Well, it's not quite as serious as that, but there is always the question at this time of year as to what is the exact point that the good ship flat racing takes a nervous peek around a craggy headland, grimaces at the stormy swell and says, "That's it for me lads. I'll leave the rainy afternoons to the boys of winter. I'm off back to safe harbour. See you all in April."

There are many that insist that the flat season ends with the Arc de Triomphe in early October, especially if there has been a performance of exhilarating brilliance that will warm the memory through a cold winter. There is another camp that clings greedily to the summer code as far as the Dewhurst Stakes at Newmarket, convinced that it contains the winners of next year's Guineas and hedge the expense of Christmas with a lucrative ante-post docket. They are often right.

Finally, there is that growing band that will only recognise the start of the National Hunt season when Henrietta Knight publicly agonises over the going at the track she has chosen for the return of a stable star. For them the season began last week when Knight withdrew Racing Demon at Carlisle on account of the heavy ground.

All of the above are in fact, incorrect. The National Hunt season begins at 20 past one next Friday, the tipping point being when the tapes go up for the first race of Cheltenham's three-day November festival meeting, and despite an interesting epilogue in Melbourne on Tuesday, the flat season actually ended at about 25 past 10 last night.

The last race at the Breeders' Cup meeting draws the curtain on a global flat season that has been, in soccer parlance, a 'game of one half '.

The early season promise of great deeds and memorable stories from the likes of Speciosa, Hurricane Run, and Barbaro was largely replaced by the triple frustrations of injury, absence and loss of form. With the exception of the epic Goodwood battle between Ouija Board and Alexander Goldrun, or the Dewhurst epic when Teofilo outbattled Holy Roman Emperor, it is hard to instantly recall any race that caused heartbeats to genuinely soar.

Now contrast this with one single steeplechase at Exeter last Tuesday when there were almost as many talking points and excitement in five minutes of bloodless carnage than was seen in the previous six months of racing on the level.

The Haldon Chase was for years one of Best Mate's three annual outings and the scene of his unfortunate demise this time last year. Tuesday's contest attracted more interest than the quality of the race deserved, largely because Best Mate's connections hoped Impek in the same colours could provide an emotional anniversary tribute to their triple Gold Cup hero.

It was a race littered with casualties and by the second last fence only one horse, Chilling Place, stood between the front running Impek and glory . . . and he was closing fast. Then, just as he cleared the second last he was assaulted by Impek's stable companion, ironically Racing Demon, who at that stage was galloping loose and erratically, unencumbered by either a jockey or a brain, having dispensed with both at an early fence. He floored Chilling Place with a brutality that made Ben Thatcher's infamous tackle at Manchester City earlier this year look like nothing worse than a friendly nudge.

The twin essences of the National Hunt sport was captured in the microcosm of this one race . . . the continuity of the return of familiar equine characters and the constant expectation that something strange or wonderful is about to happen.

At this time of year National Hunt racing is loaded with many possibilities for greatness, but as usual the season will hold the normal mixture of the good, the bad and the ugly. One of the uglier aspects lately is the seemingly insatiable hunger for revenue at any cost displayed by the executive management of Cheltenham racecourse. This season they seem intent to continue an irreversible and almost literal race to the bottom.

The recent extension to four days has badly impacted the mood, quality and rhythm of the festival and now to pile insult on to injury they are now considering adding the unthinkable to the unpalatable and the introduction of a 'Ladies Day'. No doubt this will be to try to maximise gate receipts for the very poor Thursday card.

'Ladies Days' at British racetracks can be a far cry from the decorous and elegant parade of the finest in Irish womanhood we are familiar with on these shores.

If they go with the idea it could well resemble a cross between Ibiza and a Saturday night hen party in Temple Bar with a little bit of National Hunt racing thrown in as a diversion. If Cheltenham continues to alienate their traditional customers with this sort of gimmickery it may not be long before the goose that lays the golden egg will be found lying prostrate on a mortuary slab in Gloucestershire.

Hopefully, these unwelcome diversions will not distract too much attention from the magical deeds of great horses, most of them Irish, and great horsemen, all of them Irish, over the next few months. The golden age for our jump jockeys looks set to continue with the likes of Ruby Walsh, Tony McCoy, Barry Geraghty and Timmy Murphy all armed with some serious winter ammunition.

There has been much focus over the last few years on our cluster of great two-mile hurdlers and their monopoly on the places in Grade 1 races.

However Brave Inca, Macs Joy, Harchibald and Hardy Eustace may face a dangerous challenge from England this time. The winner of last year's County Hurdle, Desert Quest won a handicap hurdle at Ascot last week pulling a bus.

Even though he carried top weight he may still have to improve a stone to beat our best, but the look of satisfaction on Walsh's face as he pulled him up suggested that he at least thought there may be a lot more improvement to come.

The long distance chasing division will be equally intriguing, principally because it offers the mouthwatering prospect of Kicking King and War of Attrition arriving at the last fence together in the Gold Cup.

Kicking King has been off for a year with a tendon injury and there is an old adage in the game that they never come back. However the noises emanating from the Tom Taaffe stable are very positive and hope springs eternal.

If we are treated to such an epic next March there will only be about a month to wait before we see the return of skinny legged two-year-olds to our flat racing tracks.

Hopefully by then it will have seemed a very short winter indeed.