- This topic has 34 replies, 10 voices, and was last updated 17 years, 1 month ago by
.
- Posts
Can`t make the trip myself David unfortunately but hope you have a great evening. May we come first and second and return safely.
Thanks to David, my first trip to Aintree since sitting on a policeman’s shoulders to watch Oxo win the National. Will be sadly nostalgic because it’s one of my first childhood memories of being out with my late parents. I do recall, however, dying for a wee wee and I have this image of ny trousers being wet when the policeman lifted me down.
I’m looking forward to it all and will post my experience later tonight.
Cheers
KenOooh, what a great run by Galant. Very well done, fella!
Definitely a future winner before long.
.Well, what an experience! Where to begin? Firstly, by expressing my sincere appreciation to David, much younger than I imagined, clean cut, quietly spoken and the kind of guy who you know talks straight and sensibly. If I was in the market for horse ownership, having met David, I would have no qualms whatsover about seeking his advice. He has a quiet calm about him that would reassure you that you he would have your best interests at heart. Enough of the personal endorsement, now for the adventure…
Arrived at the Owners and Trainers car park at 4.30 to be politely directed to my car space. Everyone was very helpful in pointing out the way to the office to collect my blue badge which, as David promised, was there waiting for me. I received a racecard and made my way to the course proper. I was a bit taken aback by the enormity of the stands but surprised by how much shorter the run-in seemed compared to television images. The bookies were setting-up and I recognised a few names, Whelan being the one I most associate with Liverpool.
I then took a stroll around past the burger stands and the Tote windows and looked at the large TV display out on the course to see the runners milling around the start at Newmarket. I quite fancied one that was running but looked around thinking there might be somewhere to have a bet but couldn’t find anywhere so was a little disappointed to see my fancy Summer something win.
I then headed to the parade ring and watched each of the horses come round about three or four times, with no idea what to look for other than I tried staring at their eyes with most staring back except one who cocked his head away. I thought right, black mark, I’m not backing that one, he doesn’t like me. I was surprised how small some of them were compared to a friend’s eighteen hands horse. Some seemed like ponies. Then the jockeys came out, some I recognised e.g. Tony McCoy, has the air and walk of a champion with a chest stuck out like a proud bird of prey. I think he should be nick-named The Vulture. Well, the race didn’t go to plan. For a start, you definitely need binoculars to see the live action. The big screen is fine but takes away the ‘living’ experience for me. As you’ve guessed the race was won by the horse who looked away from me. Now, had I have been at home, I’d have probably have stuck to my normal £5 bet but because I was unsure what the ‘norm’ was with the bookies I upped my stake to £20, though it was fun going along the row of stands looking for one who’d missed a trick and was giving the best odds on my fancy. Gotcha’ Mr Bookie, gained a point compared to the rest. Well briefly, anyway, because by the time they were off they’d all moved out to bigger odds than I’d backed. With one hurdle to go, I was in with a shout but the winner had gone clear after the last and I ended up in second place. If I’d had the nerve I was very tempted to compliment the jockey, Nick Schofield, as he passed by, because it was only his horse that ran out of gas late on.
Provided nobody complains, I’ll continue tomorrow. I really am a little exhausted now.
KenGood man, Ken. Now, do we manage to get you to come to Cartmel next?
gc
Jeremy Grayson. Son of immigrant. Adoptive father of two. Metadata librarian. Freelance point-to-point / horse racing writer, analyst and commentator wonk. Loves music, buses, cats, the BBC Micro, ale. Advocate of CBT, PACE and therapeutic parenting. Aspergers.
Thanks tb and gc, to the latter – Cartmel would be fine but happily, next month, I hope to be re-locating South, to somewhere within a stone’s throw of Huntington and Newmarket.
The saga continues….
Having recovered from Race One and watched the ‘presentation’ of a bottle of Champagne which was something of a let-down, I just think that within the prize money framework, they could build in a more-lasting tribute to the winner. I had expected a nice piece of cut glass/silverware. After all, some horses might only win once in a lifetime and surely a more significant acknowledgement than a bottle of bubbly would be a fitting tribute.
Before race two, having given the horses the once-over with my, by now, expert eagle-eye, I quite liked the look of one filly who was leading her horse around and I thought if the horse is as fit as her then we’re on to a winner here. So off I ventured toward the bookies pitches again.
Only this time it was different. The hordes had arrived. From the relative peace and calm of the parade ring, within a matter of one hundred yards, the atmosphere was completely different. I remember the point at which the relative silence suddenly became a crescendo of noisy, inebriated, uncouthness. It felt both intimidating and obnoxious. I’m all for people having fun but this was more like being in the middle of city centre clubland after closing time. Now I realise, this was hen night, stag night, yobbo night, fancy dress night, shortest skirt night, drink as much as you can night, litter night, in fact any kind of night you can think of that is as far removed as possible from my idea of what a trip to the races should be like. But there is no way I would subject my dear Aunt and nephew and niece to that spectacle. On the other hand, by my reckoning that partying multitude formed the vast majority of paying customers present so perhaps course revenues depend on attracting the party animals.
I chose not to hang around for long and quickly placed my bet at the best odds available. One thing that struck me was the number of bookmakers using computers, presumably to hedge the bets. What has happened to those colourful big cardboard receipts I remember from my greyhound days? Now it’s just a flimsy print-out. What has happened to the sales pitch of the bookies? I don’t think I heard anyone shouting the odds or having happy banter with the punters. They all looked as miserable as sin, devoid of personality.
Needless to say, my ‘spotting the winner’ skills went slightly askew, a gallant third, I think.
I then ventured into the Lord Derby/Sefton Stand, up three tiers passing soaking wet carpets beause one side is open to the elements and there appeared to be a drip, drip roof leak on the top floor. What I’d also noticed so far this evening was the number of staff present, from the moment I arrived at the car park, everywhere to be seen there were dozens and dozens of employees each seeming to have a particular role to play. If only our hospitals were as well-resourced with staff. Though I had a free meal and drink voucher, again courtesy of David, I regret to say I did not take advantage of it. Perhaps, because of isolative, domestic duties over the past three years, my social skills and confidence has deteriorated and I felt too inhibited to go into the restaurant area on my own and order a meal. I should get out more often but hopefully my change of scenery next month will see the re-emergence of the old Ken.
At this point, I must mention the total admiration I have for the stable lads and lasses. It was so obvious how much they cherished their horses. It was a joy to watch them show so much affection. I also witnessed Graham Lee give a really genuine pat down the neck to one particular horse as he was leaving the unsaddling area. But more of that later………happily, next month, I hope to be re-locating South, to somewhere within a stone’s throw of Huntington and Newmarket.
Oh, you poor bugger. I’m based in north Hertfordshire nowadays, and there’s a stack of TRF racegoing regulars in Northants also, so the threat of a meet-up at a Huntingdon or Towcester meeting suddenly looms larger!
Very much enjoying the write-up so far, Ken, and the absorption of all that was good and bad about the evening in equal measure. Per one issue you’ve raised;
Having recovered from Race One and watched the ‘presentation’ of a bottle of Champagne which was something of a let-down, I just think that within the prize money framework, they could build in a more-lasting tribute to the winner. I had expected a nice piece of cut glass/silverware. After all, some horses might only win once in a lifetime and surely a more significant acknowledgement than a bottle of bubbly would be a fitting tribute.
That’s a nice point. I suppose there may simply be relatively few races run at Rules courses nowadays that are run for a perpetual trophy or plate or somesuch.
Certainly it seems proportionally less than in point-to-points, where at some meetings there seems to be something of that nature handed out after every or nearly every race.
One meeting I work at Hackwood Park gives a perpetual trophy – or equivalent – to the winning owner of each race, plus 16 cans of Fullers London Pride each to the owner, trainer and rider. Last year owner-trainer-rider Godfrey Maundrell won two races on the same card. You do the maths beer-wise!
I seem to have it in my mind somewhere that there were more perpetual cup Rules races around when I was ickle, but maybe I just noticed them more back then. Someone on here will know. Someone always does!
gc
Jeremy Grayson. Son of immigrant. Adoptive father of two. Metadata librarian. Freelance point-to-point / horse racing writer, analyst and commentator wonk. Loves music, buses, cats, the BBC Micro, ale. Advocate of CBT, PACE and therapeutic parenting. Aspergers.
Glad that you (mostly) enjoyed the experience Ken.
Galant Nuit ran a blinder. The Aintree fences are riding big and he coped well enough. He got the strong early pace that we wanted and stayed on to be 18 lengths clear of the 3rd. The winner,Aleron, won very well having jumped well & largely stayed out of trouble. Graham Lee was wonderful on ours…hunting him around, attacking some fences and leaving others to be popped and challenging at exactly the right points. With a clear run (he was slightly hampered ) we may have been closer but no complaints – a very good run. At 5yo he may have plenty more to come.
A note about Aintree – excellent O&T facilities provided (utilising the restaurant facility & balcony on level 3 of the Earl of Derby Stand). Also invited connections (not just of winners but of placed horses too) for a post race drink.
Ken,
Bad news. You will also be within an hour or so of me (that’s how long it takes me to get to Cambridge more or less) which means you will have no excuse not to attend the first meeting at Horseheath next season or to meet up at Victoria for a trip to Charing and it wont take you that long to get to Kingston Blount either. I can also recommend trips to Higham, Ampton, Cottenham and Northaw and no doubt Jeremy will arrange for you to meet with him at Hackwood Park.
So much to look forward eh?
Thanks GC and bbobbell, I look forward to becoming a TRF groupie. (Good guesswork bbob..).
Final Chapter:
It would seem that my memory of the evening has more to do with senility than reality. The events surrounding Race Two, as described yesterday, should read as Race Three.
In actual fact, Race Two was the highlight of the evening. This was to be Galant Nuit’s moment of glory.I was sat on a stool by the parade ring when David telephoned. We soon met up and he introduced me to a friend/associate, (Stan, I think) and we proceeded to enter the parade ring, soon joined by trainer, Ferdy Murphy. Stan and I remained a respectable distance away while Ferdy and David discussed tactics. I asked Stan what he thought of the runners that Galant was up against and rather discreetly he told me that he had had a bit of an investment on Sotovic. Brilliant, I thought, this guy looks as if he’s got a few bob, maybe he’s a professional gambler and is putting me on to a good thing. I must lump on.
With the formalities out of the way, David headed off somewhere else and I followed my newly-found punting maestro friend, Stan up to the Restaurant in the stand, though I was keen to get my bet on before the off. When we arrived there, Stan pointed out the table and then said to me "I think the toilet is down at the bottom of the room" I sort of looked at him blankly, hesitated for a while, and then he repeated his direction to me that the toilet was further down the room. I thought, "I don’t need to go to the loo, does he think I need to wash my hands before I have something to eat?" Rather than offend the guy I said, "Okay, thanks" and walked in the direction he was indicating, only to find that what he’d meant to say, and what I’d misheard, was that in the far corner of the room was a Tote terminal! I really should get my hearing seen to. Anyway, all thoughts of loyalty to Galant Nuit abandoned I placed my significant investment on Sotovic and then went out onto the balcony to duly see it come a cropper on the first circuit but this wasn’t a bad thing because it left me free to be concentrating on the brave performance of Galant.
I commisserated with Stan on his wayward investment on Sotovic, without telling him I’d followed him over the cliff, and we headed back to the unsaddling area, where Graham Lee was giving substantial feedback to both David and Ferdy. It certainly seemed to me that, based on what I’d seen, it wouldn’t surprise me if we haven’t witnessed the seeds of a potential future National horse in the making. Fingers crossed.
Then we all went our separate ways, the last I saw of David was him heading into a room where I could see a tray of champagne flutes. I left Stan to do his own thing and then as I described yesterday I gave the runners in the next race the once over. Funnily enough, it only struck home yesterday that the winner of the third race was Thumbs Up, and anyone who followed my recent Conundrum Thread on Daily Lays might recall that it was this very beast that put a stop to my brilliant run of nine consecutive losers. If only I’d remembered this at Aintree I could have got my own back at him by giving him a really sinister look in the parade ring.
During the fourth race the skies began to blacken, it was drizzling and visibility was deteriorating. Having lost on four races, getting damper by the minute, I decided to head on home, pleased that I’d ventured out amongst people again since my recent bereavement.
Would I do it again? Preferably as an owner (unlikely, given my finances) but certainly with a group of fellow racing enthusiasts. Possibly going on my own was not the ideal scenario because it left too much time to observe the negative aspects. I also think that a parade ring viewing area open to the elements might be fine on a dry, sunny day but given how the weather changed so dramatically on Friday, I really felt for everyone associated with the horses when the heavens opened. A covered umbrella style parade ring is not a lot to ask and I would have thought a necessity given the British climate.
Thanks for reading, Folks. Who knows, I might just turn up at a racecourse near you, dread the thought.
KenThanks for the report. Ken……………….it was just like being there.
By the way, I often go racing on my own and by public transport.
Colin
A tremendously enjoyable review, Ken!
Full of warmth and humour. I’m delighted you had a most pleasant evening.Ken, can I just add: did you receive my PM of 2 days ago in reply to yours?
That was onlly the second such mail I have ever sent during my five years on TRF …………. and I fear I may have pressed a wrong button.
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.