9

FOR MANY IN Peter Moody’s predicament, a celebratory night out on the town might have held some appeal – a chance to mark their achievements of the past 12 months, rather than dwelling on misfortunes. Socialising with peers who understood what it was like to work with horses under duress – far better than racing fans, journalists or lawmakers ever could – might have been precisely what the doctor ordered.

Yet it seemed to fill the trainer with a strange dread. Not only did he not attend the Victorian Racehorse of the Year ceremony in August 2015. In typical fashion, he didn’t pull his punches when declining the invitation. ‘I have been invited, but I will not be going because Racing Victoria has decided that my involvement with this sport is prejudicial to the image of racing,’ he told the press. ‘So I see no good coming from someone from Racing Victoria potentially giving me an award that could further embarrass them, and the sport. I just don’t think it’s in anyone’s best interests to attend. I think it’s better for me to stay away.’ Two months later, in October, he would stick to his guns and refuse to attend the national industry awards, held at the Melbourne Cricket Ground. He had made his feelings clear.

Later in August, however, a more taciturn trainer refused to speak on camera to Channel 78 after winning the first race on Memsie Stakes day, citing the pressure he was under over the cobalt saga. Melbourne’s tight-knit racing media was polarised, old-fashioned newspaper battlelines highlighted. A blunt opinion piece by veteran turf reporter Patrick Bartley – headed ‘Cobalt: Is Peter Moody on the brink of unravelling?’ – provided a war map of media alliances, as well as of unfolding events.

‘Whichever way [Moody] manouvres the question remains: how did Lidari arrive at Flemington with double the threshold levels of cobalt in his system?’ Bartley asked. ‘For the third time this week, Moody threatened to resign from racing. He’s threatened to move to Darwin, talked about a pub in Queensland and, for all we know, by Saturday night he may be looking at a convenience store in Papua New Guinea.

‘He has 110 of some of the most expensive racehorses in Australia housed at his Caulfield base. His winning strike-rate has not altered, nor has his client base deserted him since Lidari’s swab earlier this year. But his trusting media contingency was shown at their very best this week, as they gave Moody more oxygen to explain why the world is against him.’

Despite his decision to sit out the racing industry’s annual awards night on 8 October, the trainer harboured some hope that one of his horses might be crowned the nation’s best. Dissident, an imposing six-year-old stallion, had won his fair share of Group 1 events, and had just retired to what looked a promising second career at stud in the Hunter Valley. ‘I hope the owners are rewarded, that the horse is rewarded,’ Moody said. ‘[Dissident] won three Group 1 races, and he was drug-tested every time he raced. So there can be no suggestion that he didn’t win fair and square.’

The trainer had paid $220,000 for him as a yearling and was proud he had lived up to his expectations, though he fretted that the horse had not been given due respect for his achievements on the track. The exploits of Black Caviar, it seemed, still overshadowed her stablemate’s performace. ‘He won his first start and he won his last start,’ the trainer pointed out. This was no small feat for any horse.

But in this age of ‘sport 24/7’, Dissident was no modern equine hero, his career not ‘big’ enough to propel his name from the sports pages into the general news. Nevertheless, the trainer was correct: he was an impressive performer. In Moody’s absence, the horse was crowned Racehorse of the Year, polling 119 votes – a decisive victory over runner-up Brazen Beau, who garnered 58. For good measure, he was also named Champion Sprinter, which was icing on the cake for his new stud connections as well as for Peter Moody’s own résumé.

Dissident’s victory was the fifth time a horse nurtured at his stable had taken home the title, with Typhoon Tracy having won in 2010 and Black Caviar three times in previous years. It was the horseman’s fifth victory in six years, in fact; good friend Mick Price had broken his run the year before, with Lankan Rupee. The lead-up to the award also reignited discussion in racing circles about whether Moody should be included in the national Racing Hall of Fame.

Yet this was obviously not the year for such an honour. Talk of his achievements underscored the gulf that existed between the industry’s authorities and its participants. And that sheen of cobalt blue hovered over even the biggest races.

But the ugliest incident of this grim spring in Melbourne came on the night of 25 October, when shots were fired at the front of Terry Bailey’s home in Templestowe. At the end of a busy Cox Plate weekend, Bailey, his wife and their two teenage daughters were – fortunately – in the back yard when bullets, reportedly from a semi-automatic weapon, tore through the screen door. Neighbours told journalists the chief steward ran onto the street with a baseball bat, but the shooter was gone.

‘If they want to find you, they’ll find you,’ Terry Bailey said at a media conference the next day. But he declared he was ‘absolutely committed’ to pursuing his role as chief steward, making clear he believed the attack was linked to his work. ‘I don’t have any other interests in life, so I presume this is the common denominator … We’ve had similar incidents over the years, we’re accustomed to it.’

But even this usually implacable crusader was shaken by the knowledge that his family could have been hurt, or worse, in this violent attack. ‘There’s no need for that,’ he said, with remarkable restraint. ‘It’s below the belt.’ Months later, he revealed that the front door had been open behind the flyscreen door when the shots were fired. ‘The missus said, “Stay put, everybody,” and we did for a few mintues, and the rest is history – half a dozen rounds through the front door.’ (At time of writing, police are still investigating the shooting.)

*

Weeks later, two of the Cobalt Five would argue their cases before the RAD Board. Father-and-son team Lee and Shannon Hope faced the board first, charged with administering a prohibited substance to three horses for the purpose of affecting races. Windy Citi Bear, Best Suggestion and Choose had returned cobalt readings over the legal threshold in 2014. The Hopes eventually entered guilty pleas, conceding that they had given the horses cobalt, but denied they had been trying to manipulate the results of races.

The board did not accept their argument and found them both guilty, calling their evidence unsatisfactory. ‘It beggars belief that [Shannon Hope] would not have known that cobalt was present in many of the supplements and medications, and that he would not have appreciated that cobalt had the potential to become a problem,’ the board stated. Lee Hope was also criticised for the cobalt in his horse; the judgement described the pair as ‘not credible witnesses’.

The RAD Board handed down tough penalties: Lee Hope was disqualified for three years, and Shannon Hope for five. It was not yet summer, and they would appeal their sentences before the Victorian Civil and Administrative Appeals tribunal. But the wind was harsh up on the hill at Flemington.

Melbourne Cup–winning trainer Mark Kavanagh and his Flemington colleague Danny O’Brien were the next to face similar charges at Racing Victoria’s headquarters, along with vet Tom Brennan. Five of their horses had returned cobalt readings higher than legal – one of Kavanagh’s and four of O’Brien’s – and they too had been issued serious administration charges. They were found guilty and given lengthy bans – three and four years, respectively. They too would appeal their sentences to VCAT in the new year.

By now it was the end of November; at this rate, Peter Moody would be lucky to see the board before Christmas. As it turned out, he scraped in just 11 days ahead of that date. His initial hearing was set for Monday, 14 December – nearly 15 months after the alleged offence.

He could not get there quickly enough.