Punters are furious over the ‘absolutely shocking’ trip which saw a trainer banned for the ridiculous scenes
In the high-stakes world of Australian horse racing, where fortunes are made and lost in the blink of an eye, a scandal has erupted that has left punters baying for blood. The controversial extension of a ban on celebrated trainer Darren Weir, stemming from footage of him using electric shocking devices—known as “jiggers”—on racehorses, has ignited widespread outrage. What began as a four-year suspension in 2019 has now ballooned to six years following fresh admissions of animal cruelty, with punters decrying the “absolutely shocking” and “ridiculous” scenes captured on hidden police cameras. As the racing calendar hurtles toward spring carnivals like the Melbourne Cup, this saga threatens to cast a long shadow over the sport’s integrity and its passionate betting community.
The drama unfolded in September 2024, when Weir, once a darling of the industry after masterminding the 2015 Melbourne Cup triumph with underdog Prince of Penzance, pleaded guilty to a slew of charges in a Victorian court. The accusations were as graphic as they were damning: using jiggers to deliver electric shocks to three horses—Red Cardinal, Tosen Basil, and Yogi—on 25 separate occasions. Accompanied by his then-assistant Jarrod McLean and stable hand Tyson Kermond, Weir was filmed administering the devices while the horses, fitted with blinkers, recoiled in distress. McLean was also recorded striking the animals with plastic piping on their hindquarters, a crude method allegedly designed to condition them to associate racing gear with pain, spurring them to run faster under duress.
Racing Victoria stewards, who had initially banned Weir for four years in 2019 after he admitted possessing the devices and conduct prejudicial to racing’s image, piled on with additional penalties. The new charges included three counts of animal cruelty and one of improper and dishonourable conduct, extending his exile from the track until at least 2027. McLean and Kermond faced their own reckonings, with bans of three years and two months respectively for cruelty offenses. The footage, leaked to the public and described by one equine expert as “stomach-churning,” showed the horses’ panicked reactions—tails swishing, heads jerking—as the shocks zapped through their sensitive areas. “It’s medieval torture dressed up as training,” fumed Dr. Leah Sullivan, a prominent veterinary surgeon, in a statement that echoed the sentiments of animal welfare groups worldwide.
Punters, those die-hard bettors who fuel the industry’s estimated $8 billion annual wagering turnover in Australia, have been particularly vocal. Forums and social media are ablaze with fury, with one prominent punter, Sydney-based accountant Mark Reilly, posting on X (formerly Twitter): “I lost thousands on Weir’s horses thinking they were legit contenders. This isn’t racing; it’s a rigged circus. Ban him for life!” The backlash stems not just from the ethical horror but from the betrayal of trust. Bettors rely on the illusion of a level playing field, poring over form guides, odds fluctuations, and trainer reputations to place their stakes. Weir’s stable, once a powerhouse with over 200 winners in a single season, had been a go-to for sharp punters chasing value in big races. Revelations that the jiggers were used to “educate” horses—making them bolt at the sight of blinkers—have retroactively tainted past results, prompting calls for investigations into affected races.
The scandal’s roots trace back to a 2018 police sting operation at Weir’s Warrnambool stables, where undercover cameras captured the illicit sessions. At the time, Weir’s empire was at its zenith; he’d just notched a historic clean sweep of the 2018 Adelaide Cup carnival. But the jigger footage, combined with unrelated charges of betting corruption involving unregistered wagers on his own horses, shattered his facade. “Weir wasn’t just shocking horses; he was shocking the soul of the sport,” said Racing Victoria chief steward Jamie Campton in a press conference last month. The devices, battery-powered gadgets resembling cattle prods, deliver jolts up to 10,000 volts, far beyond what’s needed for humane handling. Experts note that such abuse can cause long-term nerve damage, behavioral trauma, and even cardiac issues in horses—ironically, the very athletes meant to embody speed and grace.
This isn’t Weir’s first brush with controversy, nor is it an isolated incident in a sport long plagued by whispers of dark practices. In 2021, Irish trainer Gordon Elliott was sidelined for six months after a photo surfaced of him posing triumphantly on a deceased horse’s corpse, drawing global condemnation. Closer to home, the 2023 doping scandal involving trainer Luke Comer saw 12 of his horses test positive for anabolic steroids, earning him a three-year ban and a “quite unprecedented” rebuke from Irish authorities. Yet Weir’s case stands out for its visceral brutality, amplified by the video evidence that has gone viral, amassing millions of views and shares. Animal rights organization RSPCA Australia has seized on the momentum, launching a petition to overhaul racing’s welfare standards, which currently lag behind those in Europe. “Punters are the lifeblood of racing, but they’re turning away in droves over this,” warned campaigner Lisa Ferrier. Surveys from betting giant Tabcorp indicate a 15% dip in engagement among casual wagerers since the news broke, a worrying trend for an industry already grappling with declining attendances.
Defenders of Weir are few and far between, but some in the racing fraternity argue for nuance. “Darren was under immense pressure to deliver winners in a cutthroat game,” posited former jockey-turned-pundit Glenn Munsie on a recent Sky Racing panel. “Jiggers have been an open secret for decades—it’s time the BHA and Racing Victoria cracked down on everyone, not just the fall guys.” Indeed, whistleblowers have hinted at a broader culture of corner-cutting, from over-whipping to performance-enhancing supplements skirting the rules. The Australian Jockeys’ Association has called for mandatory body cams on trainers during sessions, while bookmakers like Sportsbet have pledged to donate a slice of Cup Day profits to equine charities as a goodwill gesture.
As the dust settles, the ripple effects are palpable. Weir’s former clients, including high-profile owners like Black Caviar’s syndicate, have distanced themselves, vowing to support only “clean” operations. Upcoming sales at Magic Millions and Inglis auctions are buzzing with questions about stable practices, and punters are shifting bets toward trainers like Chris Waller and James Cummings, whose records remain unblemished. For Weir, now 55 and facing a potential career obituary, redemption seems distant. In a rare statement through his legal team, he expressed “profound remorse,” but skeptics dismiss it as damage control.
This scandal underscores a pivotal moment for horse racing: will it evolve into a transparent, welfare-first spectacle, or cling to its shadowy underbelly? Punters, burned by the “ridiculous scenes” of jolted horses and shattered dreams, demand the former. With the Melbourne Cup just weeks away on November 4, 2025—a race Weir once owned—the question looms large: can the people’s game reclaim its thrill without the sting of betrayal? For now, the fury simmers, a stark reminder that in racing, the real shocks aren’t always the ones that win.
