Greg Woodfeels Kieren Fallon has gambled once too often and now faces the ultimate price

"Come on the champ," someone shouted as Kieren Fallon left the Old Bailey last month. Wrong vowel. The criminal case against him was in tatters, but thanks to near-criminal stupidity on his own part, his top-flight career was already as good as over.

He must have known it, even as he basked in the applause and vindication, and yesterday's verdict from France Galop's disciplinary panel merely applied the rubber stamp.

What a miserable way to conclude one of the great turf careers. Jockeys with a CV like Fallon's should go at a time of their own choosing, soaking up the applause on a final canter past the grandstands. Instead, there is an embarrassed silence as he slides meekly into obscurity.

Of course, any student of form could have told you that Fallon bringing himself to some final, self-inflicted denouement was always an odds-on chance. He has followed a chaotic path through Flat racing over the last 20 years, recorded as frequently in lurid headlines on news stories as on the sports pages.

But in the periods that have bridged the troughs in his career, Fallon has also been one of the great riding talents, who deserves to be mentioned not just alongside contemporaries like Frankie Dettori, but also the all-time legends like Piggott and Richards. Sure, he rode the best horses and had the best jobs, but then, so did they all, and Fallon's ability to give his mounts the best possible chance made him a hero for many punters.

He has always been a strong, forceful jockey rather than a graceful stylist, but when you have a lot of money on an odds-on chance, strong and forceful have a great deal going for them. Fallon may not play the media game as well as Frankie. In truth, he has never played it at all. Given the choice, though, most punters would probably opt for Dettori as a companion on a long car journey, but Fallon if they needed someone to ride for their life.

Some will mutter "good riddance" this morning, and there is no doubt that Fallon's baggage has, at times, done nothing for the sport that has given him a rich living. But that is to ignore what he has also brought to racing, not least a belief among spectators that they could actually see a jockey making a real difference to the outcome of a race.

That gave a raw excitement to the big-race spectacle, such as on Arc day in October aboard Dylan Thomas, that will be difficult to replace, and it is one reason why the personal failings that have brought Fallon down are so difficult to accept. Most sports have their flawed superstars, but few have one who has blown so many chances at redemption. He just can't seem to help himself.

This morning, though, with reluctance, it is surely time for everyone to move on, and that includes John Magnier and Aidan O'Brien, who have stood by Fallon so loyally until now.

Eighteen months could represent almost the entire career of this year's two-year-old intake at Ballydoyle, and it is far too long to be without a stable jockey. They may wait until after the inevitable appeal against his suspension, and its failure, which is almost as predictable. It will be extraordinary, though, if the most commercial racing and breeding operation in the world sets off on a new Flat season without a retained rider.

Johnny Murtagh was the springer in the market when Hill's opened a book yesterday, but it is the announcement of his successor, rather than his identity, which will cause Fallon the most pain. As soon as his job goes to someone else, the door to top-flight international racing will close behind him. He will be 44, and yesterday's man, by the time his suspension expires in the late summer of 2009.

He may well ride again, of course, but the chance that he will partner another Derby favourite must be close to nil. A few years punching no-hopers around the gaff tracks, meanwhile, would be as miserable for the spectators as it would be for him.

Maybe he will train, but Fallon's personality, particularly his surprising fragility and self-doubt, is hardly the obvious one for the role. Riding is what he was born to do, and what he has managed to disqualify himself from.

It can't always be easy for a shy, young jockey, blessed with an immense talent, to make his way in racing, and there were certainly malign influences seeking to exploit Fallon at formative stages in his career. In the final analysis, though, he had everything to lose on that fateful day at Deauville in August. He decided to gamble, and he has lost the lot. This time, surely, there is no way back.