The turf
Some consolation
Robin Oakley Iought to have known that it was not going to be my day when, halfway through the morning shower, my wife informed me (well, she did put it a touch more dramati- cally than that) that water was coming through the sitting-room ceiling below. We have never quite formalised things as the pre-war Fabians Sydney and Beatrice Webb did with their marriage contract, which stipulated that he would make the big decisions and she would make the small ones, the rider being that she would decide which was a big decision and which was a small one. But each marriage needs one practical soul, and so my wife decided that I should still go racing while she remained in charge of the plumber and the credit card.
Unfortunately, decision-making did take long enough for me to miss the hoped-for train and to arrive at Ascot, with my mobile phone on the blink, too late for the first. That was won by John Akehurst's Romero, an animal you may recall me recommend- ing three weeks ago after his previous Ascot win and intended as my main bet of the day. Needless to say, he !rad won at 2-1. Three weeks before he had been John's first Ascot winner in ten years' training. Having the day before scored with Pem- broke Square, which did carry a few Oakley shekels, he. is now making a habit of them. My selections for the second and third races both finished fourth, which might sound like a reasonable near-miss tribute to my perspicacity were it not for the fact that there were only four runners in the second and five in the third. In the second, the John Doyle Steeplechase, the cheer going up around me when Carole's Crusad- er came to the front had already left me with a sinking feeling. Although she was the outsider of the four, David Gandolfo's mare had been the medium of a significant racecourse gamble, down from 20-1 in the morning to 11-2. Thanks to my late arrival I was probably the only punter in the Press Room who wasn't on.
Carole's Crusader was not the kind of lady who accepts a victory gracefully. In the unsaddling enclosure she kicked over a bucket and several times menaced the admiring press pack. She was in a foul mood this morning too,' said her trainer, chiding the hacks whose papers had sug- gested his mare needed the other three to fall to be in with a winning chance. Just as well the intrepid punters hadn't known. One of them beside me as good as rode the last half mile himself as it was.
I lost more money when Nicky Hender- son's Makounji toppled over in the big race of the day, the First National Gold Cup Chase, when still going well. Once again, the result was a big Saturday winner for the remarkable Venetia Williams, whose Nor- dance Prince ran out a comfortable winner in the hands of Richard Johnson on his seasonal debut. 'Everyone with a nice novice last season spots this race when sit- ting on a beach in June,' said the trainer, revealing just how relaxing her holidays must be, curling up with a good form book. Yes, she had targeted the race 'along with everyone else' and, yes, she had been confi- dent although aware it was a very competi- tive contest. What she would not tell us was what she had said to regular rider Norman Williamson when he had opted to partner Eddie O'Grady's Irish raider Nicholls Cross (who finished third) instead.
Ivor Herbert shares my admiration for, the Williams operation and he was recall- ing how, when he spotted her talent some years ago, he interviewed Venetia Williams and was alarmed to hear of her practice of turning her horses out in a field together. Surely there was a risk of them injuring each other, he inquired, only to be told, 'I only put friends with friends.' A trainer who knows her animals' characters that well is a rare bird indeed.
A brief audience with Venetia Williams was one consolation on a troubled day. The other was that my summons from the race- course to attend to other duties following Lord Archer's scratching from the London Mayoral Stakes did not come until a split second after Mark Pitman's Monsignor had passed the post an 18-length winner on his hurdling debut. That was a real display of class. The winner of the Festival bumper looks a real prospect and Mark has him marked down as a potential Gold Cup win- ner in 2002. Keep an eye open too, though, for Richard Rowe's Hariymi, a fast-finish- ing third who was given a sensible introduc- tion by Barry Fenton.
The other consolation was that if you have to share an overcrowded railway car- riage from Ascot back to Waterloo it is best to do so surrounded by Irish racing folk. The group next to me had clearly had a good day, and one of them was not going to overstrain himself in the week ahead: 'Over to Ireland on Thursday, hunt Friday, race Saturday, hunt Sunday and back on Mon- day.' One of them inquired of another about the state of a racing acquaintance's love life. Did he have a steady girl at the moment? 'Nothing regular,' came the answer, 'but I'd say he has a full book of rides.'
Robin Oakley is political editor of the BBC.
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