By the time Alan Bailey walked out of his Newmarket yard for the final time in early 2020, he had nothing left to prove. More than 600 winners, decades at the coalface of British flat racing, and a reputation built not on flash or fanfare, but on feel, judgement, and sheer bloody-minded graft.

This week, the racing world said farewell to Bailey, who has died at the age of 86. The smaller yard trainer who made the game work without riches, who could land a touch in the big handicaps, and who never needed a PR man to speak his mind.

From Saddle to Stable

Born in April 1939, Bailey’s first steps into racing were in the saddle. He began as an apprentice to Jack Colling at West Ilsley in the 1950s, though, as he would later admit with typical bluntness, he “never rode a winner.” 

Alan became head lad to Peter Walwyn, sharpening his knowledge in Lambourn before eventually setting out under his own name in 1980. 

A Nose for a Handicap Plot

Bailey's genius was in knowing when to strike with a well handicapped horse. In the late 1980s, punters began to take notice. Not So Silly, a 16/1 shot in the 1987 Ayr Gold Cup, carried the colours of Terry Ramsden and the full weight of a yard’s faith. He duly bolted up. Years later, jockey Gary Bardwell remembered Bailey’s quiet words in the paddock: “Terry’s backed him. We’ll go well.” Rumour has it that a brand new BMW was delivered to Alan at his yard the next day - a token of Terry's appreciation.

There were two Chester Cups—first with Old Hubert in 1988, then a decade later with Silence In Court. Alan sent out winners like Wing Park in the Victoria Cup and, in his later years, Barbican—an unheralded ex-Ballydoyle horse who progressed from handicaps to Listed class with typical Bailey efficiency.

His knack for juveniles never faded either. Agrippina took the Oh So Sharp Stakes in 1999; Aspen Darlin was second in the Cheveley Park in 2008 after winning the Firth of Clyde. These were not mega-priced bloodstock purchases, just horses bought and placed with care.

Hard Miles, Honest Words

Bailey moved stables more than once, shifting from Newmarket to Tarporley in Cheshire in the early ’90s, before returning to Cavendish Stables in 2007. But his approach never changed. He watched his horses, listened to them, knew what they needed. His teams were small, but loyal. He valued horsemanship over flash, and didn’t suffer fools—or bureaucracy—lightly.

The Next Generation

When he retired at 80, Bailey passed his licence—and a handful of horses—to his grandson Joseph Parr, who’d been working as his assistant. Bailey gave him the warning any straight-talking old pro would: “Don’t do it.” But Parr, raised on the rhythm of yard life, took out his own licence and carried the family colours forward.

Legacy of a Racing Lifer

Alan Bailey didn’t court headlines. He didn’t chase fashionable owners. He didn’t talk nonsense. He ran a proper yard, trained horses to the minute, and kept punters guessing. If he told you your horse had a chance - you were in business.

His passing won’t make the news outside racing, but inside the game, it will be felt. Among the horsemen, the handicappers, the journeymen and lifers. He was one of theirs.

Rest easy, Alan. Racing was better for having you in it.