As he watches Origin I on Wednesday night, NRL Commission chairman Peter V’landys’ day job will be on the line.
Tomorrow, on the eve of rugby league’s showpiece event, ATC members will finally decide whether to sell Rosehill or not.
In all likelihood, the ‘no’ vote will carry the day and the $5billion proposal will be knocked back.
If that happens, the huge and influential anti-V’landys brigade in the thoroughbred industry will sharpen their blades to end his 20-year reign as the industry’s supremo in NSW. The move is already under way.
If they succeed, there should be no hesitation in changing the NRL constitution to install him as executive chair.
He can then be paid the million dollars a year he currently earns in racing. As chair of the NRL Commission, he earns about $200,000. Financially, the game has to make it worth his while.
The NRL has challenges ahead – a new television rights deal, teams in Perth (2027) and Papua New Guinea (2028) topping the list.
V’landys has brought a wealth base into the game with asset accumulation and a cash stockpile.
He has driven change and modernisation. He hasn’t been perfect, nobody in rugby league ever is. But there’s no-one better.
The new teams, and the promised riches they will help drive in the new rights deal, are his babies and are for him to bed down.
He mightn’t get as much as he thinks for the rights, but he’ll squeeze the lemon dry.
Peter V’landys, chief executive and a board member of Racing New South Wales.Credit: Louise Kennerley
In racing, he’s been an ideas man and has run it in an autocratic style with a small staff.
He’s rustled feathers but nobody can deny he’s brought untold riches to many in the thoroughbred industry as well as keeping it thriving while under siege from all around.
The gambling dollar was spreading to other sports at a rapid rate, especially among young males, and animal welfare lobby groups had the ear of politicians and the hearts and minds of many in society.
Worryingly, corporate bookmakers had eaten into the TAB’s turnover alarmingly, which was hurting the return to race clubs for prize money and, even, survival.
The corporates were taking bets, but not offering a return to racing, as the TAB was obliged to do. V’landys took them to court and won.
Soon, the coffers of racing were full.
Armed with a war chest, prizemoney skyrocketed. And not just at the top end – it boomed for regular country, provincial and metropolitan racing.
In 2016, the year before V’landys’ creation The Everest reinvigorated racing, total prize money in NSW was $196m. Last year, just eight years’ on, it was $407m. That’s astounding growth.
On top of that, breeders cleaned up as higher prize money, coupled with renewed excitement, drove up yearling prices.
In 2016, total prize money in NSW was $196m. Last year, just eight years’ on, it was $407m. That’s astounding growth.
In 2016, the average price of a yearling sold in book one of the flagship Magic Millions Yearling Sale on the Gold Coast was $193,000. This year, it was $269,000, an increase of $76,000 per horse. At 800 horses, that’s an extra $61m.
People are doing well, but they’re still off him.
Despite the Rosehill sale being an Australian Turf Club proposal, it has V’landys’ blessing.
On its knees financially, nothing happens out of the club’s Randwick’s headquarters without Racing NSW ticking off on it, another source of angst for many.
Through the bitter battle, V’landys has been wounded by a campaign led by top breeders and trainers.
Last month a blistering letter lobbed on the desk of Racing Minister David Harris, who is reviewing the governance of racing in NSW amid criticisms of V’landys’ autocratic style.
The letter said, in part: “A review is timely given that the regulator, Racing NSW, is not subject to the direction and control of the Minister for the purposes of accountability to the Parliament. Nor is the regulator subject to audit by the Auditor General.”
It claimed there was an “erosion of trust in the governance structures currently in place” and “a growing divide between the controlling body and those it exists to represent and serve”.
Typical of this bloody battle, the letter didn’t name V’landys. Timid antagonists treat him like Voldemort.
But it was about him. Self-interest means the agitators want someone else (the government) to knife him.
Among those to sign the letter were bloodstock heavyweight Vin Cox, trainer John O’Shea and Winx owner Debbie Kepitis, a breeding giant in her own right.
Gai Waterhouse also signed it and, to her credit, has battled V’Landys publicly.
It’s complicated, but the angst began when the rich new races ignited a feud with Racing Victoria, which then refused for years to endorse them as “black type”, a status of race breeders are addicted to.
The winners of black type races add value to yearlings, stallions and broodmares in the old analogue stud book. Breeders panicked that the “pattern” of black type would be distorted in future generations of thoroughbreds.
In other words, it’s about money. In racing, it always is. There’s not a lot of charity going on.
Without the sale, racing will have to go it alone with no government assistance for facelifts of facilities for years. The sale’s proceeds would give it guaranteed generations of life.
Racing has it all to lose. League has it all to gain.
