By Scott Bailey
Yesterday’s return win of Ka Ying Rising off the back of his Group 1 Everest win in October was magical to watch. His outside draw and early speed to find a position only to kick again and space his rivals was racing theatre.
But instantly it reminded me of being a 17-year-old boy starting out as an apprentice jockey tuning into Hong Kong racing watching a speed machine called Silent Witness. I was in awe of the El Moxie gelding who had a similar profile to the now great Ka Ying Rising. But there were no Everests or slot races in the early 2000’s and international travel for a horse was much rarer than it is nowadays.
Hong Kong racing doesn’t hand out comparisons lightly. When a horse strings together a couple of arrogant wins, fans get excited. When a horse dominates at Group level, the whispers start. But when a sprinter begins destroying fields at Sha Tin with the kind of ease that borders on cruel, only then do we dust off the name that sits highest in the city’s sprinting mythology.
Silent Witness wasn’t just a star; he was a phenomenon. He opened his career with 17 straight wins, claimed back-to-back Hong Kong Sprint victories, and spent three seasons recognised by the International Federation of Horseracing Authorities as the World’s Champion Sprinter including a Group 1 Sprinters stakes in the very competitive Japan jurisdiction. He was so dominant that Hong Kong literally built him his own website and sold merchandise in his name. From 2003 to 2005, he redefined what dominance looked like in Hong Kong racing. He didn’t just beat world-class sprinters — he broke them. Fast-forward two decades and Ka Ying Rising is producing the kind of performances that feel eerily familiar.
Look beyond his record — though it’s imposing enough — and focus on the manner of his victories. Since arriving in Hong Kong, Ka Ying Rising has toyed with class and group company, elevated to Group 1 level without breaking stride, and produced margins that read like a sprinter operating in his own orbit. He has beaten strong fields in both Australia and Hong Kong, proving he’s far more than a local specialist. Most telling of all, every time the bar is raised, he lifts without being asked. That’s Silent Witness territory. Under Zac Purton, who has partnered more champions than most riders in Hong Kong history, Ka Ying Rising has developed a rhythm and ruthlessness that makes high-class races look like controlled exhibitions. Track conditions, field size, pressure — none of it seems to matter.
One of Silent Witness’ greatest weapons was the fear he generated. Riders would go into races hoping — not expecting — to run second. That psychological shift changes how races unfold. We’re now seeing the same pattern with Ka Ying Rising. Rivals are now riding to “beat the rest,” not beat him. Fields sit deeper, concede him control, and when the sprint goes on, the others are simply running for prize money. It’s that aura of inevitability that separates a very good sprinter from a generational one.
There are clear parallels between the two. Both possess explosive early speed without losing control. Both can lead or stalk with equal comfort, making them tactically bulletproof. Both make 1200 metres — Hong Kong’s signature trip — look like a training exercise. And both carry an untapped ceiling, the feeling that there are still gears we haven’t seen. Silent Witness didn’t taste defeat until start 18; Ka Ying Rising did taste defeat early to a horse called Wanderbar but he didn’t quite measure up to group company as he developed.
While Silent Witness left a legacy defined by longevity, consistency, and international success, Ka Ying Rising is still writing his story — but the early chapters are compelling. He’s already a Group 1 winner in multiple jurisdictions, he runs times that stack up against the best, and he breaks the hearts of rivals with a sustained sprint few can match. If he adds a second Hong Kong Sprint, and perhaps another Everest, the comparisons won’t just be justified — they’ll become unavoidable.
Silent Witness electrified Hong Kong in the early 2000s, when crowds were booming and stars were plentiful. Ka Ying Rising emerges in a different era, one with fewer icons and faster turnover — yet his performances feel like a throwback to Hong Kong’s golden age. He gives fans a reason to lean forward again, gives commentators a reason to lift their voice, and gives Hong Kong a new sprinter to be mesmerized by. And he gives us the closest thing we’ve seen to Silent Witness in twenty years a modern-day version built for today’s racing landscape but possessing the same destructive force. The legend is not yet complete, but the signs are unmistakable. Ka Ying Rising isn’t just winning — he’s announcing himself as Hong Kong’s sprinting icon and maybe there will be a new statue plan for some Sha Tin real estate.
