’s transformation of darts into a neon-soaked spectacle.

But racing’s challenge is deeper than flashy marketing. The sport needs to grapple with its core identity: is it a high-stakes betting product, a social day out, or an elite competition for owners and breeders? Without clarity, even the best fan engagement strategy risks falling flat.

Satirical Aside: Bookmakers to the Rescue?

Grant’s vision of re-engaging bookmakers conjures an amusing mental image:
Racing: “We need you to care about us again.”
Bookmakers: “We’ve moved on. Football’s shinier and makes us more money.”
Racing: “But we have the Jockeys’ Cup and Sunday Series?”
Bookmakers: “WTF. Call us when you have a bet builder.”

The truth is, bookmakers have pivoted to faster, more profitable markets. Why spend millions supporting horseracing when online casinos and football specials deliver higher margins with fewer headaches?

Final Thoughts: A Toast to Reform, or Another False Start?

Conor Grant’s Gimcrack—sorry, Gimmick—Dinner speech offers a compelling diagnosis of British racing’s woes: governance gridlock, declining betting revenue, and a failure to engage modern consumers. But his prescription—cosying up to bookmakers and adopting a corporate governance model—feels incomplete.

Reforming racing requires more than polite calls for stakeholder collaboration. It demands accountability, transparency, and a willingness to challenge the powerful entities holding the sport back. Naming names, addressing conflicts of interest, and prioritising long-term growth over short-term profits should be the first steps—not vague appeals for harmony.

Until racing sheds its culture of coded politeness and embraces genuine accountability, it risks becoming an industry of diminishing relevance. The question is whether Grant’s words will inspire the necessary bold action—or simply join the huge historical pile of well-meaning speeches lost to racing’s inertia.

And if the next Gimcrack Dinner is just another chorus of polite nodding and unspoken truths, perhaps they’d be better off leaning into the gimmick and serving dinner under a spotlight of empty platitudes. It’d be fitting, at least.