‘I’ve never seen that’ Horrifying moment horse slaps jockey William Buick in the face, leaving him needing medical treatment for his deplorable act
In the electrifying chaos of Epsom Downs on Derby Day, a routine start to the afternoon’s racing turned into a scene of sheer pandemonium, etching itself into the annals of British horse racing as one of its most bizarre and harrowing incidents. It was June 4, 2022, and the sun-drenched Surrey track buzzed with anticipation for the Cazoo Handicap, the curtain-raiser to one of the sport’s crown jewels. Spectators, punters, and fellow jockeys alike settled in for what promised to be a spirited six-furlong sprint over the undulating Downs. But as the stalls creaked open, releasing a thunder of hooves and silken coats, an unimaginable horror unfolded in stall nine: a powerful horse, in a fit of agitation, lashed out with its head, delivering a brutal slap to the face of renowned jockey William Buick. The impact was so ferocious that it left the Norwegian-born rider dazed and slumped, requiring immediate medical intervention for what insiders are calling a “deplorable act” of equine unpredictability.
Eyewitnesses described the moment as nothing short of nightmarish. Buick, astride the Godolphin-owned Blue Trail—a sleek bay colt tipped for glory under trainer Charlie Appleby—had been methodically adjusting his mount’s position in the pre-race huddle. The air was thick with the snorts of 15 high-strung thoroughbreds, each coiled like a spring in the confined metal gates. Adjacent in stall eight stood Approachability, a three-year-old filly trained by David O’Meara, known for her fiery temperament but not for outright malice. As the starter’s signal loomed, Approachability suddenly reared, her neck snapping back with instinctive fury. In a flash, her broad forehead connected squarely with Buick’s unprotected cheek and temple, the force of the blow amplified by the filly’s 500-kilogram frame. “It was like a thunderclap,” recalled veteran Racing TV commentator Matt Chapman from the commentary booth. “You could hear the sickening thud over the crowd’s murmur—a sound that turned stomachs.”
The video footage, now viewed millions of times across social media and news outlets, captures the horror in chilling clarity. Buick’s helmet, a mandatory carbon-fiber shield, absorbed much of the trauma, but his body jerked violently sideways. For a split second, time froze: the jockey’s gloved hands flailed for purchase on Blue Trail’s withers, his legs buckling as he half-dismounted involuntarily. He slumped against the stall’s running board, eyes glazing over in shock, gasping for air as the world spun. “I’ve never seen that,” Buick would later mutter to reporters, his voice a hoarse whisper laced with disbelief. “One moment you’re focused on the break, the next… it’s lights out.” The starter, oblivious to the pandemonium in the shadows of the gates, unleashed the field with a sharp crack of the whip. Blue Trail, sensing freedom, surged forward riderless, his empty saddle flapping like a ghost in the pack.
What followed was farce intertwined with tragedy. Blue Trail, bewildered but game, galloped valiantly through the one-mile contest, weaving perilously close to rivals and even clipping heels in the stretch. He crossed the line a creditable fourth, but stewards swiftly disqualified him as a non-runner, sparing bettors’ anguish but underscoring the race’s farcical turn. Jockey Tom Marquand, aboard the unlucky second-place finisher Grenoble, vented his frustration post-race: “That loose horse cost us the win—it drifted across, blocking our run. Frustrating doesn’t cover it, but Will’s okay, and that’s what counts.” Swilcan Bridge, under Hayley Turner, scooped the spoils at 12-1, her rider crediting the interference for providing an inadvertent pacemaker. “We were just following the ghost,” Turner quipped, her smile masking the underlying unease.
For Buick, the immediate aftermath was a blur of concern and clinical efficiency. Medics from the British Horseracing Authority’s on-site team swarmed the stalls within seconds, their fluorescent jackets a stark contrast to the emerald turf. They helped the 33-year-old to his feet, guiding him to the ambulance for a barrage of checks: concussion protocols, vital signs, and neurological scans. “He was lucky,” said Dr. Sarah Jarvis, the track’s chief medical officer, in a statement that evening. “The helmet prevented a fracture, but the whiplash and soft-tissue damage required stitches and observation. Jockeys are warriors, but this was a stark reminder of the risks.” Buick, ever the stoic, waved off sympathy, insisting he felt “a bit woozy but fine.” Cleared after 45 minutes under supervision, he remounted for his next ride, guiding Modern News to a strong second in the Diomed Stakes—a testament to his grit amid the glamour.
The incident’s “deplorable act” label stems not from malice but from a confluence of oversights that racing officials are still dissecting. Approachability’s handler, O’Meara, faced scrutiny for the filly’s pre-race jitters; she had been flagged as “awkward” in prior outings, yet no additional calming measures were mandated. The starter, too, drew ire for failing to heed urgent shouts from neighboring jockeys—Jim Crowley and Silvestre de Sousa—who bellowed for a delay as Buick staggered. “It was a very bad mistake,” de Sousa told investigators, his accent thick with exasperation. “Will was half off, half on—very dangerous. We all saw it, but the gates flew open.” The British Horseracing Authority launched a formal inquiry, interviewing over a dozen witnesses and reviewing gate-cam footage. Their report, released a week later, cleared Approachability of deliberate aggression—ruling it a “spontaneous head throw”—but fined O’Meara £1,000 for inadequate preparation and reprimanded the starter for procedural lapses. “Safety is paramount,” read the verdict. “This event exposes vulnerabilities in stall management that demand reform.”
In the broader tapestry of horse racing, where human and equine worlds collide in a ballet of speed and instinct, Buick’s ordeal resonates as a cautionary tale. The sport, with its roots in 18th-century nobility, grapples increasingly with animal welfare and rider protection. Approachability, unscathed but subdued, was retired from competition shortly after, her owner citing the filly’s mounting anxiety. Buick, a two-time Breeders’ Cup winner and champion jockey in 2015, has since added accolades, including a 2023 Eclipse Award nod. Yet, he carries a faint scar above his left eye—a memento mori from that fateful slap. “Horses are miracles wrapped in muscle,” he reflected in a recent interview. “They give us everything, but they remind us we’re not invincible.”
As Epsom heals from its Derby Day scar, the racing community rallies around lessons learned: enhanced veterinary pre-stall checks, mandatory delay protocols, and upgraded helmet tech. Punters, too, have their say; Blue Trail’s odds plummeted post-incident, sparking debates on insurance for “ghost runners.” In a sport where split seconds define legacies, this horrifying moment endures not as defeat, but as a defiant pulse of resilience. Buick’s words echo loudest: “I’ve never seen that.” And in the heart-pounding roar of the Downs, perhaps we hope never to again.
