During the 80s in Western Australia, there were none in the racing game more flashy then Laurie Connell. He was flamboyant, he was extravagant and he was filthy rich. But more than this, much more than this, he was a dyed in the wool grub. He'd inherited a men's clothing store in Brisbane, and quickly run it into a fortune that was estimated to be in the hundreds of millions. And it was done with the generous help of a corrupt state government headed by a premier who would, in the end, find himself domiciled at Her Majesty's pleasure. He wouldn't be alone, Alan Bond, the man behind that famous lifting of the America's Cup, would find similar lodgings. Laurie Connell did too. But this essay is not about greedy high flying types ripping off the system; it's about a crook who cared little about anything that didn't directly involve his own image and pocket. Laurie loved the punt. He loved the racing game, but only for what he could get from it. He was a man who at times made hundreds of thousands from a single onslaught, but was not above scamming a few thousand if the chance presented itself. At one time, he was the biggest breeder in Western Australia, a merchant banker and dodgy real estate developer. But again, this is not about the business ethics of those who eat from the top table; it's about the psyche of a man who would stoop to swindling both bookmakers and race goers out of what, for him, must have been small change. On his way to the elite level, he'd involved himself in a sordid little affair whereby he and others had taken the liberty of delaying a race broadcast from Melbourne, off loading the cash, then airing the race. Bookmakers were waiting. They felt that they had been ripped off in the recent past. It was straight to the stewards and then the plain clothes lads. Although the police couldn't find enough to link our Laurie to the hit, the stewards found him guilty of Dishonourable Conduct and rubbed him out for two years. Laurie's share of the sting? $2135. After his time was up, a newer and more determined Laurie Connell launched himself onto the racing scene. Business was big, he was filthy rich and he wanted more. He wanted more of everything. As stated, he quickly built the biggest stud in the state, carrying stock estimated to be worth tens of millions of dollars. Before long Group One wins were rolling in and Laurie found himself firmly entrenched as one of Western Australia's chardonnay swilling yobs. The bourgeouis bastard. It wasn't just Group racing that attracted the man though, he didn't mind setting up something in the country. It was one of these affairs that ended up sending Laurie to the big house. It all started in 1983 with a Cup race at a place called Bunbury, situated about 150k South of Perth. Laurie, not unaccustomed to the occasional rigging of a race, had decided to launch an onslaught on an animal called Saratoga Express, which, by the way, he just happened to own. As far as he was concerned, there were only two live chances in the race, his conveyance, and another called Strike Softly, to be ridden by the apprentice and budding crook, Danny Hobby. In the lead up to the Bunbury Cup, Danny was approached. He was offered $3,000 to bring Strike Softly undone. Hobby put two and two together and quickly realised that our Laurie must have been the driving force behind the sting. When his suspicions were confirmed, he said he'd do it for $5,000. The deal that would ultimately seal Laurie's fate, was struck. After being legged into the saddle, Danny took Strike Softly around to the barrier for the running of the Bunbury Cup. As far as he was concerned, he was on a good thing. Five grand in the sky rocket to get his mount beaten, against a few hundred if he won the race. It was a no brainer. The gates flew open and Danny hit the turf in a tangle of arms and legs. His swan dive was a shocker. There was no way he could possibly escape the wrath of the stewards. Now left riderless, Strike Softly became a law unto itself. It bolted around the field and on reaching the home bend, flattened of all horses, Laurie's Saratoga Express, which had been backed off the map. By the time the horse regained its balance, the bird had flown. The 6-1 shot Rowella had pinched a break and managed to fend of the hard charging Saratoga Express in the run to the line. Laurie had chanced his arm and done his money cold. With the stink of corruption thick in the air, an investigation was launched. As Danny was the key to the whole affair, Laurie knew he had to get the rider out of the way. He sent him on an overseas holiday, lasting several years and costing somewhere in the vicinity of a million dollars. But it would all come to nothing. Hobby would eventually return to Australia and give evidence to an inquiry. It took roughly ten years for justice to be seen, but Danny would do 3 years, and Laurie, although found not guilty of race fixing, would do five for perverting the course of justice. Between the Bunbury Cup and the prison sentence though, Laurie Connell would walk tall in racing circles. His biggest day, and arguably his most infamous one, would come on an oppressively hot Saturday afternoon in January 1987, with the running of the G1 Perth Cup, a handicap event contested over the 3200m trip. It truly was, a sad day for racing. Laurie had unearthed a youngster with outstanding potential, and decided that another betting coup was there for the taking. A rangy three year old called Rocket Racer was in the process of working his way through the metropolitan classes, and as he was still a restricted galloper, he was assured of a light weight in the Perth Cup. He was allotted just 46kg. Laurie was to leave no stone unturned in his efforts to lift not only the $200,000 in prize money, but a $500,000 sting. There would be no apprentice rider this time. He booked champion hoop Johnny Miller, an aging man who'd won the Melbourne Cup on Galilee for J. B. Cummings in 1965. Miller normally rode at 54kg, he had a month to shed the 8kgs. He would take to the saddle looking like warmed up death. Rocker Racer though looked a picture of health, he was set to the minute and was full of enthusiasm. But all was not as it seemed. Although it was never proved, the poor horse was in all likelihood pumped full of Etorphine, a substance better known as elephant juice. Laurie had just suffered the ignominy of having another of his horses disqualified for racing under the influence of the drug. His trainer had been rubbed out for 20 years. Again the finger couldn't successfully be pointed at Laurie. As the gates flew open, Rocket Racer pinged the start and looked to charge straight to the front. Miller had other ideas. With some effort he managed to get the chestnut to settle on the fence in about fifth spot. Rocket Racer was off in a world of his own though. With his head exploding, he reefed and pulled his way around the first circuit of the track, all he wanted to do was run flat chat. By the time the field had reached the beginning of the final bend which emptied into the home straight, Rocket Racer had been taken to the front by his rider, he was cruising. Miller still had a lap full of horse under him. With 400m to go, he released the brakes. Rocket Racer quickly began to put in some serious effort. In the last 200m, the horse spreadeagled the rest of the pack. After crossing the line, Miller had one hell of a job pulling the horse to a stand still. Rocket Racer completed almost an entire lap of the course before he was brought under control. Once back in the enclosure, the horse began to show signs of distress. At first he refused to move, but then it quickly became apparent that he was close to a state of collapse. Attendants rushed to his aid, locking arms around him in support. He was then led from the enclosure to the stabling area where vets took charge of him. Their immediate concern was to rehydrate the animal. He couldn't be swabbed, he was never swabbed. No samples of any kind were ever taken from the horse. He would survive the experience, and go on to have just one more race. A short while later, while spelling, Rocket Racer would be found dead in a paddock. Laurie Connell would pass away in 1996. I've included two videos.The first shows the race. Rocket Racer is the chestnut in gold colours. The second video shows the aftermath of the race.
Interesting character, Cyc. How do you bother about a sting for 2000 dollars when you've got millions? It would be easy to say that it was purely for the thrill of it all, but surely he was "a couple of sheep short in the top paddock."
A great read Cyc This really pushes my buttons though. I detest with a passion the mistreatment of animals, and the scum who do this sort of thing to make a fast buck should suffer the same fate themselves. It's a cliche, but hangings too good. I know it goes on and unless you catch someone "at it" you will rarely know.
Cyc, i've heard the outline to this story before, it was on a small tv channell here in Ireland and they were telling stories of great scams and that and this was one of them featured , obviously we didn't get as factual an account as you have written as it was only done very broadly, it's been a few year since i seen it and had forgot about it so thanks for posting this, very good to hear the whole story in fact.
before this thread disappears around the page i kept meaning to say thank you for posting. i can't believe no tests were done on a horse clearly in trouble after the end. i'm guessing australian racing has cleaned up since the 80s and this wouldn't happen now [sorry i've not looked it up]. an educational, if terrible, tale. thanks.
Thanks Petito for making an effort to post your reply. For the most part, racing in Australia is pretty clean, but there are occasions when officialdom can be corrupted. I don't know if that's the case here, but it's certainly valid to ask if that's the case here.
