Without a doubt, the jockey first. That does not, however, prevent me from checking on the animal and feeling a bit sad when one of them is badly injured or killed. After all, they didn't ask to be part of this human sport!
Go ahead and call me a liberal or softie or sentimental slob but I also feel for those dead deer littering Pennsylvania's highways. Although, of course, I put the needs of people first, the deer don't realize that those streets running thru their habitats are danger zones!
I don't watch horse racing, so neither. I voted "why is Barbaro getting so much press" after all, it is an animal. When a cow gets killed and butchered, we don't see that on the news, and no one talks about it. Why should this be any different? I'm not saying I hate animals or anything, but there is no need to put it all over the news.
Other than the occasional Triple Crown event, I don't watch horse racing. Can't remember the last time I saw a horse and jockey fall simultaneously. I guess I'd think about the jockey first because (in the falls I've seen) it seems the horse gets up whereas the jockey is still at risk of getting trampled by other horses.
But having said that, I've always liked the line: I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk
It's from this poem:
HURT HAWKS
By Robinson Jeffers
I
The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder,
The wing trails like a banner in defeat,
No more to use the sky forever but live with famine
And pain a few days: cat nor coyote
Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons.
He stands under the oak-bush and waits
The lame feet of salvation; at night he remembers freedom
And flies in a dream, the dawns ruin it.
He is strong and pain is worse to the strong, incapacity is worse.
The curs of the day come and torment him
At distance, no one but death the redeemer will humble that head,
The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
The wild God of the world is sometimes merciful to those
That ask mercy, not often to the arrogant.
You do not know him, you communal people, or you have forgotten him;
Intemperate and savage, the hawk remembers him;
Beautiful and wild, the hawks, and men that are dying, remember him.
II
I'd sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk;
but the great redtail
Had nothing left but unable misery
From the bone too shattered for mending, the wing that trailed under his talons when he moved.
We had fed him six weeks, I gave him freedom,
He wandered over the foreland hill and returned in the evening, asking for death,
Not like a beggar, still eyed with the old
Implacable arrogance.
I gave him the lead gift in the twilight.
What fell was relaxed, Owl-downy, soft feminine feathers; but what
Soared: the fierce rush: the night-herons by the flooded river cried fear at its rising
Before it was quite unsheathed from reality.
always the horse (ofcourse, sometimes you cant look at any, as the race is obviously is still going and ive heard no one cares about that 100/1 shot ) first.
you can tell the fate of the horse within a few seconds (normally), then the jockey.