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The stunning tragedy of Willy Kan's death bleakly brings into perspective our bi-weekly love affair with Hong Kong racing.

 No country in the world has the same enthusiasm for racing as the dedicated supporters of the sport here, where an estimated two million follow it on a regular basis.

 The vast majority are in it for betting but the thousands who turn up on a regular basis in fair weather and foul at Sha Tin and Happy Valley are also captivated by the innate thrill of it all.

 Galloping horses, vivid silks, gripping finishes, betting plunges, superb winners, unlucky losers. Racing has it all.

 And, tragically, death, too.

 Inevitably, on some racetrack somewhere in the world sometime a jockey will die. Thankfully, it does not happen often but the lurking danger is always there as it has to be when horses are ridden at up to 40 mph in tight fields and with the usual sporting determination to win.

 It does not need to be to win 'at all costs' because the inherent danger is there in any race at any time. Just a brief look back at any Hong Kong season and it is easy enough to remember a few falls, some spectacular, some mundane.

 The fall that ultimately led to Willy Kan's death may not have been routine but, in Hong Kong racing, not uncommon. Her horse clipped heels and she came down. Statistics would show that similar incidents occur every season but not, until now, with fatal consequences.

 What makes her death so starkly tragic is that she stood on the very threshold of life. Not just racing life, but life generally.

 There should be no comparisons in death but it is harder to come to terms with the loss of such a young life as opposed to the death of someone who has at least had the chance to experience a much fuller lifespan.

 Inevitably, I was reminded in those sombre hours on Sunday of Brian Taylor, the only other fatality in Hong Kong professional racing. Leathery of face and voice, he was in the last year or two of a long career, which included a 1974 against-the-odds Epsom Derby win, when he was pitched headlong into the Sha Tin turf.

 We mourned. And remembered the good days.

 For Willy Kan there was so little time that one will be left with only a few kaleidescopic glimpses of her short life.

 For me, it will long be her supremely mature performance at the very public draw for barrier positions for the Hong Kong Derby earlier this month in a Central shopping mall.

 Cameras rolled, lights blazed and the rich and the powerful were all in attendance. She was asked to draw out the marble for her ride in the big race as she was the first female jockey to be involved in a Hong Kong Derby.

 It is to the credit of trainer Ivan Allan that he gave her the chance.

 Seemingly unfazed by it all, she stepped into the spotlight, neatly attired in the schoolgirlish uniform the Jockey Club decrees its apprentices must wear, and performed her task.

 She then talked naturally and charmingly to the media. There was not a trace of arrogance or temperament about the 20-year-old celebrity who, in the nature of Hong Kong racing, had been thrust very firmly into the limelight.

 One was left with the belief that the Jockey Club had not only a talented young rider on their hands but also a little public relations gem made all the more valuable because she simply didn't know she was.

 A few days later Brian Rouse, who will be deeply shocked by her death, asked for a clipping from this newspaper for the young lady because she was keeping a scrapbook and wanted the English story 'because they wrote something nice about me'.

 Of all the thousands of words that are written in this newspaper every season about racing, I can only hope the story brought her pleasure.

 Life, of course, goes on and races will be run and won. But the death of Willy Kan does show us what a dreadful price can be paid for the great enjoyment that so many of us get from racing.

 It is also only human nature to forget and as the weeks and then seasons roll by, the life and tragic death of Willy Kan will slowly but surely slip from the memory.

 Jockey Club chief executive Lawrence Wong stated so accurately that her death was 'the passing of one of our own'. Trained by the Jockey Club at Beas River and brought successfully through to achieve considerable fame, Kan was very definitely a Jockey Club success story.

 The Board of Stewards of the Jockey Club should now ensure that, while time erodes all, she will not be forgotten.

 A most fitting tribute would be the naming of the Champion Apprentice trophy in her memory.

 It is the least she deserves.



A young life tragically cut short