Racing: A day when the Swedes aren't neutral

By MICHAEL GUERIN

STOCKHOLM - The first time world champion reinsman John Campbell drove onto the Solvalla raceway he was literally scared off the track.

It was 1990 and Campbell, the coolest man in United States harness racing, was in Sweden to guide superstar trotter Mack Lobell in his quest for the holy grail of European trotting, the Elitlopp.

Campbell is known as the King of the Meadowlands, a man whose sulky is the throne of United States harness racing. He has survived and prospered in a world that has spawned enough shady deals and gangsters to supply a cast of extras for The Sopranos.

The man known as Johnny C is not easily intimidated.

But nothing could prepare him for what unfolded when he rolled Mack Lobell onto Sweden's most famous racetrack for the first time.

The locals recognised the great trotter and went berserk. They started screaming and as a wave of noise swamped the stunned Campbell he headed for a safe harbour, turning around and taking the world champion off the track.

He told stable staff that something must be seriously wrong. Maybe a horse was loose on the track or a riot had broken out.

Confused locals looked at Campbell and shook their heads. Nothing was wrong, the Swedish trotting fans were simply happy to see him.

Embarrassed, he headed back on to the track and won the Elitlopp.

But that was 11 years ago, and now Elitlopp day has changed - the fans are worse.

In a country which prides itself on its manners, trotting invokes passion that borders on hooliganism.

And nowhere do those passions run deeper than at Solvalla on Elitlopp day, which just happens to be this Sunday.

To understand why one raceday turns normally conservative Swedes into raving lunatics, you have to understand how big trotting is in Sweden. No, big is the wrong word, try ... huge.

Trotting in Sweden is almost as important as soccer and actually has a higher average attendance.

It has become such a part of the national fabric that every day at lunchtime a trotting track somewhere in Sweden will open for just one race, which is always run at 12.48 pm so Swedes who need a trotting fix during their lunch breaks can have a bet. Every day that sole race turns over the equivalent of more than $1 million. Every day.

But Saturday is when the Swedes really open their wallets in support of their standardbred heroes.

In New Zealand we are thrilled to get $100,000 in the pool for Thursday and Friday night Pick Six.

Sweden has the V75, in which punters have to pick the winners of the last seven races at a designated meeting. It attracts $15 million in turnover every Saturday, even though the betting unit can be as small as 10c.

This is not the playground of diehard punters in smoky TABs. The V75 attracts the same sort of crowd Lotto does in New Zealand, and all seven races are replayed in a one-hour show on national television on Saturday night. Sort of like Lotto with some actual action.

Nobody knows why trotting is so huge in Sweden. It is like trying to explain why rugby is so huge in New Zealand. It just is, and that is that.

Trotting rules in Sweden, where thoroughbred racing is a novelty. There are 26 trotting tracks and one galloping track. Trotting accounts for 93.8 per cent of racing turnover.

Sweden's best trotters, such as Elitlopp favourite Victory Tilly, boast career earnings of up to $5 million. They have their own websites, like our dear own Sunline.

Trotting has not one, but two television channels. On Sunday, more than 300 journalists will flood the Solvalla press room, which is roughly the size of a small grandstand.

That sort of interest creates real money, and every year more than $100 million is paid out in stakes. With the Elitlopp looming, Solvalla officials have booked out an entire hotel in Stockholm for their private guests.

They have to because accommodation in the Swedish capital is at a premium this weekend as 35,000 people get ready to make their way to the track. That is twice as many people as a heaving Addington on New Zealand Cup day, crammed into a smaller space.

The trotting fans from Finland came up with a novel way around such accommodation hassles. They chartered a cruise liner, and 2500 of them will leave from Helsinki tomorrow and cruise to Stockholm where the ship will act as a floating hotel for three days before they head home, undoubtedly the worse for wear on a boat swimming in Finlandia vodka.

Of course, they won't be the only ones sporting an Elitlopp hangover come Monday.

The fans start arriving at 6 am on Sunday, the dedicated bringing banners emblazoned with the colours of their favourite driver or horse.

As the day unfolds and the alcohol casts its evil spell, the annual Solvalla streak entertains. A very brave, very drunk and very stupid male will run starkers out of the crowd, across the track and dive into the man-made lake in the centre of the racetrack. They must then endure the walk of shame back across the track, and the freezing Swedish water will unveil their shortcomings to a cheering crowd.

Then there is the race. Or should that be races. The Elitlopp consists of two heats over one mile, featuring the best trotters from Sweden, France, Finland, Norway, Italy, the United States and, this year, New Zealand.

The first four in the heats race in the $945,000 final two hours later.

The winner becomes an equine god. To become that god, one trotter must be not only the fastest but the toughest - a horse mentally tough enough to ignore the madness of this carnival in a colosseum, but physically tough enough to ignore the pain barrier when his driver asks him to go to the well twice in two hours.

Amidst this chaos of shrinking streakers, fluctuating fortunes and disappearing dreams will be the New Zealand trio of Lyell Creek, trainer Tim Butt and driver Anthony Butt.

The more sober among the crazed fans may wonder why he has a silver fern emblazoned on the sleeve of his racing colours. Anthony Butt will undoubtedly stare back, wondering what the hell he has got himself into.

Just as the mighty Johnny C did 11 years ago.