The Honest Toun

"... So, apart from that, Mrs Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?". Well the funny thing was that this time I really did enjoy the rest of the play. Watching Marvin Gardens' race at Musselburgh, of course, was far from fun, because it turned out to be an awful long way to have gone to discover that trying him over a mile and a half wasn't a good idea, but otherwise how can one not enjoy an afternoon at Musselburgh? It had been too long since my last visit there. I know Kelso prides itself on being "Britain's friendliest course", and I certainly wouldn't contradict that, but Musselburgh really does give it a run for its money. The fact that they are both in Scotland, of course, is no coincidence. It was just so good to be back. Everyone is so friendly. I saddled George Margarson's horse for him, and it went without saying that, when he saw me doing so on my own (which was very easy, as the filly, who ran well to be second, is a really sweet and gentle horse), Jim Goldie came straight over to lend a hand. It is just so different from being in England, because the Scottish racing community is such a good one. Everyone one sees, whatever their role, makes you feel as if you are at home: Bill Farnsworth, Fran Marshall, Sheilagh Dodds, Jim Beaumont, Keith Mason, Dick Allan, Peter Monteith, George Foster, Tommy Cuthbert, anyone else employed by the racecourse in any role, 1,001 racegoers etc., etc., etc.

The good thing about Marvin's disappointing run - and this really is accentuating the positive - was that there were no 'ifs' or 'buts'. David Allan rode him faultlessly, but he just didn't get the distance. In retrospect, Yarmouth four days previously over two furlongs shorter - which had been the initial plan - would have been a far wiser choice, but that for a variety of reasons had been eschewed. So we went to Musselburgh, learned that he didn't stay, and reminded ourselves that, if you're going to watch a horse run badly, there are few more pleasant places to do so. I'll have to make sure that it isn't three or four years, or whatever it had been, until my next visit.

Tomorrow shall see Sandown on our agenda; and if it's Sandown, it must be Brief Goodbye. Brief loves the place, it's not the strongest race and I and Gemma both think he's in great form, so we must hope for the best (again). In any amateur race anything can happen, and particularly in an international invitational one, but if our hoop takes to Sandown, and if Brief takes to our hoop, then we can expect a bold showing.

Looking farther ahead, Fairyhouse looms on the horizon next week. At the moment it looks as if Emma and I will go there for the second and third days. The average on the first day is signficantly higher, so we'll have more to chose from later in the week. I don't know if trying to minimize one's expenditure makes one a frivolous buyer, because I read in today's Racing Post that Henry Beeby is pleased that "we were missing no serious buyer of yearlings" at Doncaster. I'd like to think that I take the buying of yearlings very seriously indeed - in fact, I'd be surprised if people who buy ten times the amount of yearlings that I do spend as much time studying the catalogues as I, nor inspect the yearlings of whose pedigrees they approve as closely as I - so perhaps Henry was just misunderstanding the word 'serious'. But, make no mistake, yearling selection time is as serious as there is. There is no point in my attending a sale where the average is 35,992 gns and where very few horses fetch four-figure sums, but Fairyhouse is a place I'm very happy to visit. In fact, the only winners we have had this year - Jill Dawson, Lady Suffragette and Imperial Decree - are all Fairyhouse graduates, at an average of around £7,500, and they are actually the only yearlings I have bought there over the past three years. So we'll head over there next week and try to unearth another future winner. Off the top of my head, other winners I have trained who have come from that sale include Diamond Joshua, Seaside, Rocco Tower, Diamond Maxine (and Diamond Max, whom I trained for a brief period at the end of his distinguished career also came from there after I suggested to Steve Goodwin that he might fetch very little money but could still become a nice horse) and none of those were very dear - so you can understand why I like the sale.

On the subject of our former inmates, one of the most loved could be in action again soon after a long absence from the track. Micky Hammond was at Musselburgh, and I was delighted to hear from him that dear old Big Bertha, whom he bought a couple of years ago, is ready to run and is entered at Sedgefield next week. I do so hope she can win for him. She hasn't run for ages, and I was worrying that she might have gone permanently amiss, but apparently he just never ran her last winter because the ground was so wet all the time. I was very touched when Micky bought her solely on my recommendation, so I would feel bad if it turned out that I had done him a disservice. Let's hope that that proves not to be the case, and I'll certainly be cheering for her wherever she runs.

I must just share one little gem with you. Fortunately the cassette player in the horse box I drove to Musselburgh worked so, although obviously the radio provided good entertainment for much of the time, we were able to enjoy an alternative during the times one wants something else. Avoiding the Jeremy Vine show is, of course, wise at the best of times, but today, the tenth anniversary of Princess Diana's death, was an occasion to give it an even wider berth than usual. But it was inevitable that we did catch odd snatches so, if ever you are trying to explain to someone just how bad radio in this country can really be, see if you can unearth a recording of the bit when he was imploring members of the public to phone in if they were getting involved in the day's services of remembrance so that they could explain to the audience why they "need closure". At that point, a cassette was re-inserted so that Martha and I (and Petit Julien Numero Deux, our passenger and my room-mate) could resume the process of deciding which songs Midlife Crisis should think of adding to their repertoire. So, according to our findings, Jim, you should be practising a few Beach Boys numbers (in Martha's view) - but I'd love to hear you sing 'Working Class Man'.

Heading home with Marvin and hope

How successful was our trip to Huntingdon? Not at all. How disastrous was it? Same answer. Like so many things in life, it could have been better, but it could also have been a lot worse. Our Racing UK is playing up so I've only seen Jack's race live (mostly from ground level on the side of the track) plus a TV replay at the course - of which I only needed to watch 20 seconds - and I've only watched Lady Suffragette's race live, but I think I've seen enough. It's hard to work out exactly what happened at the first fence of Jack's race, but I think I've pieced it together. Basically Jack seemed to approach the fence OK, seemed to jump it OK, if a touch cautiously, and then he skidded to the ground in a melee in which he seemed as much culprit as victim. It became clearer once Jonjo O'Neill had filled me in how he understood the incident: Tony McCoy had related to him that their horse had propped suddenly going into the fence and had lurched over the fence diagonally and slowly, colliding with Jack to cause the melee of which Jack was the primary victim, with the two horses which Jack brought down then being the secondary victims. And that was that, apart from the gallop twice around the track which the trio of loose horses enjoyed before they eventually ground to a halt.

If anything, I enjoyed watching the following race even less than I'd enjoyed watching Jack's. It was clear from an early stage that Lady Suffragette was going to give herself a very tough run and would finish the race weakening and tired. She didn't get covered up at any stage and thus inevitably over-raced, which has happened two or three times on the flat but which I didn't expect ever to be an issue over jumps, other than the time when she found herself left in front at the first hurdle at Towcester when her rivals were so green that they all approached the jump in the manner of McCoy's novice chaser yesterday, and the small field thus opened up like the Red Sea in front of her. (Would that that had been the situation with Jack yesterday, rather than closing around him like the Red Sea did on the Egyptians once the Israelites had passed through!). Anyway, no real harm done. One can tell today that Lady S has been in the wars a bit, but that's nothing that a few quiet days won't cure. And Jack seems A1. Tom and I have discussed yesterday's races, and I'm confident that the same mistake won't be made when he rides Lady Suffragette next time, so we now look forward with hope.

Apart from that, Mrs Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play? Well, apart from watching the races, it was a very enjoyable trip to Huntingdon. We had a great gathering: Trevor and Sheila Deadman of the Premier Cru, Lawrence Wadey, Aisling O'Neill, Gordon and Pat Kenny, James Dowsett, Roger and Zoe Vicarage, Suze Ingle with Bilkie's new keeper Amanda, Jamie Trotter and Camilla Millbank. Plus plenty of the usual friendly faces that one might have expected to see there. An added bonus was Lawrence staying here overnight afterwards, so we had a drink in Cambridge on the way home and then dined in the pub in Fordham, where the coincidental presence of Ted and Sue Durcan was an extra bonus.

I now hope my next trip will be similarly convivial but contrastingly successful. Tomorrow Martha and I will be heading across the border with Marvin Gardens, who is engaged in the last race at Musselburgh on Thursday. Twelve furlongs will be a big step into the unknown, but I feel he ought to rise to the challenge. He certainly should be very, very competitive if everything goes right. It certainly wouldn't be the biggest shock if he were to salute, certainly not as far as his jockey will be concerned: David Allan is best remembered, in my mind at any rate, for riding a 100/1 winner for Stuart Williams a couple of years ago. Whatever happens, we should remember how lucky we are to have Marvin enjoying an active life, as I had reason to recall this morning when flicking through his passport and chancing upon some veterinary letters placed there three years ago when the horse was a yearling. You might have picked up references previously to Marvin's innate skin disorder, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome. How about these for some veterinary opinions? "It tends to be dramatically progressive and the prognosis is extremely poor. It is unlikely that the colts' (sic) skin will be able to stand breaking and tack ... There is no treatment for the disorder and therefore when progresses (sic) the only realistic option is euthanasia." I find the sentence which follows this rather amusing: "Please do not hesitate to contact me if I can be of any further help with this matter"! (I must, incidentally, at this point pay tribute to the horses' former trainer Phil McEntee for getting Marvin broken and training him for two years without signficant problems, which was a far harder task than the one which we have had, because by the time he reached us he was well accustomed to tack so had reached the stage where he didn't need to wear it for long periods). So there you are. Marvin, you bewdy, by your continued enjoyment of an active life you continue to confound the veterinary world. Good on yer: keep passing the open windows.

A lovely day at the Curragh

Big relief - our much anticipated trip to Ireland was a success. Not a huge success, sure, but a success, because all ran smoothly, the filly ran bravely and creditably, and she achieved the primary target of finishing in the top ten, which was what was required to make it a profitable excursion. In fact, the €3,750 she earned for running ninth was more than she collected for winning at Yarmouth! I haven't received the transport bill yet from the BBA, but eleventh or worse would have seen a four-figure loss for the weekend, whereas ninth of tenth meant a four-figure profit. So every place counted.

I had genuinely approached the race on the basis that, as long as we had realistic prospects of making the top ten, then it was worth going. And that, I thought, was a fair assessment of Imperial Decree's chances. However, unbidden expectation started to build when we found that Spotlight in the Racing Post had tipped her and made her joint-favourite. She was, in my view, always going to be vulnerable dropping from seven furlongs to six, especially as she had taken time to find her feet when winning over seven, and especially as a big field and very sticky going would make making up ground hard. We - Emma, Aisling and I - got to the Curragh around 10 am, and were very pleased to find the filly looked relaxed and not seeming to have lost weight in transit. Leaving the stable yard, we bumped into Willie Supple who very kindly, seeing that we were at a loose end, invited us to his house for breakfast. While perusing the Irish Field there, we were stunned to find our filly tipped in that paper too, so the unwelcome weight of expectation gradually started to mount through the morning. The hospitality of Tattersalls Ireland, who laid on a great welcome for connections in a large box on the top floor of the stand which provided a superb view over the Curragh, helped to keep the nerves at bay, and the bulk of the Principes were able to while away the time before our race in comfort and style. I say the bulk, because there were a couple of hard luck stories which had led to late scratchings: John Nelligan had been hit by a recurrence of back trouble, while Liam Richardson - and how unlucky was this? - had presented himself at the airport in Belgium that morning for his Dublin flight, only to be told that the flight had been not delayed but cancelled. Unbelievable. That was terribly unfortunate, but it was good to see the rest of the team, and fair play to Tattersalls and to the Curragh entertaining all connections so well. Anyway, the time for our race duly arrived, and mission was accomplished: in the money. Of course we were all harbouring hopes, encouraged by the media, of collecting a larger share of the prize than we did, but the fact that we didn't does nothing to detract from the fact that Imperial Decree ran very well and very bravely, and that Wayne Lordan - to whom many thanks for his perseverance - rode her really well. I was very proud of her as I believe were all of her connections, and I think and hope that we all went away with the same thought: how lucky we are to have a sound, genuine, talented filly, competing with honour in a big race. I'll leave the last word to Wayne Lordan: "She's a smashing filly".

The best horse at the Curragh on Saturday was not, of course, competing in the Tattersalls Sales Race, and it was a real thrill to watch New Approach, who fully deserves his favouritism for next year's Derby, stretch out to extend his unbeaten record in the Futurity Stakes, sponsored by Coolmore in honour of New Approach's sire Galileo. He's seems to be Jim Bolger's latest star, but the Coolmore team also showed us a good one, as Queen Of Fame, a member of Danehill's last crop, won on her seasonal reappearance, Wayne Lordan wearing the second colours on her. Kieren Fallon wore the first colours on Diamond Necklace, the increasingly exposed grey Unbridled's Song half-sister to Shamardal who showed many of the signs of a horse who is looking unlikely ever to win a race. The day was finished with the usual post-race parade of stars, as Aidan O'Brien and Dermot Weld both had some of their magnficent (but unidentified by us) horses subjected to pretty strenuous work-outs by some of the country's best jockeys after racing. Watching that was an interesting end to a lovely day at the races, one on which we were reminded of just what a friendly welcome one always receives from the Irish racing community, and as we bid farewell to our filly we headed for the airport very content.

I hope that we shall be able to come home from Huntingdon this afternoon similarly satisfied. As if Jack's first steeplechase wasn't enough to worry about, we have Lady Suffragette in the following race. Both should run well, but we'll be wiser come 4.30. I'd rather have run Lady S in the novice handicap hurdle at Cartmel on Saturday but, surprise surprise, we had the lack of stabling bringing racing's silliest rule into play and, when she should have been carrying saddle-cloth 13 and 11 stone 1lb in a 14-runner field on Saturday, she stayed at home while eleven runners contested the race. It has meant that she has instead to contest a tougher race today, but at least it's more convenient. That, of course, isn't the point - but one has always to try to identify every cloud's silver lining.

The good thing was that I didn't have time to be too irritated on Friday when I learned that Lady S had been eliminated again, because we had a full morning - which included Chris Dwyer coming in to gallop Racie Gracie, who performed satisfactorily on a murky Railway Land - followed by a full afternoon, courtesy of Steve and Kerry Oldfield, thanks to whose invitation we enjoyed lunch and tea on the July Course. That made for a very pleasant afternoon, which confirmation of Millyjean's limitations in the claimer didn't spoil. Three winning selections from seven races given to the assembled company by Steve Smith-Eccles was a good achievement (and unprecedented?) and contributed to an interesting and enjoyable afternoon.

I'll just finish by sharing with you one final thought which we took home with us from the Curragh. At any big race day in the UK, Gerry Chesneaux is someone one is always likely to see. His omnipresence in England, of course, guarantees his simultaneous absence in Ireland, but I was pleased to discover that he seems also to be a big factor on racecourses over there, as it appears that he has cornered the market in soft porn on Irish racecourses. The stands at the Curragh are decorated with some lovely photographs, including a great, really big, one of lovely Alamshar outpointing the great Dalakhani in the 2003 Irish Derby, but few of the photos are as eye-catching as the ones which Gerry seems to have been able to hang on the walls there. I noted that, to save confusion, he omits the final 'x' from his name in the title of the 'fashion' - ie soft porn - side of his empire, but he has to be congratulated on the sights at which he gives male Irish racegoers the opportunity to ogle. We haven't been doing too well as regards illustrations on blogs over the past week or two, but I hope that this might be put right here, because it goes without saying that, in the interests of conscientious journalism, I had to take a couple of snapshots. They are very worth seeing.

Autumn in August

I've recently finished reading a beautiful novel entitled 'Summer In February', which phrase evokes a lovely image, which becomes even more special once one reads the book. Unfortunately, we have the opposite. I'm tempted to say that we have the absolute opposite, which would be winter in August, but autumn in August is probably more accurate. The government, talking heads and boffins will be happy, because this summer has pretty given the global warming theory a severe jolt, but I'm not. And I don't know if seeing York on television bathed in sunshine makes things better or worse: here we've had two days of solid rain (again), the type of days on which a hot bath is the automatic choice once morning stables eventually end. However, other than the fact that my theory that shorts are the preferred attire for riding PARTICULARLY WHEN, rather than unless, it's raining has been severely tested (and I'd maintain that it has passed the test, because I'm sure I'd have been even less comfortable in long trousers), today has actually been a very pleasing morning.

We - ie Cliff and I - had an early start today, because he and Imperial Decree departed at 5.30 for the Curragh, on a truck which also contained two horses trained by Peter Chapple-Hyam. Our filly and her travelling companions are due to run in the Tattersalls Sales Race on Saturday, which is an exciting thought. It will be a very competitive race, but she has earned the right to be in it. The prize is very good so it was an easy decision to take her there - the main aim is to finish in the first ten, which would make the trip profitable - despite the fact that I would be more confident of her chances if the race were over a furlong farther. We have a very good jockey engaged (Wayne Lordan, who used to ride quite a bit for us when he was over in Newmarket one winter five or six years ago) so, now the filly is on her way, there is nothing to do apart from look forward to what will be our first Irish runner since Largesse finished third in the Blandford Stakes (Group Two) at the Curragh nine years ago.

Once the filly was safely on the road, the usual morning's work could begin, and three horses stick in my mind as having earned top marks. Aisling was extremely pleased with Lady Suffragette's work and I was similarly delighted with Brief Goodbye when we took them six furlongs along the Cambridge Road all-weather strip; and then Filemot was a model pupil when Kirsty, accompanied by Martha on Millyjean, gave her some stalls practice in heavy rain at the end of the morning. Filemot might/will probably make her debut at Musselburgh next Thursday, and Marvin Gardens, who galloped this morning with Martha up Railway Land, will probably accompany her to Scotland. That, too, is something to look forward to, especially as they will be our first runners for maybe four years at a course where we have been very successful in the past. It won't feel right spending the afternoon at Musselburgh without the late, very much missed, Joe McCarthy, but I know that he will be with us in spirit, and he will be cheering the two horses on from above. Between now and then, in addition to Imperial Decree's run in Ireland, Millyjean will probably run at Newmarket tomorrow (one might be tempted to scratch her because we have eschewed wet tracks with her in the past, but I think that the evidence that she doesn't handle them isn't conclusive: granted she ran very poorly in soft ground at Yarmouth earlier this year, but then again she has run similarly poorly on various other surfaces as well); Lady Suffragette might have run at Cartmel on Saturday (Eliminator permitting - and I note that the stable yard there isn't big!); and we hope that Jack will have had a safe - fingers very much crossed - steeplechasing debut at Huntingdon on Monday. And I hope that by then it might have stopped raining.

The Eliminator's Axe (Part ...)

Mmm - the Eliminator's Axe. Yes, I'm afraid it fell again this week, meaning that the day we went to Bangor became the day we didn't go to Bangor. But there's always succour in numbers, and we were just one of thirty sets of connections to have their horse eliminated needlessly. You'll have noticed that 12 was the maximum field size at Bangor yesterday, to allow all 22 horses declared for the juvenile hurdle to have a start (in two divisions of 11), and to ensure that that there was no congestion in the course's small stable yard. Since starting to use this blog as the forum for my ruminations, I've almost ceased annoying the 'Readers' Letters' department of the Racing Post, but I was moved to put fingers to keyboard on Friday once it became apparent that carrying saddle-cloth 13, and 10 stone 9lb, in a race for which the safety factor was 18 meant that one would be eliminated. That's why I know that there were 30 horses needlessly eliminated on the card, because I did the math for my epistle. No doubt it won't be published, but you can probably guess the direction in which it headed. What was particularly sad was that there was a £20,000 handicap hurdle, a race for which people might have set their horses months previously, and again there were several horses needlessly eliminated from this; and as the bottom weight of the 12 who were allowed to run was 10 stone 12lb, it is fair to assume that the eliminees weren't horses whose sights had been set unrealistically high. Of course there would still only have been one winner irrespective of how many ran, and obviously it was nice for the 12 who did run that they had fewer opponents, but to tell several other sets of connections that, even though they fell within the course's safety limit, they couldn't run because there weren't enough stables on the course, and because 22 of the few stables that there are had been allocated to the 22 horses declared for the juvenile hurdle, made no sense at all.

Oh yes, and Jill didn't go into the stalls at Newbury on Friday, so our aiming for a mighty double really did misfire badly. I don't foresee Jill's stalls test presenting any problems because she isn't a problem at the start, but that's scant consolation. She does have a tendency to stand and stare on occasions, and Friday looked to be one of those. Of course one always worries when a horse who isn't frightened of the stalls suddenly doesn't go in, as one fears that the horse might be developing a physical problem which is making him or her fearful of running - and, as you'll gather from the fact that Jill is so lightly raced, she has had one or two minor setbacks along the way, as so many horses do - but Jill's gait doesn't seem significantly different to how it has been all year, and she certainly didn't appear to be in an anxious frame of mind at the track: far from it, in fact, as she seemed even more unconcerned than usual, which is saying something as she is always remarkably laid-back in the preliminaries anyway. To lighten the tone, though, I'm pleased to say that there was one funny story concerning her refusal to enter the stalls. Before the race, I was passing the time of day with Sam Avis, the assistant starter, in the weighing room. Sam, as some of you will know, is doing very well in his apparent aim of going through life from one cushy job to another even less taxing position, having moved from travelling head lad to Luca Cumani to filling the same position for Saeed bin Suroor, and now being employed by the BHA. I reminded him that the last time I'd seen him at the races had been the day that Milton's Keen was boxed in in a six-horse race, so I said that I was hoping that there would be no cock-ups today. He, justifiably, pointed out that he couldn't really be held responsible for the horse being boxed in, but of course my retort was, "Well, I was just thinking about the jinx factor of your presence ...". So Jill then duly failed to enter the stalls - which again was obviously no fault of Sam's - and when the senior starter was subsequently getting me to sign the statutory form saying that I acknowledged that she has to have a stalls test before she will be allowed to run again, he threw into the conversation something like, "This really is rather unfortunate, because Sam was saying that he appears to be a bit of a jinx for your horses ..."!

To less cocked-up matters, I'm pleased to say that we managed to fit in another schooling session for Jack today. Tom Greenway had an early start to his Sunday to come down here for 9am, and we just got away with it before the rain set in too badly. The problem we've been having is that the only schooling fences currently available are on a strip of plough, which is basically unusable in wet weather - or unsuitable for jumping in wet weather anyway. There are miles and miles of all-weather gallops on Newmarket Heath, any small section of which would be great for jumping; and there are thousands of acres of grass, ditto. But unfortunately set amidst this huge area of suitable terrain there is a couple of acres of plough - which is a great surface when it's dry but completely unsuitable for jumping when it's wet (which is nearly all the time) - and all the fences are there. Unbelievable. We were lucky with his initial session, because that took place in the week which was our summer, but now that we seem to have lapsed prematurely into autumn, we've had to postpone a couple of schooling sessions in the hope that we'd have a few dry days. We'd had a couple prior to this morning and, although it wasn't ideal, because the ground was still rather too deep, the conditions were relatively excellent, compared to earlier in the week and compared to later in the day. After Tom had jumped maybe sixteen fences on Jack, he let My Obsession have a reminder of jumping hurdles, and that was good to watch, because Mobs does jump well. And, like a satisfactory schooling session, that's a nice note on which to end.

Au revoir, notre cherie

I had a very interesting day yesterday. I had been delighted the previous day to receive an invitation to be a guest on the following afternoon's At The Races coverage of Yarmouth, because that's something I really enjoy doing. So I was able to spend yesterday afternoon chatting away to Jason Weaver, discussing the day's races as well as chewing over a few topics such as our shared memories of working for Luca Cumani in our younger days, our thoughts on Manduro's great win on Sunday at Deauville and on the Australian sprinters who have graced our turf this summer, and on the prospects of some of the more obvious Melbourne Cup contenders. The irrespressible Matt "Harsh but Fair" Chapman was in the booth (which meant that we didn't have to say very much!) which added to the general banter, and if any of the viewers enjoyed the show as much as I did, it will have been a successful broadcast. I watched Makybe Diva's second and third Melbourne Cups in the At The Races studio discussing on air the afternoon's (ie night's from a UK point of view) sport with Dave Compton, so fingers crossed I may be doing the same thing again in November. It isn't quite as good as being there, but it's the next best thing.

An interesting afternoon was then followed by an interesting evening, as James Willoughby addressed our Pedigree Club in Leslie Harrison's studio. James had done this once last year while Leslie was still alive, and it was great that he paid us another visit. We're familiar that some horses/families/lines are better suited to dirt than to turf, or vice versa, and James gave us his views on the emergence of a third type of specialist, those horses who perform best on polytrack, which is obviously becoming a big topic in America as more and more tracks are replacing the dirt on the main track with polytrack or something similar. Predictably, James has analysed the reasons behind the various preferences and the factors which influence them, and it was good to tap into this knowledge; and to be entertained greatly, because anyone who has seen him presenting the sport on Racing UK will know that he supplies erudition and wit in equal parts. He'd preceded the talk with a tour of Luca Cumani's evening stables inspection, so he'd had a full afternoon, and I didn't envy him his drive home - I think he lives somewhere the other side of London - after what turned out to be a post 11pm conclusion to the discussion.

I hope that we'll be organised to turn in early tonight, because yesterday was the third late night on the trot, after Alix Choppin's leaving party on Monday (where Jamie Trotter and I quinellaed Fashions On The Field, being the only two men to - more or less - adhere to the stipulated dress code of Black Tie) and Emma's birthday party on Tuesday, which took the form of her cooking a huge dish of (surprisingly palatable, even for someone whose natural preference would be meat and potatoes) paella and inviting 25 or so people here to eat it. The guest list had been pretty much the same as that chez Alix the previous evening (and not dissimilar to that at the Pedigree Club last night), although when I say chez Alix I'm not being completely clear, because she held her party in the Highflyer Car Park in Tattersalls (as she had done plenty of work on Tattersalls' behalf during her time with Barnes Thompson / thoroughbredinternet, permission was easily granted, with the fact that her erstwhile landlord John works for Tattersalls being another factor in that respect). Why there? Easy - it provides a natural arena for petanque. Unfortunately for me, the deep gravel there puts quite a premium on accuracy, so I found the game less easy than on my only previous attempt at it on the Severals, but that did not detract from the fun. She and her sister Caroline, who had come over from France to help her organise her departure for her homeland, gave us all a great evening, which the sadness of knowing that one of our dearest friends was about to leave the country couldn't spoil. France's gain - and more specifically the FRBC's gain - is Newmarket's loss, but happily it's very much a case of 'Au revoir' rather than 'Adieu'.

Anyone reading this in the UK will know that summer, which more or less arrived about two weeks ago, seems already to have departed, which is a bit hard to swallow. Malcolm Peacock and his side-kick, two excellent men who were a pleasure to have working here, did eventually complete their drainage operations in the field - well, they actually completed it very expeditiously, it was just getting the work started it that took so long - which seemed a very successful operation, but ominously yesterday's torrential rain has already sown the first seeds of doubt in my mind as to whether it's been a worthwhile project, with a signficant amount of surface water now lying on the ground over where the drain runs. (And over where the repaired telephone cable runs, repaired after it was sliced in two during their excavation). I can't believe how lucky Jason and I were to have a warm and sunny afternoon at Yarmouth yesterday, because there was a huge amount of rain here in both the morning and the evening. Yesterday's rain was badly timed from my point of view, because Tom Greenway was going to drive down from Cheshire today to give Jack Dawson another jumping lesson, but unfortunately the steeplechase fences at the Links are currently on a rotivated strip of plough, which provides a very good surface during and after dry weather, but one which it is unwise to use after signficant rain. So today's schooling session has been postponed until Sunday - weather permitting - by which time we should have had two runners. Both should run well if they run: we know Jill has escaped the Elimator's axe, but we'll have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out if Lady Suffragette is to get a run at Bangor on Saturday. The advantage the flat has over jumping is that on over jumps one has to wait until the day before racing to find out if one's horse has got in, whereas on the flat, thanks to 48-hour declarations, one knows two days in advance. I know that different people have different views, and that the majority of trainers appear to think that this advantage does not outweigh the undoubted disadvantages resultant from nowadays having to declare two days in advance of the race (compared to the previous situation of declaring the day before, other than for Sunday's racing for which declarations have always have been taken on the Friday), but that is not an opinion which I share.

And just before I sign off, I must salute Matt Williams for the lovely recommendation of this site in Trading Post eight days ago. That brought a big smile to my face, and I'd like to think that there are a few new readers as a result. I enjoy writing this blog and Emma (I hope) enjoys maintaining the rest of the site (incidentally, a few nice new photographs have gone up on the Photo Gallery within the past week), but if nobody ever looked at it, it would be a rather pointless exercise. Good on yer, Matt.

A very pleasing week

It's been a busy and pleasing week. Six out of seven ain't bad. That's not a wins: runs ratio, but an actual runs: intended runs ratio. From Thursday last week to Thursday this week we tried to run all seven horses in the stable who are fit, and six of them were allowed to face the starter: only Lady Suffragette was kept at home by the Eliminator. And, I'm pleased to say, four of the six who did run were in the money: Jill Dawson (4th), Imperial Decree (1st), Marvin Gardens (3rd) and Jack Dawson (3rd). Brief had one of his occasional no-go days at a very hot and fairly firm Windsor, but even Millyjean ran what was by her standards quite a good race to finish in the top half of the field at Yarmouth after leading at an impressive gallop for much of the race. So, all in all, we can say that collectively our representatives have done us proud.

Imperial Decree, of course, has done us proudest with her win (see news stories), and her 10/1 success, followed by the 20/1 third of Marvin, meant that EW supporters of the stable would have had a good evening. None of the Principes Formation were on hand to cheer her home, but we hope that she'll go to the Curragh in a couple of weeks, and they should be there in force. Whom we did have present, though, were representations of the ownership of Anis Etoile (Maggie Parker) and Lady Suffragette (Stewart Leadley-Brown) so it was a very jolly evening all round, with the added bonus of watching Empire Dancer, bred by our friends (and breeders of Lady Suffragette) John and Terre McNamara of Golden Vale Stud, complete a double for Franny Norton which had been initiated by Imperial Decree (who was, incidentally, the first two-year-old winner for this stable since Largesse won a five-furlong maiden auction at Pontefract in July 1996!). It was, too, particularly good to have Stewart with us for the trip: his visit was a very special occasion, not just because it was the first time we'd met up with someone who'd become a good friend via the telephone and the first time he'd seen Lady Suffragette, but also the first time he'd returned to Newmarket since working here for William Hastings-Bass in Marriott Stables in Hamilton Road prior to emigrating to the States in 1979. He and his friend John Hansson paid us an overnight visit, and we had a really magical morning on Thursday, taking a good tour of the Heath (pretty much unchanged since 1979 bar the addition of several AW gallops and miles of white railings, and the Rowley Mile Millenium Grandstand - in fact, pretty much unchanged since 1679 bar the additions of those things and of bitumen roads) which started with us watching Lady Suffragette and her buddy Aisling breeze up the Al Bahathri, and which included a visit to Marriott Stables (now Chestnut Tree Stables), where Rae Guest kindly let us snoop around Stewart's former work-place (and home, as he lived in the hostel). It was a lovely morning which I hugely enjoyed; and I think and hope that Stewart and John enjoyed it at least as much.

Today was another lovely morning, the highlight of which was Jack's first steeplechase school. Jack ran a typically bold race at Folkestone, shrugging off a bleeding eyelid (courtesy of a premature attempt to break out of the stalls a second before they were opened, the result of which was that he gave his rivals three lengths' start) to bullock his way through the field to be beaten two necks. Any normal horse would think that that would be excuse enough for a few days' R&R, but when I had an impulse to send him up this morning (prompted by the fact that the excellent Tom Greenway was on parade, having been on a conditional jockeys' refresher course at the Racing School) to the Links, he let us know that he had no wish to rest on his laurels. Age certainly doesn't seem to be wearying this wonderful horse, and the enthusiasm and athleticism - mixed with sensible restraint and respect for the task in hand - with which he approached the schooling session was a joy to behold. We'd been mulling over a tentative plan to include a novice chase on his agenda - as he's still rated 130 or so over hurdles, that would certainly be the easier option for him if and when he was to return to National Hunt rules - but it was obviously going to be on the proviso that his schooling showed us that he was what one could call a safe jumper of fences. It was a huge relief - no, make that a colossal relief - to see him jump fences with such complete aplomb and composure, while seeming to love doing it, that one can give the project the go-ahead without feeling that one is being reckless. If and when he does run in a steeplechase I will be almost sick with worry on his behalf, but I can say, objectively, that he will be (after a couple more schooling sessions, obviously, and assuming that they go as well as this morning's did) as well qualified to rise to and conquer the challenge as any first-time chaser can be.

Jack wasn't the only very experienced and skillful trouper on the Links this morning because, to our surprise, we stumbled upon another (human) one up there. Having gone up there not expecting to see another horse, we found that Willie Musson had about six horses having jumping lessons up there. Willie's two main riders for this educational work turned out to be Alan Fallon - aka Alan Rutter, who has ridden a few winners on the flat and who has the potential to ride a lot more over jumps, if this morning's display is anything to go by - and the recently-retired Leighton Aspell. The announcement of Leighton's retirement took everyone by surprise, but seeing his superb horsemanship on view this morning makes one suspect that perhaps we won't have to think of all that talent going to waste after all.

So that made a great morning for me, because earlier I had had the thrill of having my first sighting of Magnus. It sounds strange to say this as the horse has been here for over two months, but I hadn't laid eyes on him until today, so it was a special, and totally unexpected treat, to find myself riding past him today. Like all the Aussie sprinters we've had here, he looks really solid and really placid, and looked to be just wandering along happily. One of the many pleasures of riding around the Heath in the mornings is catching sights of some of the world's best horses going about their business. When Stewart, John and I had been on our tour on Wednesday we'd been fortunate enough to chance upon Sixties Icon and Notnowcato (not together, obviously) and last week was the first time that I'd knowingly seen Tariq, an unremarkable little chestnut who, as we know, has huge ability and who, as I now know, looks a real darling, a really lovely and kind horse. Let's hope we can get to the stage where people might say, "Look over there - that's Imperial Decree". Our little girl has a long, long way to go before that but, when a young horse has just won her maiden in good style, her connections can be forgiven for dreaming for a while. After all, dreams are what keep us going.

So far, so ...

So far, so good? Not really, I'm afraid. Our glut of runners, in which we threatened to run every horse in the stable that is race-fit within a week or so and thus reap a rich harvest, has started with a whimper rather than a roar. At least Jill ran well and collected some prize money, but she was a bit too fresh and did too much in the early stages of the race so that, although she finished fourth, one had to feel that that position wasn't a flattering reflection of her ability. Brief's race at Windsor yesterday was very anti-climactic because he never threatened to fire a shot, and it's just been down hill from there: I declared two horses this morning and both were eliminated! It wasn't a shock that Marvin Gardens didn't get in the seller at Chepstow, but I wasn't expecting to be denied a run with Lady Suffragette: in this morning's Racing Post she was one of only five horses jocked up, and the safety factor was listed as 16. But, disappointingly, the field limit proved to be as low as twelve, and we aren't one of the twelve runners. To rub salt into the wound, the top weight hasn't been declared and so the weights have gone up so, had we been running, we would have been in the handicap. We'd been really looking forward to our overnight trip to Devon, as I know had been my father with whom we'd planned to stay tonight, but c'est la vie: there's no point in worrying about things that are out of one's control. And, to further remind us that one shouldn't be dismayed by minor setbacks, the horse who travelled down to Windsor with Brief yesterday - a lovely three-year-old filly called Hazy Days who had won both her previous starts for Lordship Stud and Sir Mark Prescott - fatally shattered a pastern early in her race. At least Richard Mullen was uninjured in the fall, but it was a salutary reminder that one can't be too down-hearted any time one can say, "At least no lives were lost".

You might wonder why, in Lady Suffragette's intended race tomorrow, there will only be twelve runners when the safety factor was listed as sixteen. This, I'm afraid, is the result of one of the sillier rules introduced by the BHB in recent years. The rule, as of two or three years ago, is that there can be no more runners on a card than there are boxes in the racecourse stables. This came about because of protestations by the NTF which backfired badly - I might have said 'disastrously', but no lives were lost, so that phrase wouldn't be appropriate. There had always been a few occasions when there weren't enough stables, so trainers had to use their initiave. If one was really keen to have one, one would arrive early; if one was in a late race, one would arrive late and hope to get one which had been vacated by an early runner who was already on his way home; if one had a quiet horse, one would arrive not too early and just keep him on the lorry or hold him somewhere. Things functioned adequately, but there were always a few whinges, particularly on very hot days, or very wet ones. And it did sometimes mean that some of the staff had to be with their horses all the time instead of going to the canteen or having a sleep. So, when over the past decade racecourses became more ostentatiously commercial and profitable, and when their spending on things to boost their income - eg corporate hospitality facilities - became more obvious, the NTF asked the BHB to try to steer the racecourses towards directing some of the money that was swilling around towards improving hospitality for the principal performers (by which I mean the horses, not the jockeys, just in case there's any confusion here) by building a few more stables so that every horse would have one. And this request proved to be a bad idea: as has been demonstrated time and again, the BHB are terrified by the Great God the Racecourse Association, so rather than do the terrifying thing of asking the courses to build a few more boxes, they took the easy way of changeing the rules so that even more horses would be eliminated, so that they can say to the NTF, "Look, aren't we great. We've given you what you wanted: now no runner won't have a stable". The stupidity of this rule is staggering, and the glaring lack of logic is mind-blowing, especially when one considers that the BHB - or whatever it now calls itself - also oversees point-to-points, the majority of which have no stables and where every runner has to operate under the conditions in which formerly one or two racehorses had to be prepared for their races. Applying its own logic, the BHB should not allow the majority of point-to-points to take place. And how does it explain away the fact that the Melbourne Cup takes place with no stables on the track for the runners? The British horses in that race seem to cope well enough, so why we couldn't cope here - as we'd been doing forever - God only knows. Which brings us back to Newton Abbot tomorrow: safety factor sixteen, but there are only 80 stables at the course and, because the novice hurdle has been divided, only 12 stables are allocated to the runners in the novice handicap hurdle, hence four horses have eliminated completely needlessly. I'm sorry if I've laboured the point, but one or two of racing's administrators might, I hope, read this blog, and it doesn't do them any harm to be force-fed an occasional helping of common sense.

Anyway, I'm not on the way to Newton Abbot this glorious summer afternoon, so I've watched a few races on the TV instead. These included By Storm's hurdles debut for her new stable. She got round, but inevitably such a small horse found it a bit of a struggle. I've also watched yet another impressive Mark Johnston-trained winner - Gothenburg, not to be confused with the former Mark Johnston-trained Gothenberg, who I think is now at stud abroad somewhere - who won the nursery at Newbury in the style of a horse who will handle the transition into Group company with ease. As, I think, will one of the horses I'd most admired when I was there, Campanologist, whom we saw win his maiden on debut at Sandown last Thursday an hour before Jill ran. He's a lovely horse whom I'd picked out when watching a bunch of them walk around preparing to gallop on the High Moor the previous week, so it was a pleasure to see him make a winning debut only eight days later. It should have been an even more pleasurable experience, but stupidly I didn't avail myself of the 8/1 which was on offer: at the time, I was more pre-occupied with Jill's forthcoming race, and furthermore Campanologist's presence had rather taken me by surprise, because he hadn't been named when I'd seen him the previous week, and I only woke up to which horse this was just before the stalls were loaded. He's now a horse firmly lodged in my mind and affections, and I think we can expect him to play a big part in the successful run which the stable is going to enjoy over the next few weeks and months.

Oh yes, one other thing. In my previous chapter I recommended that you peruse the photo gallery on www.mid-life-crisis-band.com. I hope that you've done so, and have been as discomfitted by the some of the shots therein as you will have been by the photo of McStay (copyright Skillecornphotos.com, so I'm told) in de Niro's which accompanies the previous chapter of this blog. Here's another one of him in his role as jockey's agent but for an altogether less disturbing change, I can now recommend that you take a stroll down the photo gallery on this site, because Emma has put up some rather nice shots taken in recent weeks. I hope you enjoy them.

Cover of the Rolling Stone

Anyone who had lunch here two Sundays ago - plus many who didn't - will be aware of the quasi-prowess of James Dowsett in musical matters. To further this awareness of his art, I have pleasure in passing on the address of a website which some of you may care to visit: www.mid-life-crisis-band.com . If you go to the Photo Gallery and call up the photographs, you'll find some corkers which will definitely be worthy of inspection. In an ideal world, of course, you'd study all 3 dozen or however many there are, but if you're pushed for time it might be helpful to know that the ones to concentrate on are:- 11, 14, 15, 26, 27, 30, 31, 32. Now that's what I call rock and roll! (And sweat). In the film '24 Hour Party People' (one of my favourites) Tony Wilson / Alan Partrige comes up with a great description of jazz: 'It's the only show where the players have more fun than the audience'. It has, of course, been pointed out that Channel Four Racing can be added to this list, but I think now that one can probably put Midlife Crisis into this category too: if the audience at one of the band's concerts really do have as much fun as Jim appears to be having, then it would be a truly world-class show. Have a look for yourself and see what you make of them. I'm hoping to go to one their concerts soon, and am relishing the prospect.

I took some pictures of Jim at our lunch, and another living legend whom I've been privileged to photograph recently has been Mark McStay. We've got one great shot of him in the vault because we were sent a tremendous photograph of him in his role of King Of the Dancefloor in de Niro's, and to this I can add a couple of photos of him networking at the July Course last Friday. We went up there for the evening, not because we had a runner, but because our French friend Alix Choppin, who is soon to return to her native land, was having a farewell picnic in the car park.

It was a very good picnic, and made more brahmatic by the fact that McStay was next door, featuring in a picnic, if not quite hosting it (I think that was done by Stephen Hillen). Inevitably some of his acolytes - eg Jamie Spencer (who strangely enough didn't seem to have managed to get any rides that evening) and Ted Durcan - graced the event, but Neil Callan and Pat Cosgrave were conspicuous by their absence. That may turn out to have been a big mistake careerwise on their parts, and I wouldn't be surprised if they are both looking for a new agent before too long. The only absentee from Alix's picnic was our thoroughbredinternet.com colleague Geir Stabell, the Globeform guru, who was actually at the races that evening, but couldn't quite fit in a visit to Alix's camp, what with all the horses to be assessed and William Buick to be interviewed (before racing). Still, I'll catch up with Geir before too long so that I can thank him for all the excellent Globeform info he's been sending me. Ourselves, we only slipped into the races for one race, but that was a thrill because we saw the lovely Classic Punch (Persian Punch's Mozart half-brother) grind out another great win. What was extra special about this was that we were watching the race next to the connections of the runner-up New Beginning, and it was a pleasure to see the spirit of the sport exemplified: they were just so excited and proud that their lovely horse ran such a game race in finishing a close second to a mighty horse. As all proper sportsmen know, it's not about winning or losing, but about competing with honour. And that's just what New Beginning had just done.

We saw another mighty horse on Sunday because Marco Botti and Lucie Cechova hosted a pedigree club outing at Green Ridge Stables, which included not just a really good and fun dinner, but also an inspection of this year's Italian Derby winner Awelmarduk, a really strong and solid colt. He is trained by Marco's father, but has come to Newmarket for a change of scenery while it's so hot in Italy in the middle of the summer. Whether or not he will have a race while he's here isn't clear. The only omission of the evening was that we didn't take a stroll out the back into the trees which run down the side of Southfields, which would have given us the opportunity to inspect the pair of Jim's underpants which are nailed to a tree just outside Marco's yard. But in every other respect it was a perfect evening, and the contribution of man of the match Paolo Benedetti was a particular boon. Lucie gave us a real feast, and she has become a real challenger - to Alix and to Lisa-Jane - for the title of the person whose house I most enjoy visiting.

A very welcome visitor here today was Roger Vicarage, who has a share in Anis Etoile. It's always good to see him and his family, and this morning he excelled himself by coming armed with a magnificent tome, a bound collection of the issues of 'Racing Illustrated' from the second half of 1896. He's kindly lent it to me, and I'll have my nose in it throughout August any time that time permits. I've just finished Ed Hotaling's superb biography of the late black jockey and, later, trainer Jimmy Winkfield - who rose to the top of his profession in his native America, in imperial Russia and in France - and, as that resume probably suggests, I can bore anyone on that subject for hours, but this book contains an even greater treasure trove of historical interest. I'm in the process of becoming a Peter Temple addict, but his thrillers might have to wait a while while I absorb all that I can from Roger's book.

Another publication to give me pleasure this week was the latest Winning Post, not just from studying it as usual, but more particularly because of a letter from one of the readers, Ronnie O'Raighan (surely not the former President of the USA?) of Euroa, Vic. I hope you'll forgive me for blowing my own trumpet, but I'm just so proud of this I can't keep it to myself. At the end of a very sensible and erudite letter explaining why it is completely fatuous to compare champions of different eras (because the standard of horses is rising all the time, as demonstrated by race times), Ronnie throws in the observation, "In conclusion may I say I think John Wathen-Berry's report is the best of its kind in any publication in the world - may he long continue.". Hear, hear!

Anyway, now we're off to Sandown tomorrow, where Jill should run well. We've then got Brief on Saturday at Windsor: he's a course and distance winner there so races can work out for him at the picturesque Reay's Meadow venue, but that can't be guaranteed at a course where horses who get out in front and bag the stands' rail are often hard to pass, so we'll just hope for the best. Possible runners next week are Lady Suffragette, Marvin Gardens, Millyjean, Imperial Decree and Jack Dawson, but what will run where depends on various factors - most obviously the dreaded eliminator - so we'll cross next week's bridges when we get to them.

So I'll just leave you with one thought. If you're in the Cambridge area in the near future and you pass a man singing to himself 'We've got a lot of little teenage blue-eyed groupies who will do anything we say/ We've got a genuine Indian guru teaching us a better way/ We've got all the friends that money can buy so we never have to be alone/ And we keep getting richer - but we can't get our picture on the cover of the Rolling Stone', it'll probably be Jim.