THERE is a sense of anticipation generated by the publication of entries for the Grand National, the feeling that there is a twisting road ahead before the spectacular drama of the race itself in April.

Part of that is purely a reminder of the sense of occasion evoked by the great race, but there are other aspects which instil excitement. Discovering who is missing from the entries, and whose name appears unexpectedly is a source of intrigue, and then thoughts turn to what weights will be allocated, and in turn who is likely to make the final cut.

Such issues have been less controversial as a rule since the latest raft of changes were made to the Grand National course, and the much-discussed ‘Aintree Factor’ is of less importance in allocating weights than it once was.

The vast majority of runners will find themselves running off the same mark as they would in any other handicap chases.

I say it’s been less controversial, but that would be to deny the regular pronouncements made by Eddie and Michael O’Leary regarding the treatment of their runners.

The retirement of Grand National hero Rule The World was due in part to the supposed treatment he would get from the handicapper; Don Poli was pulled from the race in 2017 in protest at the weight he was allocated, and the war of words has continued despite the loss of the O’Learys’ bete noir Phil Smith as the weights supremo.

This year, it’s all about Tiger Roll. The dual winner has been served up as sort of hostage in impromptu ‘negotiations’ between the Gigginstown duo and Martin Greenwood, the man now responsible for framing the National weights, with Michael O’Leary making emotive statements about not wanting to kill his star in pursuit of a third victory.

He’s made it clear that any blood would be on the handicapper’s hands, but that such concerns are moot as he will retire the horse if he does not get the weight his owner feels is merited.

Will he, won’t he

Such actions are, of course, the prerogative of any owner, but the tawdry way this will-he-wont-he charade has been conducted can only lead to a tarnishing of the reputation of Tiger Roll, a horse who stands on the verge of legendary status, but whose participation in the race which will confer such status is being decided by what some people will construe as a form of blackmail.

When Red Rum was attempting to win his second Grand National, he was asked to concede 1lb to a dual Gold Cup winner in L’Escargot, a turnaround of 24lbs compared to the weights the two had carried in 1973 when L’Escargot was third. Noel Le Mare didn’t threaten sanctions because of the massive turnaround in the weights.

In 1975, when Red Rum was attempting the unheard of feat of winning three Grand Nationals in succession, the handicapper asked Red Rum to concede L’Escargot 11lbs despite the latter having been just seven lengths behind in second place the previous year.

Again, Le Mare did not demur, and Ginger McCain said bring it on, with Dan Moore’s veteran finally gaining his revenge.

That being lumbered with top-weight did not discourage connections of Red Rum from continuing to compete is what made the horse such a favourite of the general public, and when he gained that third win in 1977, he passed from fame into folklore.

Tiger Roll is a horse as remarkable in many ways as the great Red Rum, and he deserves the same accolades, but being used as a bargaining chip is blocking his path to turf immortality.