At a time when racing is tormented by its public image, and the need for an audience broader than punters and boozers, those in power should pray that the biggest race of midsummer is won, today, by Mick Channon and Youmzain. Irreverent, unstuffy, blunt and amusing, Channon has the common touch and populist past of a natural ambassador.

Not that he toes the party line. In a milder moment this week, Channon described racing's administrators as “a bunch of clowns”. He says the Guineas is too early, the Derby's midweek slot was “thrown away” and the 48-hour declaration system is “a disaster”. He also suggests that the sport would be far better run by one of his principal training rivals.

“I'd love Mark Johnston to be in charge,” he said. “He's got a great brain, he understands racing and he's articulate. He even knows how to use those bloody computers. And it would suit me if it was him, because he wouldn't be in opposition any more.”

There is plainly no bad blood since Nahoodh was sold and sent to Johnston after unluckily failing to give Channon his first classic win in the 1,000 Guineas. “She should have won the Guineas but it's nothing new to me to lose a good one. The frustration is that I bought her for only 19 grand. We do buy horses that win group races. We have to do that to make the business work ... but we've bought a lot of crap, as well.”

Channon, as sociable as he is philosophical, has an enviable ability to move on and refocus. One game at a time, as his managers probably preached during his 20-year football career. But when he swapped sports and started training, in 1990, even the optimist in him cannot have imagined settling in the Queen's former yard at West Ilsley with more than 150 horses.

Nine years after moving in, it remains a work in progress. “The history here is fantastic but that doesn't pay the bills. It's very old and we've had to make big changes but we're still miles away from how I'd like it. It becomes a monster. Once you start, you're committed to making it work.”

Channon has been known best for two-year-olds, hence the huge annual turnover of stock. “Very few of my horses were here a year ago,” he said. “You can't forget your core business but I would like to move on and get more middle-distance horses. Right now, Youmzain is the only one worth talking about.”

That he is being talked about so much tells its own story. He is Channon's finest advertisement and if, in contesting his eleventh successive group one today, he wins the King George, he could elevate his trainer's admirable second career to new heights.

The notion that this race is losing its lustre brings an explosive riposte. “What a load of s***e. If New Approach was fit, he'd be there. Same with Authorized last year. They knocked the race then, and still the best mile-and-a-half horse around won it.”

Youmzain was second last year, then second again in the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, beaten both times by Dylan Thomas. The epic in Paris may be remembered as Kieren Fallon's golden farewell but Channon still believes ardently that Youmzain should have been awarded it in the stewards' room.

“He got beat fair and square and, in this country, we'd have had no case. But there was something wrong - under French rules, we should have got it. I've suffered under their rules before and they bent them that day.”

Compensation came belatedly, when Youmzain returned to France last month and beat Soldier Of Fortune, from the same yard, at Saint-Cloud. “So many Frenchmen seemed relieved we'd won,” Channon reflected. “I think they felt there had been an injustice.”

Today, he must face another odds-on shot trained by Aidan O'Brien in Duke Of Marmalade. It is for Channon to hold back the tide of Ballydoyle domination but, typically, he neither ducks the challenge nor accepts that the one-dimensional nature of this summer has become a bore.

“I remember, one year, Aidan O'Brien going home from Royal Ascot after the first day. His horses were all wrong and he took his bat and ball home. This is a great leveller. Ballydoyle set the bar right now but what do we do, just give in and plough up our gallops? I like the competition. I don't like getting beat as often as I do but it's up to us to get the horses to compete.”

In his recently built office, a wonderful black-and-white image of Channon and his pal, the late Alan Ball, grinning like schoolboys during a Southampton game, has pride of place. It is a reminder of his golden past.

But what of the future? Channon patently loves the life but he will be 60 later this year and faces an operation on his arthritic foot. “I've thought ahead a bit, you've got to. My youngest son is racing mad and might take over one day. But there's a lot to do before then.”