Racing
April autumn?
Jeffrey Bernard
The two days racing at Newbury last Friday and Saturday were something of a glut of horse manure what with staying in the place for two nights, eating, drinking and socialising there as well during the day, losing money, then getting some back and then, eventually, going down with most flags flying. My own particular flag on this occasion was the white one of surrender. When will one learn one's bloody silly lesson? When I say one, of course, I mean me. I can hardly remember — it's been that long—when I first started fancying Formidable for the Mill Reef Stakes run on the Saturday. All 1 do know is that I just couldn't see it getting beat. Then as usual, something happened at the 'off' which put me off and got me in trouble. As the runners were cantering down to the start, I spotted Phil Bull approaching the rails bookmakers and, since that man is supposed to know just about all there is to know about horse racing, I followed him and did a spot of eaves dropping. Serves me right. have £2,000 to win Tumbledownwind,' 1 heard the sage of Halifax say and immediately went off my strong fancy Formidable. I nearly got out of trouble with a winning bet on the Joe Coral Autumn Cup winner, Nearly a Hand, but thereby hangs what might be an interesting story.
The horse won really well and, at the time of writing, stands at about 16-1 for the Cesarewitch with most bookmakers. What's interesting is the fact that his stable companion, Hallodri, stands at 16=1 with Ladbrokes, but at 20-1 with Hills and 25-1 with the Tote. Now I think Ladbrokes might have been doing their homework. The following day in Lambourn I heard loud whispers that Hallodri was more strongly fancied than Nearly a Hand for the big one. So, if you fancy a plunge on a stable fancy, I can tell you that all might not be what it seems to be. Apparently, Hallodri can stay for ever, but who knows now?
The ante-post favourite for the Cam bridgeshire, April, the first leg of the autumn double, won doing handsprings, but I've never been able to convince myself that the handicapper is that daft. Leaving aside the question of incurred penalties, horses ain't 'machines and unless they're in the Brigadier class, they just don't go on win ning and winning. I think April is almost too good to be true and, at the moment, I'm looking for something in the Cambridgeshire to couple with Hallodri. Other notable happenings last weekend included a dinner hosted by Jimmy Lindley and a Berkshire printed handout concerning local hotels. Heaven knows who writes these strange brochures. I stayed at a hotel in Hungerford called The Bear and having reigned there for two days I read that Henry VIII first settled it on Anne of Cleeves and then Katherine Howard. I actually slept in room No. 5 which had 'Henry VIII' painted on the door and which possessed a colour television set plus private bathroom and fourposter circa 1900. It was in the bar on the first morning of my stay that I read in the said local brochure, 'Inevitably, the past history of the hotel has left its stamp.' Well, you could have fooled me. I'll lay evens that Henry kept his warming pans in the bed and not on the saloon bar wall and I'll positively guarantee that he wouldn't have suffered fifty travelling salesmen to lunch for fifty chickens in fifty baskets. Furthermore, the brochure stated that Charles I used the hotel as his headquarters during the Newbury campaign during the Civil War. Being a staunch Cromwellian I then saw that the brochure recommended a hotel called The Red Lion in Chieveley which was used by the Parliamentarian troops during the same fracas. They also said that that hadn't changed a lot over the years and so you can imagine my disappointment when I got there and found that they'd run out of Slim Line tonic. In fact, the place was full of Royalists who'd parked their Rover 2000s in the car park outside. They really have funny ideas about catering do country people and if Jimmy Lindley hadn't spent so much time riding in Singapore during the winter months, then I suppose the meal in Newbury would have been a disaster.
Never mind, disasters aren't kept at bay for long. Bath racecourse on Monday was a disgrace as far as British Rail went and they just about went as far as Bath. The ice was 'locked' up, the train was twenty minutes late and on the return train the steward locked up at Swindon to 'stock take'. Whoever runs British Rail catering should wake up and sack men who want to stock take some 70 miles from London. I've been stock taking for some twenty-five years now and, racing results withstanding, I can do it without locking up. British Rail, though, have nothing on the Tote. That British Leyland type organisation who want to take over the entire business had the bloody gall to pay 75p on Rocket Lancer which was returned at 25-1. They should die, never mind blush, with shame.
Previous page
