There is currently 1 person viewing this thread.
Jonathan Haynes died on Thursday, March 28, 2024, aged 64.
On Tuesday, August 30th, 1977, the two-year-old Shiny Step ran in the 2.30 at Warwick. Later that afternoon, in the 4.00 Grove Park Handicap, seven-pound claiming apprentice and Liverpool football fanatic Jonathan Haynes climbed aboard Lord Fauntleroy. Shiny Step won at 12/1: Lord Fauntleroy was unplaced at 33/1.
Some three years later, on January 10th, 1980, the pair met up again. Shiny Step was now a hurdler and was to run in the 1.15 seller at Southwell. Jon Haynes, having grown too heavy to continue as a flat race jockey, was booked to take the ride.
Speaking later about the switch from the flat to jumping Haynes said “It came natural for me to see the stride of a horse up to a fence through having been showjumping. I always wanted to go jumping, and I was really too tall for the flat anyway, so when I began to put on weight, I wasn’t a bit disappointed. In fact, I started to eat like a pig just to make sure there was no going back. I never felt right on the flat somehow and there were even times when I felt disillusioned with the jockey’s experience then. But my first ride over hurdles changed it all. I never realised just how great racing was until that day. Taking jumps at speed must be the greatest sensation there is.”
Jon Haynes, having taken riding instructions from trainer Mr Barrett, steered Shiny Step from the paddock and cantered the five-year-old down to the start.
Born in Morecambe, Jon was one of two children of a man who, more than anything, had wanted to be a jockey. That frustrated ambition was now directed at his son, and Jon was an excellent pupil. The proud father, working as a power station chief foreman, bought the fledgeling jockey a show-jumping pony and, aged 11, Jon competed at Hickstead. It was here that young Jon approached the top National Hunt jockey David Mould asking for an opening into the racing world. Mould told him to come back ‘when he was old enough.’ This he did, two years later. Mould was as good as his word, and got him into Frenchie Nicholson’s yard, much renowned as a jockeys’ academy. Jon stayed with Nicholson for two years then joined Reg Hollinshead stables at Upper Lambourn and spent the next three years there, learning his trade.
It was from here that Jon joined the Melton Mowbray stables of ex-jockey Jimmy Harris, a paraplegic who, being the victim of a steeplechasing fall, has spent his life since then in a wheelchair.
It was for Harris that Jon was to ride his first, and only, winner over the hurdles, on Three Bars at Leicester on New Year’s Eve, 1979. “People then began noticing me” he said. “I had five outside rides.” The future looked promising.
All that changed moments after Jon and Shiny Step jumped off for the Southwell seller.
Horse and jockey, hitting a hurdle, crashed to the ground. The horse died instantly and, tragically, Jon’s back was broken. Aged 20, he too, like Jimmy Harris, would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
He was rushed to Lodge Moor Hospital from where, unaware of the true extent of Jon’s injuries, Jimmy Harris and his wife arranged to collect him.
Jon lay helpless: such was his pain that he cried out repeatedly. An annoyed nurse approached him and told him he shouldn’t be making so much noise as he only had rib injuries. When Jon continued to cry out, she slapped him across the face. She later wrote to apologise. (Jockey Bill Shoemark once took a heavy fall and was badly concussed. In cloud-cuckoo-land, he was rushed to hospital where the casualty department refused to treat him because they thought he was drunk.)
Harris told Jon that he’d come to take him home. Jon said “I’m not going anywhere because I’ve broken my back.” Mrs Harris ran out, crying. Jimmy sat frozen in his wheelchair, unable to take the news in.
As his plight became known, fellow jockeys immediately sprang to help, each one donating one riding fee to a fund set up for him. Raffles and auctions were organised and functions were arranged. An old boxing friend gave Jon the whole of his fight purse.
Jon spent exactly 100 days in hospital. He never enjoyed a full night’s sleep as he had to be turned every two hours.
His father, who had been so instrumental in his son becoming a jockey, was understandably heartbroken and found visits impossible.
Jon soon slipped into the hospital’s regimented routine: breakfast at 6.30 followed by a bath, then a morning spent with an individual programme of physiotherapy in the hospital gym. Lunch was served at 12, then back to the gym for more occupational therapy. Sometimes there would be a rather strange game of basketball, in wheelchairs, involving plenty of collisions and ‘blokes being knocked out of their chairs and suchlike.’
Eventually leaving hospital, he lived with his partner Kay Napper near Carlisle.
Whilst there can never be a happy ending to such a story, the Injured Jockeys’ Fund has done much to help him cope. He was able to buy a 72-acre farm from where he began training. He bought Silver Dagger out of Jonjo O’Neill’s stable after it had been beaten in a Cartmel seller. The horse was so recalcitrant that it had to be blindfolded to make it to the start of the gallops. Incredibly, Jon somehow cajoled four wins out him.
In 2006, recalling his accident, he said “I wasn’t bitter. It happened while I was doing something I loved. The hardest thing was losing my independence.”
Jon now is immersed in his work: pushing aside the barriers of disability, he zooms alongside his horses on his quad-bike. He drives both the lorry and the tractor, mucks out, fills hay nets, and puts horses on the horse-walker. He also used to harrow the all-weather gallops until they became flooded and unusable.
Jonathon once said “I don’t want to be forgotten in racing. I may not have done much but I would like people to remember me as a jump jockey.”
It would be difficult for anyone to forget a man of such courage.
On Tuesday, August 30th, 1977, the two-year-old Shiny Step ran in the 2.30 at Warwick. Later that afternoon, in the 4.00 Grove Park Handicap, seven-pound claiming apprentice and Liverpool football fanatic Jonathan Haynes climbed aboard Lord Fauntleroy. Shiny Step won at 12/1: Lord Fauntleroy was unplaced at 33/1.
Some three years later, on January 10th, 1980, the pair met up again. Shiny Step was now a hurdler and was to run in the 1.15 seller at Southwell. Jon Haynes, having grown too heavy to continue as a flat race jockey, was booked to take the ride.
Speaking later about the switch from the flat to jumping Haynes said “It came natural for me to see the stride of a horse up to a fence through having been showjumping. I always wanted to go jumping, and I was really too tall for the flat anyway, so when I began to put on weight, I wasn’t a bit disappointed. In fact, I started to eat like a pig just to make sure there was no going back. I never felt right on the flat somehow and there were even times when I felt disillusioned with the jockey’s experience then. But my first ride over hurdles changed it all. I never realised just how great racing was until that day. Taking jumps at speed must be the greatest sensation there is.”
Jon Haynes, having taken riding instructions from trainer Mr Barrett, steered Shiny Step from the paddock and cantered the five-year-old down to the start.
Born in Morecambe, Jon was one of two children of a man who, more than anything, had wanted to be a jockey. That frustrated ambition was now directed at his son, and Jon was an excellent pupil. The proud father, working as a power station chief foreman, bought the fledgeling jockey a show-jumping pony and, aged 11, Jon competed at Hickstead. It was here that young Jon approached the top National Hunt jockey David Mould asking for an opening into the racing world. Mould told him to come back ‘when he was old enough.’ This he did, two years later. Mould was as good as his word, and got him into Frenchie Nicholson’s yard, much renowned as a jockeys’ academy. Jon stayed with Nicholson for two years then joined Reg Hollinshead stables at Upper Lambourn and spent the next three years there, learning his trade.
It was from here that Jon joined the Melton Mowbray stables of ex-jockey Jimmy Harris, a paraplegic who, being the victim of a steeplechasing fall, has spent his life since then in a wheelchair.
It was for Harris that Jon was to ride his first, and only, winner over the hurdles, on Three Bars at Leicester on New Year’s Eve, 1979. “People then began noticing me” he said. “I had five outside rides.” The future looked promising.
All that changed moments after Jon and Shiny Step jumped off for the Southwell seller.
Horse and jockey, hitting a hurdle, crashed to the ground. The horse died instantly and, tragically, Jon’s back was broken. Aged 20, he too, like Jimmy Harris, would spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
He was rushed to Lodge Moor Hospital from where, unaware of the true extent of Jon’s injuries, Jimmy Harris and his wife arranged to collect him.
Jon lay helpless: such was his pain that he cried out repeatedly. An annoyed nurse approached him and told him he shouldn’t be making so much noise as he only had rib injuries. When Jon continued to cry out, she slapped him across the face. She later wrote to apologise. (Jockey Bill Shoemark once took a heavy fall and was badly concussed. In cloud-cuckoo-land, he was rushed to hospital where the casualty department refused to treat him because they thought he was drunk.)
Harris told Jon that he’d come to take him home. Jon said “I’m not going anywhere because I’ve broken my back.” Mrs Harris ran out, crying. Jimmy sat frozen in his wheelchair, unable to take the news in.
As his plight became known, fellow jockeys immediately sprang to help, each one donating one riding fee to a fund set up for him. Raffles and auctions were organised and functions were arranged. An old boxing friend gave Jon the whole of his fight purse.
Jon spent exactly 100 days in hospital. He never enjoyed a full night’s sleep as he had to be turned every two hours.
His father, who had been so instrumental in his son becoming a jockey, was understandably heartbroken and found visits impossible.
Jon soon slipped into the hospital’s regimented routine: breakfast at 6.30 followed by a bath, then a morning spent with an individual programme of physiotherapy in the hospital gym. Lunch was served at 12, then back to the gym for more occupational therapy. Sometimes there would be a rather strange game of basketball, in wheelchairs, involving plenty of collisions and ‘blokes being knocked out of their chairs and suchlike.’
Eventually leaving hospital, he lived with his partner Kay Napper near Carlisle.
Whilst there can never be a happy ending to such a story, the Injured Jockeys’ Fund has done much to help him cope. He was able to buy a 72-acre farm from where he began training. He bought Silver Dagger out of Jonjo O’Neill’s stable after it had been beaten in a Cartmel seller. The horse was so recalcitrant that it had to be blindfolded to make it to the start of the gallops. Incredibly, Jon somehow cajoled four wins out him.
In 2006, recalling his accident, he said “I wasn’t bitter. It happened while I was doing something I loved. The hardest thing was losing my independence.”
Jon now is immersed in his work: pushing aside the barriers of disability, he zooms alongside his horses on his quad-bike. He drives both the lorry and the tractor, mucks out, fills hay nets, and puts horses on the horse-walker. He also used to harrow the all-weather gallops until they became flooded and unusable.
Jonathon once said “I don’t want to be forgotten in racing. I may not have done much but I would like people to remember me as a jump jockey.”
It would be difficult for anyone to forget a man of such courage.
sort by:
Show
per page
Replies: 3
|
By:
Sad to hear, its a really tough game at times.
RIP |
|
By:
Sad news R.I.P
|
|
By:
How sad to have your life changed irrevocably and die so young - medical research goes on and one day, might find a cure for these terrible injuries.
|