Trainer Paul Robeson's jockey career was cut short by injury at the age of 22; so he became an undertaker. Photo: Mark Pinder
When trainer Paul Robeson's burgeoning jockey career was cut short by injury at the age of 22, he returned home to Hawick in the Scottish Borders to follow in the footsteps of his career-building predecessors. as a carpenter.
He went to college, got an internship, and the family business flourished during the construction boom of the early 2000s until, a year after the financial crash of 2008, when the recession hit, business died down. and the question arose: diversify or die. /p>
The owner he rode for gave him important advice: “Do what people need, not what they want, because they want luxury and what they want are necessities.”
< p> >And to some extent the answer was staring him in the face. Historically, in the Scottish Borders, if you were a joiner, you were also an undertaker, for the practical reason that you were the person who knocked down coffins for the people on your street.
Indeed, since 1877, like all carpenters A & Jay Robson was officially a “joiner and undertaker” and of course there is one certainty in life and it's not 2.30 in Kelso.
Paul Robeson in his racing days
“The Borders love their own,” Robson, 40, explains of how he has revived the entrepreneurial side of the business. “In August 2009, our only competitor in Hawick sold its property to an Edinburgh firm and announced the sale in the local newspaper. It was an opportunity to look inside, and the next week I advertised in the same newspaper that we now had a local funeral home.
“I bought two dodgy suits, a couple of cars from an old sponsor, BMW, when I rode, and the next day we had our first funeral. I had no idea, but we got a little help and we ran.
“My grandmother lent us money for a 30-year-old Ford Cardinal hearse that, when wet, was used to spill on a minister sitting in the passenger seat. Now we have a Mercedes and a couple of limousines. The first year we did 51 funerals, and now we're probably at 170.”
“The doctor turned to me and said, 'You're an asshole!'
However, the passion for racing, never fully satisfied during his curtailed jockey career, when he won only about 90 races in three seasons, never left him.
“I dislocated my shoulders five times,” he recalls. “The last time he popped out was when he jumped the second flight of hurdles at Stratford and I couldn’t get him up. At the penultimate AP, McCoy stopped, saw what was happening, and stopped mine too.
“The BHA doctor at that moment entered the emergency room, where Joe Tizzard was also sitting, clutching his broken wrist. He told Joe, “You'll be fine,” then turned to me and said, “You bastard!” They ended up paying for two shoulder reconstructions on the condition that I stop riding!
“But I always enjoyed looking after horses when I rode and training was always in the back of my mind. Four years ago we took over the old eventing ground in Spittal, shared the costs of the all-weather gallop with the landlord, and now I work two full-time jobs with 12 horses. I have to work a lot at funerals to support my studies, but I can balance it out because I don't have to take a salary from the yard.”
He now has more horses than hearses and, as well as Cannock Park, whose victory in the maiden hurdle at November's event means Robson is now one winner from one runner at Cheltenham and hoping to return in March, he also has an unlikely ally in Henrietta Knight's face. who took him under her wing.
Henrietta Knight with her best friend Photo: PA/David Davis
“I had several back operations and after one of them I spent 12 days lying on my side with my head on morphine,” he recalls of the unlikely start to their friendship. “I read Hyun’s book “Not Enough Time.” I knew she was doing pre-training, so I found her number and called her one morning at 7 am. I called her “Mrs. Biddlecombe” and she said: “I've never been called that, call me Hen!”
“I think she thought I was crazy, but she invited me to Wantage as soon as I was back on my feet. Ours would do a lot of flat work and show jumping, and in general, because I'm a fan of her methods. She took me to Ireland to see Willie Mullins, Enda Bolger, Colin Bowe and Costello, from whom she bought Best Mate, and I bounce ideas off her and her “assistant” Brendan Powell.
“They don't tell me what to do, I just run things past them and they tell me if it's a good idea or completely stupid. Hyun is very honest. She helped me buy a couple of horses and they gave me the confidence to ride from Cannock Park to Cheltenham over the odds for the first time. I would probably talk to her every day. She opened a lot of doors for me.”
“You can't pretend to be sympathetic.”
Teaching and work are not a combination that immediately catches the eye as compatible as strawberries and cream or – this time of year – holly and ivy, but Robson, who plans to take the free-flowing Cannock Park up to the Grade One Tolworth Hurdle at Aintree on Boxing Day, thinks it's a good contrast.
'You have to commit with charm, it's impossible to feign sympathy “, he notes. “The last couple of years have been tough, and three or four of [the young people’s] children have died recently.
“It’s a small town, so you always have to deal with people you know. The day before we left for Cheltenham with Cannock Park we had to deal with a friend's son who died in a car accident aged 23, so we went from that terrible fall to a huge rise.
“At work it's a constant sadness , but when you walk in the yard at 7 in the morning, the horses are happy to see you.”
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