bodyType

customContents

entityId

entityUuid

articlePageQuery

filter

article

articleBaseAdvertisingInfoArticle

articleListArticle

articleSeoArticle

hooksArticleAcknowledgementGateOverlayArticle

hooksTrackPageViewArticle

hooksContentInterestArticle

articleLinkingDataContent

hooksAmpRedirectArticle

articleSchemaContent

liveArticle

advertZone

sentiment

contentLock

topics

types

sections

paywallTypes

createdDate

publishedDate

sponsorType

urlAlias

moreOnThisArticles

commentCount

authorLocations

authors

corrections

displaySlideShow

multimediaEmbed

printHeadline

seriesContainer

articleSpeeches

socialHeadline

headline

images

flag

firstTopic

glossary

flattenTypeIds

image

relatedLinks

relatedNewsletters

__typename

sponsor

pdfFiles

seriesReverseOrder

series

disableOffPlatformContent

published

updatedDate

summary

subHeadline

body

keywords

readingTime

customTimezone

liveContents

Mathew Scott

LIKE many jockeys, Macau-based West Indian Anthony Stephen has a routine he follows religiously before each meeting. He stands in front of a mirror in the bathroom of his flat or the jockeys' room at the Taipa racecourse. He stares silently at the gold crucifix hanging low from his neck. And he prays.

But those prayers come not, as cynics might cry, for success. They come for safety.

When a jockey weighs in at around 54 kilograms (Stephen's riding weight) and the beast beneath is nearly 10 times heavier, it's not hard to figure out which one would come off second best if things in a race were to go horribly wrong.

Ask any jockey: the fear factor is as much a part of their daily lives as dealing cards is to a croupier, counting coins to a shopkeeper. And just as in those professions, horse racing is primarily about two things almost everyone seems to chase: luck and money.

While Stephen's prayers for safe-keeping as his mounts thunder down the Taipa straight are answered more often than not, it seems his words sometimes fall on deaf ears.

Last season, his first in Macau - and the first in the enclave for a West Indian jockey - Stephen's worst fears were realised.

It was your average meeting on your average day. As the field became strung out, the horse galloping immediately in front of Stephen's blundered and fell. His mount had no escape. It hit the turf, pitching the 24-year-old into the unknown.

Stephen 'escaped' with a broken leg, the words of his family back home in Trinidad ringing in his ears as he was being taken to hospital.

'They never wanted me to become a jockey,' he said. 'When I was a boy, my uncle [Michael] was a jockey and it was always my plan to do the same. But he had some pretty bad falls, so they wanted to keep me away from the racetrack.' Those falls were so bad they forced Michael Stephen from the game - a bitter end to a career that began with an award for the nation's most promising apprentice.

 Even with a decline in popularity of West Indian racing, which revolves around courses in Trinidad, Barbados and Jamaica, Stephen stuck to his guns, remained a fixture at the Trinidad training tracks, and eventually made his way into the riding ranks.

'Once, the crowds were there, and many top jockeys would come over to ride during the summer. But those days have gone. They only really come for feature events now,' he said.

Regardless of his passion for the sport of kings, on a long-term decline the world over, one wonders why Stephen - born and raised in the same district as West Indies captain Brian Lara - chose not to travel the same path as so many of his cricket-crazy compatriots. After all, it is a nation which arranges its race meetings to avoid clashing with cricket fixtures ('No one would turn up to the tracks,' was Stephen's matter-of-fact explanation).

But Stephen is a surprising character. 'No, it was always going to be racing. I don't really like cricket,' he said.

Sorry? Isn't that like finding an Australian male who's both quiet and hates a beer? Regardless, his choice was made, his destiny set, and seven years ago Stephen started his career in the saddle.

But how did he turn up in Macau in 1996? It was a place Stephen admits never even to have heard of before being contacted by Declan Gillespie (a close friend of leading Macau trainer Dan Murphy) about a one-year, freelance licence to ride there.

'Of course, I had heard of Hong Kong and China, and seen kung fu films, but not Macau,' said Stephen. 'I can remember getting out of the airport, looking around and thinking, 'Wow, what is this?' 'But the locals didn't mind that I was the first West Indian jockey here, the riding is just the same - you jump and you go.' Stephen, aiming to stay in Macau for as long as possible, has now moved to the stable of first-season trainer Patrick Lee, the future looks bright, he is hoping again for another renewal of his licence, and his Anglican faith is as strong as ever.

'I think it [religion] is the right way, and I always pray that I will return from the track safe,' he said. 'It helps me relax in my racing, and it keeps you away from any trouble.' While Chief Stipendary Steward John Schreck keeps Macau racing on the straight and narrow, some, like those who enjoy the lure of the enclave's gambling and nightlife, may suggest that avoiding trouble - physical or financial - is a tall order.

But there are other driving forces in Stephen's life. After courting Gillian for three years in Trinidad (the story goes that members of her family used to join them on ALL their dates), they were married five years ago, and have two children - Christopher, three this month, and daughter Crystal, now a year and nine months old, who was considered too young to handle the travelling and who is with Stephen's family in the Caribbean.

While he sometimes feels the strain of the Macau lifestyle, ('Back home we have a big yard, the kids can play, it's more peaceful,') Stephen realises business is business.

'I like the fact that everything in Macau is so well organised,' he said. 'And I am taking care of business here.' With a double at the meeting on February 15, Stephen moved to third in the Macau Jockey Championship with 24 winners. This on a racing scene which has attracted some of the world's leading riders. The softly spoken jockey is happy that life continues to reward his faith in the three things he says matter most: his family, his riding skills and his religion.



Anthony Stephen