The BHA's Breakfast Club: Why Premierisation is Making Kelso’s 11 a.m. Start a Race Against Sanity
11am Forget the grassroots and the Enthusiasts
Ed Grimshaw
11/9/20244 min read
For racing purists, Kelso Racecourse has always been a slice of heaven in the Borders, with its earthy charm, loyal crowd, and not an ounce of pretension. But thanks to the British Horseracing Authority’s (BHA) “Premierisation” strategy, Kelso’s laid-back afternoons have been replaced by early-morning starts that would test the punctuality of a shepherd. An 11 a.m. kick-off may not sound too drastic until you realise it shoves the entire affair into breakfast territory, as if racing’s last grassroots gems need a reform school bell to drag them into the modern age.
Take it from me—I, for one, forgot the early start entirely, and missed the first race. I showed up just in time to catch Kelso’s most dedicated punters, frost still clinging to their jackets, nursing their coffees as they warmed up to the action. And let me tell you, there’s nothing ripoff about Kelso. This is grassroots through and through, a track that’s welcoming, genuine, and proud of its unvarnished racing. Yet here we are, being shuffled about in the name of an experiment in “Premierisation.”
Sandy Thomson Speaks Up: “Why Change Something That Ain’t Broke?”
Kelso’s own Sandy Thomson, a respected trainer and one of the true voices of reason in this circus, politely pointed out the obvious: “Why change something that ain’t broke?” He’s right. Kelso’s charm, the community atmosphere, and the loyalty of its local owners are what keep it thriving. Now, thanks to the early start, owners and trainers—many of whom travel long distances—are forced to rethink whether they can attend at all. And for what? To free up later time slots for bigger courses and “premier” races that already hog the limelight? It’s a sacrifice of Kelso’s very essence, the grassroots charm that’s won it awards, all in the name of a flashy rebrand.
The BHA’s Data-Driven Delusion: Turning Tradition into a Numbers Game
The BHA, in all its spreadsheet-savvy glory, insists that these early starts are just a “trial,” and that they’ll be tracking data to see how it goes. Now, data is all very well, but when has a stat ever captured the heart and soul of an afternoon at Kelso? This is racing’s version of overthinking the simple things, and for a governing body not exactly known for lightning-fast innovation, it’s striking how easily the BHA has clung to the idea that “Premierisation” will somehow solve all of racing’s woes. After all, why actually listen to racegoers, owners, and trainers when there’s a perfectly good spreadsheet to pore over?
The reality is, the BHA’s Premierisation looks like a big bet on numbers that miss the point entirely. In focusing on capturing an elusive “new audience” with primetime race slots, the BHA is pushing Kelso and its kin to the margins, hoping loyal fans will just muddle through at brunch time. It’s racing’s version of gentrification, a slick attempt to turn a muddy, gritty, gloriously unpredictable sport into a streamlined product, even if it means erasing the things that made it popular in the first place.
For Owners and Trainers, It’s a Raw Deal
The worst of it, of course, is what these new start times mean for small-time owners and trainers who have been the backbone of tracks like Kelso for generations. With these early starts, many of them are finding it nearly impossible to attend—especially those who trek from far afield, dedicating both time and money to the sport. Racing may be a passion, but it’s also a serious investment. Forcing owners out of the picture feels like an insult, the BHA’s polite way of saying “Thanks, but no thanks,” to the people who actually care about these smaller venues.
Kelso isn’t about glitz and glamour; it’s about loyal patrons, the kind who turn up regardless of whether it’s a high-profile meet or a misty Tuesday with odds of rain. But for the BHA, who seems intent on polishing racing to fit a modern sports model, these supporters are nothing more than numbers on a page, test subjects in their data-driven experiment.
Premierisation: A Slick Facade, but an Empty Core
Let’s be clear: Premierisation is, at heart, a money game. The BHA’s grand plan is to boost racing’s “prestige” by consolidating top races into glitzy time slots, making it all look good on a TV screen while small tracks like Kelso scramble to make do. The strategy seems to be that by funnelling attention to flagship events, they’ll somehow boost racing’s appeal nationwide. But in reality, it feels like the BHA is abandoning its roots, glossing over the rich tapestry of British racing in favour of a pared-down model that’s about as appealing as yesterday’s porridge.
What the BHA seems not to grasp, however, is that Kelso’s appeal lies precisely because it’s not some polished, corporate race day. The racing public shows up for the raw, unfiltered spirit of tracks like Kelso, where fans mingle with owners and trainers, where racegoers can chat with the locals and experience the sport in its most authentic form. And yet, Premierisation threatens to bulldoze this charm in favour of a homogenised, big-money circuit that’s as predictable as it is lifeless.
If It Ain’t Broke, Don’t Fix It
In the end, Sandy Thomson’s comment rings true: “Why change something that ain’t broke?” Kelso is exactly the kind of venue that makes British racing unique, and the early start feels like a slap in the face to the very people who have supported it all these years. While the BHA waits for the “data” to validate its Premierisation gambit, the loyalists at Kelso are left juggling flasks, scarves, and frostbitten fingers in an early-morning schedule that does them no favours.
If racing is to thrive, it won’t be through hollow rebrands and flashy time slots; it will be because of the community, loyalty, and unvarnished passion that tracks like Kelso bring to the sport. And if the BHA fails to see that, no amount of data will rescue them from the very fans they’ve ignored in the process. Because while Premierisation may look good on a spreadsheet, it’s the small, muddy tracks and early-morning faithful who keep British racing truly alive.