Trackwork at Ballarat in the mornings is usually a pretty noisy place. Handlers chatting to their charges “Good girl”, “Stand up”, “Get off my bloody foot!”.
Trainers lamenting their recent fortunes. “Would have won if he hadn’t drawn the carpark!”. “Bloody owner made us run”. Or maybe looking forward to next week. “Did you see it win that trial? She reckoned he was in 3rd gear!”
The track riders caw to each other like crows as their mounts step onto the polytrack “Gees it can pull!”. “Can’t believe they managed to sell that thing!”. “What a night! Nearly didn’t get home at all!
But on Anzac Day 2023, trackwork at Ballarat is notable for the blanket of silence. Trainers barely whisper their instructions to their riders. The track riders themselves do their jobs – skillfully as ever – in silence. Occasionally one hears the stunned but quiet mutterings “His poor parents”, “No-one’s fault”. “Four kids!”
Even the wind, usually such an imposing and ubiquitous presence at Ballarat, has been stilled. It is as if the weather Gods themselves have got the memo:
For racing has lost one of their own. Dean Holland, one of the most popular members of the jockey fraternity, someone born to ride, universally liked, except perhaps for those who knew him well enough to really love him, was killed in a race fall yesterday. Dean’s career, which numbered over 1000 victories, included wins for many stables, big and small. His strong association with the McEvoy stable meant that he was a regular riding out at Ballarat. But even those who only saw him occasionally at the races really liked Dean: the phrase “trademark grin” has rarely been so poignant.
Racing is resilient as are racing people. The fact is the show goes on and even if race meetings are cancelled (as Victoria’sAnzac meeting both are, in a right and proper mark of respect) the horses still need taking care of. Feeding, cleaning up after, working. The show will indeed go on, but the absence of Dean Holland will be felt for a long time.
His skill in the saddle. His relentless positivity. Even, yes, his trademark grin. No orchestral crescendo could properly do justice. But the eery silence over Ballarat trackwork on Anzac Day 23 comes very close.