Page 34 - December 2006 The Game

34 The Game, December 2006 Canada’s Thoroughbred Racing Newspaper
Clerk of The Scales: Robert Bertrand Handles the Weighty Issues
You might say that Robert Bertrand feels the weight of his job every day. As Clerk of the Scales at Woodbine, Bertrand has to check the poundage of every jockey before each race. That’s how the job gets it title, but according to Bertrand, there’s much more than watching these lightweight athletes step on the scales.
“I also handle all claims,” says Bertrand, “Trainers submit the claims and I send them up to the stewards. As soon as the race is off, then I process them.”
If a particular horse is popular at the claim box, the process can get a little complicated.
“Once at Fort Erie we had 23 claims for one horse,” he recalls laughing, “We put 23 numbered peas in a bottle and drew the winning claim.”
For many years, Bertrand’s father Leo was the incumbent Clerk of the Scales. The younger Bertrand ascended to the throne by working at a variety of race- track positions.
He galloped horses from 1967 until the early 80s and, even while he was galloping, he worked as horse identifier and patrol judge before manning the scales for several years at Fort Erie.
It’s the responsibility of the Clerk of the Scales to administer breathalyzer tests to every rider and Bertrand is happy to inform that his jockey colony is a well- behaved troop.
“We have a very low rate of failure,” he says, with certain pride in his voice. “Jockeys have the state of mind that they can’t come to work with alcohol in their system. It’s just way too costly. If a jockey has, say, four rides and two of them are live, losing those could cost as much as $10,000.”
The first time a jockey blows over, a fine of $100 is levied and a day’s
suspension is imposed. The ORC also drops in unannounced from time to time to check for other substances.
“The ORC comes by five or six times a year,” says Bertrand, “All the jockeys have their names on cards and we put their cards in a hat and draw ten at random. Very few fail the drug test.”
But it’s the politics of pounds that profoundly permeates the jocks’ room. A jockey who repeatedly exceeds his assigned weight could find fewer trainers interested in his services. In many jurisdictions, it’s possible the Clerk of the Scales might look the other way for a pleading, over-eating jock, but not at Woodbine. Bertrand’s reputation appears to be beyond question.
“You’re not going to pull the wool over Bob’s eyes,” offers rider Robert Landry who’s been stepping gingerly on the scales for more than 25 years, “He’s done everything in this business.”
“He’s the best I’ve ever seen,” says jockey Jack Lauzon and Lauzon has seen more than a few in his lengthy career, “In some places, they’re really hard on you. He’s like the school principal. He does everything by the book. If you’re over- weight, he lets you know and he announces it. He’s tough on the scales.”
Working as intimately with the riders as he does every racing day of the year, Bertrand has developed a special appreciation for what these under- appreciated and undernourished men and women do.
“Jockeys are the most underrated athletes in the world, “ he says without equivocation, “Pound for pound they’re as fit and probably stronger than any other athletes.”
Unfortunately, Bertrand is usually in
the mix when one of his co-workers is injured.
“When you’ve worked here for forty years, they’re all like family,” he says, “So when one of them gets hurt, it’s tough.”
Bertrand painfully recalls the day in 1980 that champion rider Avelino Gomez died after a horrifying spill in the Woodbine Oaks. He seems particularly haunted by an injury that ended the career of rider Dave Penna.
“The horse flipped behind the gate on him and broke his hip. It broke his femur as well. He could never walk right after that. He was probably in his late 20s when that happened. Penna was a master on the grass and an all-around genuinely nice guy.”
From years of galloping horses, Bertrand is comfortable waking up before dawn and is usually at the track by five, showering, shaving, then putting on a smart suit. He loves the job, but some- times the hours can be a grind.
“I’m here until after the last race,” he
says, “On Wednesdays when we have night racing, I’m here from 9 am to around 11. Then we race during the day on Thursday. That turnaround is tough.”
A casual observer, seeing this guy spending his days hanging around the jockeys, might think that Bertrand has the inside scoop on which horses are going to win. Bertrand laughs at the suggestion.
“If I bet every tip I get from these guys, I’d be broke tomorrow,” he insists, “They all think they’re going to win.”
In fact, as close as he is to the action, Bertrand doesn’t gamble.
“I work too hard to earn my money here. I’m not going to give it back.”
His wagering habits notwithstanding, Bertrand has a deep admiration for the jockeys. He specifically mentions Todd Kabel, Constant Montpellier, Ray Sabourin and Jono Jones as jockeys he holds in high esteem.
“It’s because of their dedication,” he emphasizes, “And how hard they try to win.”
Bertrand feels he’s good for at least nine more years on the job, though he does contemplate the idea of retiring maybe a year or two before he turns 65.
He insists, though, that retiring from his job at the track does not in any way mean he’ll stay away from the races.
“Oh, I’ll still come to the track,” he states with conviction,” I can’t get it out of my system.”
And chances are good, that even if he’s not betting on a race, Robert Bertrand will weigh in with an opinion.
Woodbine’s Clerk of Scales, Robert Bertrand flanked by Jockeys Emma-Jayne Wilson (left) & Constant Montpellier
Who is Michelle Rainford and Why do Horses Win for Her?
In just her first year of full-time riding, 26 year-old Michelle Rainford has done two very interesting things. First, she is winning a lot of races – near the end of November, she had 50 wins and was 12th in the jockey standings. That alone is worth analyzing, but secondly, Rainford has already established an idiosyncratic type of ride, a way of winning that is becoming Rainford-esque.
On Sunday, November 5, as Rainford was bringing home the Glenn Magnusson trained March Valley Girl in the fifth at Woodbine, track announcer Dan Loiselle emphasized her apparent specialty.
“Rainford keeps another one alive on the front end,” he intoned.
Loiselle made the specific reference, because from his point of view, Rainford’s recent performances deserve attention.
“It’s very unusual for an apprentice to be able to do that,” Loiselle said, referring to her ability to hold a horse together to the wire.
With a certain amount of humility,
Rainford doesn’t want to suggest she has some special front-end magic.
“I’ve won quite a few on the lead, but that’s because I’ve ridden a lot of speed horses,” she says.
That’s very nice, but a lot of jockeys get horses to the front only to run out of steam in the last half furlong.
“I don’t send a horse to
the front of the pack,” she
explains, “But if they want
to be there, I let them. I don’t
a fight with them when they want to go to the lead. I let them be comfortable at a pace where they are well within them- selves.”
Rainford grew up in Fergus, the third of four daughters (sisters Lisa, Sharon, Paula are 30, 28 and 24 respectively) in a family that loved horses. She attended the University of Guelph and in 2002, while working as a waitress, she took a sug- gestion from a veterinarian friend that she
could probably get work galloping horses. Long nights slinging beer made that idea quite appealing.
“My response was that horses are a lot easier to deal with than people,” she laughs.
In April of 2002, she started working horses for trainer Alex Fehr and spent that summer in Ocala becoming a better
rider and, apparently, a more bruised one. “My first year was kind of a strange year,” she recalls, “I fell off on a weekly basis. I ended up in the hospital my first week and most people didn’t think I would come back. I did some damage to my knee and shoulder. Nothing serious,
just some bruising.”
Hitting the ground with certain
frequency simply made Rainford want to get better.
“I’ve been around horses my whole
life, so I’ve been kicked, bitten, fallen on, run off with,” says Rainford, explaining why she wasn’t discouraged, “I was a fearless little kid.”
For the first several months of galloping, Rainford didn’t seriously consider the life and career of a jockey, but as her comfort level and ability improved, that became a more realistic concept.
“To get a jockey’s license, you have to first speak with the stewards,” she explains, “And you have to spend two weeks at the starting gate, just watching how the jockeys do it on racing days.”
So, in September of 2005, there was Michelle Rainford, a party of one, standing by the starting gate watching and learning. Her decision made, she was required to acquire letters from three trainers who would promise to ride her. The obliging trainers were Ron Sadler, Scott Fairlie and Justin Nixon.
In the fall of 2005, Rainford rode 31 horses. Her first mount was on a......
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Michelle Rainford