Go Jill!

We may have a new reader. There was a press outing today to 'showcase' (I think that's the 21st century word that is appropriate) the Aussie horses who will fill the trifectae in next week's sprints and Emma went along to it. There she bumped into Paul Haigh, and sent him away with details of this blog and strict instructions to have a look whenever he has nothing worthwhile or entertaining to do. We'd suspected a while back that he might already be a reader after something I'd written appeared with slight alterations in his column a couple of days later (I think it was one of the Lemons - probably the original lemon - who pointed this out) but it turns out that must just have been a coincidence of minds thinking alike. I went along to the tail-end of the feast, after all the food had been cleared away unfortunately, after I'd finished pretending to do my proper job but Paul had gone by then, I presume either to write the column which is likely to appear in tomorrow's Racing Post or to have a bet on the 10.05 at Kenilworth.

I probably could have got there a bit earlier, but I've been feeling a bit more like a zombie than usual today, courtesy of a very late, but very enjoyable, night last night. Jill did us proud, battling like a trojan to fail by two rapidly diminishing heads behind two in-form horses at Windsor. She showed real determination and stamina, so she can run in a slightly longer race next time and I hope she will continue to do well. If she doesn't, it won't be for lack of courage, because she is a real fighter. If every runner we had ran so honestly and well as she did yesterday, I'd be very happy and very proud. She had a very big supporters' club yesterday which was great, and we all repaired to a pub in an idyllic nearby village called Bray for an excellent dinner which Fiona had done wonders to organise. All in all, it was an excellent evening, but a late one: we got home at around 1.15. I didn't listen to Alec Guiness while driving, for obvious reasons.

We also had a very nice start to the day yesterday, because we had the pleasure of Gerry Supple's (right) company for the morning. Diligent followers of National Hunt racing will know that he has been a jockey with the Pipe stable for years, and he's an excellent rider as well as being a really nice guy. He'd said a while back that he'd call in one time he was in Newmarket, and I was delighted when he called me on Sunday evening and asked if we could do with a hand in the morning. He rode three horses, and the highlight was on Brief Goodbye, who seems on really good terms with himself at the moment. Brief can pig-root quite rudely when he's feeling on top form; I didn't see it (I heard a squeal and a crash of hooves hitting plastic railings behind me) but Aisling told me that Brief had put in a really lively jump while we were trotting on the Severals rings, and that Gerry had just acted as if nothing had happened, and had not even shifted in his seat the slightest. Jump jockeys really are horsemen of the highest calibre. We showed Gerry the photo we have on the wall of his brother Willie winning at Newmarket on our dear departed friend Benedict.

The days have been very busy, with another activity being going to Dalham Hall Stud three times in the past week. Centre of attention was the mighty Sulamani (left), a photograph of whom I took which may illustrate this chapter. I'd seen him there in November 2004 with Michael Tidmarsh, just after the horse had come out of training, and he wasn't a good advertisement for the horse husbandry of Godolphin. However, he has undergone a transformation since then, and the before and after is the best advertisement one could have for the care which the stallions receive at Dalham Hall. He looks lovely, so strong and so well. One can still see slight signs of the wear and tear he sustained during his previous career, but it's now easy to believe that he is the same Sulamani who raced so well and so bravely all around the world for three years. I loved him as a racehorse, and felt that his achievements spoke volumes for his courage and his class, and it was a real pleasure to inspect him last week. It was also nice the same day to see two other lovely heads poking over doors: Diktat (below) and Doyen. To the former I passed on greetings from his daughter Imperial Decree.

Here's an idea. How about we come up with nominations for the dullest article of the year? I'll set the ball rolling with a feature (which I haven't read - but the title surely tells the tale) which appears in 'European Trainer' a magazine which Eric the postman put through our letter-box this morning. This magazine is supposedly the official publication of the European Trainers' Federation, but I have my doubts about whether such a body exists. I've never knowing been enrolled or been given the opportunity to enrol, but I still receive the (unsolicited) magazine, which contains no details about how to become a member. I suspect the whole thing is a scam to sell ads. It's actually quite a good magazine and does always contain a few interesting articles. Anyway, the front cover lists the attractions inside, as front covers do, and attraction number two in this edition is "Horsewalkers: circular or oval". I don't think that one needs to read that article to work out that it will make Alec Guiness' musings seem on a par with a Michael Connolly. So please keep your eyes open and see if you can come up with any similar articles. The Victorian Bar Review is often a fertile source of good material.