Ah, once there was a game where horses who won their Grade I would carry more weight, and then more weight, and then more weight and then they would be running not against their peers on the track but against the immortals.
The ability to carry and concede great weight the standard by which greatness was measured. The race where a runner was going to measure himself against the immortals, the most anticipated race in the sporting world.
But, hey, a horse has to hang around the track until five or six to be mature enough to run against the immortals, so let\'s sell the public on three year old racing, (which will make the fans dam grateful when we let a four year old run) and get our charges to the breeding shed.
This abandoning the raison d\'etre of the sport, the pawing off of the crown jewel so to speak, pretty much explains why the game has been running around like a headless chicken for the last ten years. The noble head of its grandest tradition has indeed been cut off.