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Does anyone know who is training on the hillside just north of Cousland in East Lothian ? There is a new facility been built there in the last year or so with a barn, horse-walker, schooling fences. I pass it everyday but don’t who owns it or which trainer uses it.
Could be a ‘J A McShane’, listed as based at Dalkeith, who seems to have taken in one or two ex- George Foster horses. First horses ran at Hamilton and Perth last week.
Rob
you guys are right john mcshane trains here.(i live at the yard).if you are passing every dayyou should come for a look around we are all very laid back. btw had our second winner yesterday
At 2,200gns that makes Argentine a shrewd purchase. It wasn’t a bad race for the grade and he did the job well enough. Not a prolific winner, but often there or thereabouts and should give the connections some fun.
Rob
Welcome to the forum Foggy and good wishes for the future of the yard. It would be good if you could keep us posted on how things are progressing and just an account of the day to day happenings would be very interesting for many of us, please; as long as you’re not breaching any employer confidentiality rules. Wouldn’t want you getting into hot water.
Thanks
KenScally wag comments;-
". We have a racing programme that is underpinned by dross, rubbish racing, rubbish horses, rubbish trainers – too many poor horses in training and greedy people prepared to train them. . "
That sums up the British racing scene 2009 – perfectly.
Well, I’m off to York Races, Tom.
I’ve got my Italian suit on. Shiny new shoes; a purple silk tie and a pair of mirror lensed Aviators. A disc full of Elvis Costello, a full tank of fuel, a walletful of cash and a hot tip from The Man.
It’s a beautiful sunny day and I’m going to make some serious cash, Tom.
Serious tax free shimola.
Free pound notes. Money without work. By tonight, I’m going to need a new suit jacket because my inside pocket will be bursting with a pulsating, visceral roll of twenties so hypnotic I’ll need help getting it off the track without being mugged.
I’m going to have a couple of beers in the Knavesmire sunshine. I’m going to be admiring some
very
beautiful women in full summer bloom walking by. I’m going to bet on every race, Tom. Not just from York, but from Bath, Sandown and Hexham too. By three o clock, I’ll be buzzing like a honey bee on crack. And tonight, when I get back down the A1 to historic Newark, I’ve got a hot date with a mini-skirted, red-shoed, big haired, fulsome breasted floozy with morals so low they could limbo dance under the belly of a snake.
I’m going to have some fun, Tom. It’s a summer Saturday and there’s racing on. What are you up to today?
Scally wag comments;-
". We have a racing programme that is underpinned by dross, rubbish racing, rubbish horses, rubbish trainers – too many poor horses in training and greedy people prepared to train them. . "
That sums up the British racing scene 2009 – perfectly.
….and must be much welcomed by yourself as grist to your misery mill.
I do hope I never have to meet you, I couldn’t stand the air of depression.
CHEER UP!
Rob
Well, I’m off to York Races, Tom.
I’ve got my Italian suit on. Shiny new shoes; a purple silk tie and a pair of mirror lensed Aviators. A disc full of Elvis Costello, a full tank of fuel, a walletful of cash and a hot tip from The Man.
It’s a beautiful sunny day and I’m going to make some serious cash, Tom.
Serious tax free shimola.
Free pound notes. Money without work.
Money without work? As I live and breathe, it’s a disciple of St Martyn of Leicester!
Well, I’m off to York Races, Tom.
I’ve got my Italian suit on. Shiny new shoes; a purple silk tie and a pair of mirror lensed Aviators. A disc full of Elvis Costello, a full tank of fuel, a walletful of cash and a hot tip from The Man.
It’s a beautiful sunny day and I’m going to make some serious cash, Tom.
Serious tax free shimola.
Free pound notes. Money without work. By tonight, I’m going to need a new suit jacket because my inside pocket will be bursting with a pulsating, visceral roll of twenties so hypnotic I’ll need help getting it off the track without being mugged.
I’m going to have a couple of beers in the Knavesmire sunshine. I’m going to be admiring some
very
beautiful women in full summer bloom walking by. I’m going to bet on every race, Tom. Not just from York, but from Bath, Sandown and Hexham too. By three o clock, I’ll be buzzing like a honey bee on crack. And tonight, when I get back down the A1 to historic Newark, I’ve got a hot date with a mini-skirted, red-shoed, big haired, fulsome breasted floozy with morals so low they could limbo dance under the belly of a snake.
I’m going to have some fun, Tom. It’s a summer Saturday and there’s racing on. What are you up to today?
A predictably excellent response.
Heaven knows what our friend would have made of the fare at the annual grand (!) finale to the point-to-point season on Saturday, with mostly estimable animals running around a demented helter-skelter of a track with stretches of both bare-ish earth and roots; but be assured this paying punter, along with several thousand others, plus all the horses and their connections, had a fabulous old time of it.
gc
Adoptive father of two. The patron saint of lower-grade fare. A gently critical friend of point-to-pointing. Kindness is a political act.
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