Fans were furious at the chaos at Cheltenham when the race started with Willie Mullins’ horse facing the WRONG direction causing serious consequences for Seven Horsemen who were banned for “misconduct” at the start – resulting in a number of false starts, hampering the horse’s chances.
The hallowed turf of Cheltenham Racecourse, long synonymous with the pinnacle of National Hunt racing, descended into pandemonium on the second day of the 2025 Cheltenham Festival.
What should have been a showcase of equine athleticism and strategic brilliance turned into a farce of procedural blunders, leaving punters baying for answers and stewards scrambling to restore order.
At the heart of the uproar was a bizarre false start in the Grade 2 Ryanair Mares’ Novices’ Hurdle, where Willie Mullins’ promising 11-1 shot, Maughreen, was inexplicably sent off facing the wrong direction, whipping around in confusion and effectively sabotaging her chances before the race had even begun.
This wasn’t an isolated mishap; it was the ugly culmination of a day marred by multiple false starts, culminating in bans for seven jockeys accused of “misconduct” at the tape—conduct that stewards deemed reckless enough to warrant suspensions, though the fallout extended far beyond the track.
Eyewitness accounts from the stands painted a picture of mounting frustration among the 50,000-strong crowd. “It’s an absolute joke,” fumed one veteran punter from Gloucestershire, his face flushed under the grey March skies.
“You shell out hundreds on tickets, travel, and bets, only for the bloody race to kick off like a Sunday league kickabout.
Maughreen didn’t stand a chance—turned the wrong way like she was auditioning for a circus act.” Social media erupted in real-time fury, with hashtags like #CheltenhamChaos and #FalseStartFiasco trending across platforms.
Videos of the incident, showing Maughreen’s rider struggling to rein in the bewildered mare as the field surged forward without her, racked up millions of views overnight.
For many, it wasn’t just about the lost wager; it was the erosion of trust in an event that defines the British racing calendar.
The drama unfolded shortly after midday on Thursday, March 13, under the watchful eye of British Horseracing Authority (BHA) officials. The Ryanair Mares’ Novices’ Hurdle, a highlight of Ladies’ Day, featured a competitive field of 24 runners vying over two miles and half a furlong of undulating Prestbury Park terrain.
Maughreen, a lightly raced five-year-old trained at Closutton by the legendary Mullins, had arrived with high expectations. Sired by a line of proven jumpers, she had shown glimpses of brilliance in Irish novices’ contests, her fluid hurdling and stamina earmarking her as a Festival contender.
Jockey Paul Townend, Mullins’ go-to pilot, was aboard, adding to the anticipation. But as the starter’s flag dropped—or so it seemed—the horse veered sharply left, facing back toward the grandstands instead of charging toward the first flight.
In the ensuing seconds of confusion, the race was aborted, but not before several runners had broken stride, jostling for position in the melee.
This wasn’t the first false start of the day; by evening, seven races had been disrupted, a statistic that stunned even hardened observers. The Glenfarclas Cross Country Chase earlier that afternoon saw similar bedlam, with Keith Donoghue—ironically, the eventual winner aboard Stumptown—handed a one-day ban for jumping the gun.
Stewards’ reports cited “misconduct” across the board: premature easing of mounts, failure to heed the starter’s signals, and a general disregard for protocol amid the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere.
In total, ten jockeys faced penalties by festival’s end, their suspensions ranging from one to three days, sidelining them for key fixtures like the upcoming Grand National at Aintree. “The jockeys’ room briefing that morning was crystal clear,” noted a BHA spokesperson in a terse post-race statement.
“Responsibility lies with the riders to ensure a fair and orderly start. These breaches compromised the integrity of the sport.”
Willie Mullins, the Irish maestro who clinched the leading trainer title for a record-equalling tenth time with ten winners at the meeting, was characteristically measured in his response, but his words carried the weight of experience.
Speaking from his County Carlow base days after the event, the 78-year-old attributed the chaos not to rider error alone, but to the inherent challenges of the course layout. “Starting races on a bend with that many runners is asking for trouble,” Mullins told reporters.
“You get away with it in smaller fields—six or seven horses, no bother. But pack 24 of them around a curve, and the outside ones are cantering just to keep pace with the inside.
It’s a recipe for anticipation and false moves.” He lamented Maughreen’s misfortune in particular, revealing the mare had “bruised a shoulder” in the spin but was expected back in light training soon. “She had the talent for bigger things; that start robbed her of her day in the sun.”
The incident with Maughreen highlighted broader vulnerabilities in jump racing’s starting procedures, especially at high-stakes festivals where pressure cooker conditions amplify minor errors.
Experts like former jockey Peter Scudamore decried the episode as “an embarrassment,” calling for a review of tape positions and perhaps the introduction of electronic starting gates—a technology long standard in flat racing but resisted in jumps due to terrain concerns.
Punters, meanwhile, voiced practical grievances: delayed races meant cascading schedule disruptions, with some events pushed back by over an hour, testing the patience of those who’d risen at dawn for prime viewing spots.
Betting markets suffered too; bookmakers reported a spike in voided wagers, though firms like Betfair quickly processed refunds to stem the backlash.
As the dust settled on a festival that still delivered thrills—highlighted by Galopin Des Champs’ commanding Gold Cup defense—the Cheltenham shambles served as a stark reminder of racing’s human frailties.
Seven Horsemen, as the banned riders were colloquially dubbed in tabloid headlines, became unwitting scapegoats for systemic strains, their “misconduct” bans sparking debates on culpability.
Was it overzealous stewarding, or a necessary clampdown? Mullins, ever the diplomat, leaned toward the former, suggesting penalties might have been “an overreaction” in the heat of the moment. Yet for fans like retired trainer Jenny Carter, who traveled from Devon with her family, the real casualty was the magic.
“Cheltenham’s about dreams,” she said, nursing a pint in a nearby pub. “That chaos turned it into a nightmare.”
In the weeks since, the BHA has pledged a full inquiry, promising consultations with trainers, jockeys, and starters ahead of 2026. Mullins, already plotting his Aintree assault, remains optimistic. “Racing’s resilient,” he quipped.
“Horses forgive faster than people.” For Maughreen and her connections, redemption awaits—perhaps in a quieter race, facing the right way. But for Cheltenham’s loyalists, the sting lingers, a cautionary tale etched into the festival’s storied lore.
As one graffitied sign near the course cheekily read post-event: “Next year, let’s start properly—or not at all.”
