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“The longfellow said little, but filled racecourses by simply getting his horses to do the talking.”
A sort of Muhammad Ali in reverse.
She released a statement today through the Jockey Club stating that due to her collar bone injury she would miss Aintree.
How many other jockeys (many more successful ) , would go to this extent to keep the public informed ?.
A cynic , would suggest that there is a continuing theme of self publicity developing here.
I know that this statement will probably sit uncomfortably with some , but perhaps the earlier comparison with Dettori is not too far from the markSo what?
I don’t blame her. If you don’t blow your own trumpet nobody else will.I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I crawled on six crooked highwaysJohn Reginald Christie ( call me Reg ) chose to perch his sixty four inch 7 stones 12 lbs fly frame not like a butterfly and a high over the saddle art form like Pigott, but similarly bent over in a squalid back street terrace without reins, but a gas tube, and no winning with his knees, just the look of a perverted monster on a killing spree.
Racing stopped for all the serious horseheads in 2008. Just ask the late form student Julian Wilson if you could. A seious, some would say boring presenter who excited racing devotees down to their socks by concentrating on the shape and form of a horse .He just hated the intro of Sunday and evening fixtures and possibly shared my despise of the soulless banal Saturday – We are all crazy now -Derby.
Longfellow hit the curves out of Nijinsky and The Minstrel – but it was a hold your breath Wednesday, a classic afternoon early in June, and they entered the annals of history with a fraction of the life lasting pain Reg meted out with an assured legacy nameplate in the London dungeon.
Lester was four inches taller and is compared in greatness with the late Muhammad Ali.
I like bryony but she’s a long way off Rachel Blackmore
Pick 3 on Saturday champion 2025/2026
The standard of posts in here is daunting and that goes for the whole the board. This excellence may be a reason the Evans’s hardly write anymore or have squirreled themselves into the lurking woodwork.
Bryony seems bright and commands a good turn of phrase but Evans could talk had an IQ of 70 and was pitched in court against the pused lips of Reg’s 125 which put him in the top 5%. Both heads were hung so despite Reg’s brain IQ he was not the sharpest tool. Being apprehended on Putney bridge when he was on the run was daft. Never never never cross a bridge – there are no back alleys doubles to run through -just the jumps that brings us back full circle to Bryony.
Hmm pursed lips and looks like the spelling in posts are being affected by site issues…let’s have a short minute for the quiet women of racing in the hope they are never forgotten
Loose talking high spirited Bryony should feel honoured to share her rippling laughter lines in these higledy pigledy pages of peaches and passion with the locked lips of the stern looking lugubrious Longfellow drawn and set in mount Rushmore rock sat next to George and Abe as an american icon who ruled at 54 and a long neck.
I think I am right in putching Royal Academy @ 18-1 the same price as Bill the Shoe’s winning mount in the Kentucky Derby at the snap same age of fifty and four.
Bill was 4 foot eleven and 7 stone dead of similarly etched granite and did two Dettori perfect pitched sixes at his home course @ Atlanta. Poor Bill had an accident driving his Bronco truck but carried on training despite his ironside limitations so get the chisel out and set Bill on the hill.
Well Joe, thank you, the Gold Cuo wins on all. Specialist top class horses with jockeys to match. 12 stones doesn’t unsettle.
Gibbot me up with Evans here – we are considering distance rather than weight but weight adds an artificial distance so although the Gold Cup is a relative shorty my defence counsel asks for a stay for my artifice m’lud.
Obviously I am referring to the heated debate on the other thread.
To get back on track to the Bryony star stir, it was an event, but there is a long precedent of jockeys falling over when holding the mic.
I had a long chat on the racecourse once with the very affable Muis Roberts the S African jockey. We discussed the racecard and the vagaries of the course, and then I said to him –
“You’re John Reid aren’t you ?”
to which he responded
by beaming
like Bryony from ear to ear with a quiet ” No I’m Michael Roberts ” rather than throwing a wobbly big Mac at me.
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