RACING NOTES; Jocks have big league complaints
Boston Herald; Boston, Mass.; Jul 21, 2002; Ed Gray;

Abstract:
On the spectrum of professional athletes, there couldn't be more distance between a baseball player and a jockey. With the exception of a paltry mount fee that is hardly commensurate with the high level of risk that must be taken in each and every race, a jockey doesn't get paid unless he or she produces on the racetrack. Lucrative endorsement deals are a pipe dream - even for jockeys performing at the highest level of the Sport of Kings.

There is no more well-conditioned, highly skilled and fearless athlete in all of sports than a 115-pound jockey, who is charged with the arduous task of controlling and manuevering a half-ton animal in the intense heat of competition. Jockeys, on a regular basis, make that task appear so effortless that they don't receive the credit and accolades they deserve. The danger grossly outweighs the rewards.

A thoroughbred outperforms the most sophisticated fitness machine in any gym, providing a full-body workout for their riders, who become so physically fit that they don't often fall victim to the epidemic of pulled hamstrings that regularly sideline big league fat cats. Jockeys, though, are frequently forced to deal with more serious consequences than pulled hammies.

Full Text: Copyright Boston Herald Library Jul 21, 2002
The general public has become more than a little irritated with the incessant whining by strike-threatening Major League Baseball players. Yet, no one has more of a right to be irked by the obnoxious attitudes of overpaid big leaguers than a thoroughbred jockey.

How could a jockey ever relate to the woeful plight of a big leaguer forced to endure a guaranteed multimillion-dollar contract without needing to produce on the field?

On the spectrum of professional athletes, there couldn't be more distance between a baseball player and a jockey. With the exception of a paltry mount fee that is hardly commensurate with the high level of risk that must be taken in each and every race, a jockey doesn't get paid unless he or she produces on the racetrack. Lucrative endorsement deals are a pipe dream - even for jockeys performing at the highest level of the Sport of Kings.

Everything is relative, of course. Baseball is big business, in which rich team owners have had the resources to shell out big bucks to players (although they are having serious second thoughts about their irresponsible actions that have created the current dire situation). Thoroughbred racing doesn't have the financial resources of Major League Baseball, so jockeys can't expect to join the big leaguers on Easy Street. Yet, jockeys still have much more reason to complain than the in-their-own-world baseball players.

There is no more well-conditioned, highly skilled and fearless athlete in all of sports than a 115-pound jockey, who is charged with the arduous task of controlling and manuevering a half-ton animal in the intense heat of competition. Jockeys, on a regular basis, make that task appear so effortless that they don't receive the credit and accolades they deserve. The danger grossly outweighs the rewards.

A thoroughbred outperforms the most sophisticated fitness machine in any gym, providing a full-body workout for their riders, who become so physically fit that they don't often fall victim to the epidemic of pulled hamstrings that regularly sideline big league fat cats. Jockeys, though, are frequently forced to deal with more serious consequences than pulled hammies.

Even NASCAR drivers don't run as high of a risk of crippling injury or death that jockeys face fearlessly several times every day. Even those riders fortunate enough to avoid career-ending or fatal injuries rarely escape serious physical harm at some point during their careers. Yet, they block fear from their minds and embrace the thrill of race-riding.

Jockeys are extreme athletes in the purest form.

Some disgruntled bettors may question a jockey's ability in some rather colorful terms at times, but they should never question a jockey's bravery.

At a time when the baseball players' union has grown too strong for its own good, the jockeys' representation has never been in a more tenuous situation. There is hope, however, now that recently retired Hall of Fame jockey Chris McCarron has vowed to try to improve the future of his riding brethren through his efforts in the Jockey's Guild.