The turf
Ascot treats
Robin Oakley
If you could have bottled and sold what trainer Sheila Williams was giving out in the winner's enclosure at Ascot on Satur- day you would have your fortune made. Eighty-year-olds, given a whiff of what she was on, would have been dumping their Zimmer frames and swinging off on roller blades. Florida vote-counters, given the chance to inhale, would have been rewrit- ing the US constitution. And, despite the fact that victory for her Master Rastus in the Sodexho Handicap Hurdle had denied me a nice treble, I found myself along with other hardened hacks grinning from ear to ear at her wide-eyed joy in victory. More breathless than her horse, the boss of a three-woman, nine-horse stable was bounc- ing around the enclosure telling everybody in sight how thrilled she was and putting the joie into joie de vivre. May Mrs Williams have many more winners to cele- brate with equal enthusiasm. She made me nearly as happy as bookmaker Barry Den- nis did when we had dinner together at the Epsom Trainers Ball that night and he told me with a grimace that not only had all six favourites come in at Ascot but that anoth- er 22 had won at the rest of the day's meet- ings. Nice to know punters are on the winning side sometimes.
Mrs Williams's victory with Master Ras- tus was not the only Saturday treat at Ascot. Upgrade and Bellator had fought out a great battle at Exeter already this season. With Norman Williamson on Bella- tor and Tony McCoy on Upgrade they Slugged out a terrific Round Two, proving in the four-horse contest that you don't need a big field to provide a thrilling race. Last time Bellator was the victor. This time Upgrade came out best in the photo, large- ly because Bellator, who had looked to be cruising coming into the straight, was not quite nimble enough at the last two fences. If they share another entry this season don't miss Round Three. And for the long term make a note of Philip Hobbs's Good Lord Murphy, who won the three-mile handicap chase on the Saturday and Char- lie Mann's Somemanforoneman, who did the same on Friday. Neither will be rushed but both look the sort who might be there- abouts in the 2002 Grand National.
Busy at Ascot on Saturday signing copies of his book The Wayward Lad was ex-jock- ey Graham Bradley. Written with journalist Steve Taylor, The Wayward Lad is a gritty account of one of the most newsworthy characters on the turf in recent years. I will declare a prejudice. I enjoy Brad's compa- ny and I rate him one of the most stylish riders I have ever seen. Some believe him to be a rogue and he has certainly been in more scrapes than a second-hand potato peeler. I go along with the mutual friend who says that Brad's trouble is not venality but gullibility, that he is the kind who will always take up the offer of the fellow in the pub who says he can sell you the new con- servatory he happens to have on his lorry outside at half price because he has just been let down on an order. And he has not been able to resist the temptation some- times to play up to his pirate's image. The Wayward Lad provides pretty convincing explanations for some of the controversies in which he has figured. But it does not cloak Graham Bradley's friendship with some mysterious characters like Brian Wright (otherwise known as 'Uncle' or `The Milkman') nor his role in some formidable betting coups. The 'no smoke without fire' brigade will seize on items like the £6,000 in cash and the £14,000 Rolex watch which, though 'legally earned', he felt the need to hide when the police came calling (later in the book the watch is described as a gift, but not from Uncle) and the eagerness not to have his mobile- phone calls intercepted. Who but Brad would have accepted payment for a horse in the form of two £5,000 roulette chips which he had to cash in at the Colony Casi- no? But enough of all that. A man is inno- cent until proven guilty. Choirboy he is not but Graham Bradley is one of the charac- ters who make racing what it is.
As a rider he has been at times sublime and I am interested to find that he agrees with my long-held belief that his second in the National on Suny Bay was the best race he ever rode. His book is fun. It gives you the clatter of the racing yard, the flavour of weighing room banter. Listen to how, in the saddle, he sizes up the personality of a horse:
I'd watch their ears because you can tell a lot by what frightens a horse. What they look at is also important, as is how they react to other horses when they come near and how quickly they break into a sweat. You can understand a horse by the way he carries his
Miss Doolittle used to be a flower seller before she met Elton John.'
head cantering and, most important, what his action is like when he is galloping. They're all different, just like a fingerprint, but whether they've got a high action or a low daisy-cutter it is the suppleness of their shoulders which is the key to making a sound jumper ...
That is how Graham Bradley, bloodstock agent, picks out a horse, always insisting on riding it first. And I wouldn't mind being behind him at the Tote window either.
Robin Oakley's Valley of The Racehorse is published by Headline at £18.99.
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