The turf
Stop, thief
Robin Oakley
preferred British movies when they all had upper-class accents.' picked it up, put it in his own pocket and melted away into the crowd.
What to do? Had I written it off to expe- rience and sat out the three races on which I had wagered, one at Warwick, one at Haydock and that opener at Newbury, Sod's Law would have ensured the three all won. There was nothing for it but to repeat the bets. But never have I watched races with such mixed feelings about the results. For myself I wanted them to win, for the b****** who had pocketed my ticket I was only too glad for them to lose.
At Newbury John Gifford's Top Note capsized at the fourth, at Warwick Karl Burke's Zahid managed only a promising fifth and at Haydock Jenny Pitman's Ten- nessee Twist also failed to oblige. So the thief gained nothing. May the curse of Oakley strike and may he suffer a lifetime of each ways finishing fourth. As for me, the sadly absent Jenny Pitman, whom we all wish well, later saw off my losses when coming up trumps with Princeful at 6-1 in the 3m 4f hurdle. Though it would have been nice if my friend trading under the John Tovey sign had not announced to all and sundry as I went up to collect, `Ah, Robin, a winner at last!'
Princeful, like his trainer, is as tough as mediaeval footwear, and Jenny's husband David Stait admitted they might now have to have a rethink about the plans to send him chasing. As he said, it is difficult to see a better staying hurdler coming out of the pack this season.
Racecourse life has its rituals and tradi- tions, like Barrie Cope's seafood, getting stuck in muddy carparks and watching David Nicholson roasting a media col- league whose comments have displeased him. Another tradition is that Hennessy Day always produces a story and a few horses to watch. Venetia Williams's success with Teeton Mill was story enough in itself. But we may have seen something special for the future, too, in Wahiba Sands, Martin Pipe's winner of the Gerry Fielden Hurdle.
Leading owner David Johnson, I am sure, was collecting only the first down pay- ment towards the 105,000 guineas the Pipe team paid for him. It was the largest sum the stable has yet paid for a horse and they would have gone to more for this big strong son of Pharly. Despite having been quick enough to win over 7f as a two-year-old, he has chaser stamped all over him. So big is he that Martin Pipe, not exactly built like a second row forward, told Richard Dun- woody he wasn't sure he would be able to give him a leg-up.
Another to note is Green Green Desert, now in the hands of the all-conquering Paul Nicholls and a ready winner of the Jim Joel Memorial Chase. It has been my rule for a couple of seasons not to have a bet in races including the seemingly quirky Green Desert gelding, a sufferer from what you might call the Sultry Blond Syndrome. If he was in the mood you were always like- ly to be on a winner, but you could never be sure when he was in the mood ... Since he had sailed in at Cheltenham before his Newbury success I asked Paul Nicholls if they had now fathomed the secrets of this enigmatic character. He denied there were any. Having always liked the horse and fan- cied having a crack at him, he does not do anything different with him at home. But he says: 'Horses like him have to be 110 per cent fit. That way they don't get tired and they enjoy their racing.' He points out that for all the rude things said about Green Green Desert in the past, Oliver Sherwood won four races with him. And this is, after all, a chaser with whom Michael Stoute once thought he would win the 2000 Guineas.
What is worth noting is Paul Nicholls's enthusiasm at the thought of getting Dou- ble Thriller back on the racecourse. In their hunter-chasing days hd was, the Shep- ton Mallet trainer pointed out, the only horse ever to have beaten Teeton Mill. Fat as a bullock at the moment, according to his trainer, his seasonal debut will be keen- ly awaited.
Newbury's splendid Hennessy meeting has given us some fun to look forward to. It also gave me the most tactful excuse I have yet encountered for not being pressed into a drink I should not have. Yet another fine racecourse tradition is a glass of Ruinart with Dan Abbott. Sadly, on a working day, I had to decline, but I felt my response was desperately lame beside that of a fellow invitee. 'I would love a glass of cham- pagne,' she replied, 'but the friend I am here with is an alcoholic.'
Robin Oakley is political editor of the BBC.
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