The turf
What the eye doesn't see . . .
Robin Oakley
In the days when I was fit enough to go jogging on the Blackpool front during party conferences, I was alerted one morning that some politicians were planning to don shorts and trainers for a photo-op run in aid of some probably rather dodgy good cause. Largely because it was suggested that Roy Hattersley, rather more famous in those days for his staying power at the dinner table, might join the group. I decided to run with the names in the hope of securing a medical scoop. Alas, Roy never turned up. But when we were a few hundred yards short of the Imperial Hotel rendezvous with the press photographers, puffing and panting on our return journey, we passed a bus shelter. Lurking within was the steel trade union leader Bill Sirs, who joined in, full of running, and led the bedraggled group triumphantly into the cameramen's light-popping embraces.
At the final pre-Christmas meeting at Ascot I wondered for just a moment if Nicky Henderson's Chauvinist had not done something similar. So thick was the fog enveloping the course for the 1100,000 Ladbroke Hurdle that the last flight was the only one visible from the stands, And even then through a glass darkly. But suddenly, instead of the normal frantic finish involving half a dozen horses, there was Chauvinist in splendid isolation, 15 lengths clear of the field. So big was his victory margin you wondered if Norman Williamson had had him tucked away up the straight towards the One Mile start and had only joined the others on the final bend.
Amazingly, the unexposed Chauvinist was still eligible after the race for novice hurdles, having only won his first hurdle, a maiden, at Newbury 22 days earlier. Carrying the minimum ten stone, he scooted home clear of the rest after revelling in the bog. 'They went a hell of a gallop in the conditions,' said Norman. 'Mine finished well and the rest were legless.' He is becoming the jockey to watch in the Ladbroke, having won it on Master Tribe at Leopardstown in 1997 and triumphed again last year at Ascot on Marble Arch, but you had to feel sorry for Henderson's stable jockey Mick Fitzgerald. Chauvinist would have won with another seven pounds on his back but you don't run a horse with overweight in a handicap like the Ladbroke, and Fitzgerald's frame simply does not squeeze down to the minimum ten stone. So he rode the lOst 121b Valerio, one of two other Henderson-trained horses in the race, who was clearly not suited by the going and pulled up.
I was sorry for myself, too, having advised my son, who had come racing with me in search of a Christmas pick-me-up, that the Henderson stable was red-hot and that he should plump on Valerio with a saver on Anxious Moments, trained and ridden by Charlie Swan. Swan's horse never gave the leaders any anxious moments, otherwise it was a case of right stable, wrong horse.
My paternal street cred had started the day well when I advised splitting our stakes each way in the first race between Ferdy Murphy's Tribal Venture, who won at 12-1, and Oliver Sherwood's The Lyme Volunteer, who finished second at 5-1. Oliver's Monkerhostin ran a good race in the Ladbroke to finish fifth at 40-1, and one of the best things about this season so far has been the revival in the fortunes of his famous Rhonehurst yard. They didn't have a winner that day at Ascot but any fashion consultant would have awarded Tarnya Sherwood the best turned-out prize.
Sadly, after the first my fortunes nosedived. My son Alex may have to keep out of the pub for a few weeks because I advised him and, I discovered later, a stream of callers on his mobile phone that early winnings should be played up on the two best bets of the day, Richard Phillips's Dark'n Sharp and Fenly Murphy's Truckers Tavern. Dark'n Sharp departed at the water when going well in the Cantor Index Handicap Chase and Truckers Tavern and David Russell failed to survive even the first fence in the Candtor Index Silver Cup. It turned out the only good thing I gave him all day was lunch.
I steered him away from Behrajan in Truckers Tavern's race on the grounds that the topweight's jumping was a little iffy, and I urged him to avoid Young Devereaux in Dark'n Sharp's race because the lightly raced nine-year-old had been off the track for more than a year. But Behrajan, it turns out, has been to jumping guru Yogi Breisner for coaching and Richard Johnson proved master of the horse's attitude problem as he held on well to beat Paul Nicholls' Exit to Wave. With blinkers fitted he may well win a big one yet.
Nicholls had his consolation when Young Devereaux held on well in a finishing straight tussle with the heftily weighted Seebald. Young Devereaux may have, as his trainer admits, legs of glass, but there is nothing wrong with his engine, or his courage. 'A hugely talented horse but a nightmare to train.' said Nicholls. He seems to cope with nightmares better than any psychiatrist I know.
One consolation for the Oakley family was the sensible attitude of the Ascot officials, one of whom reminded Alex early on that regulations forbade his appearance in the Members' enclosure in jeans. At this time of year it is a silly rule. I roam the Members habitually in a scruffy old Barbour, and my elegant son was in a smarter coat than anything I have ever possessed. But the reminder was a polite and friendly one and, in the enveloping gloom and with the crowds around, nobody stopped him again. Sensible Nelsonian vision applied.
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