If I appear more mystified than usual, please bear with me: it's sales time again and, as we've not got much going on in the stable just now, I've plenty of time on my hands to watch the world go by. I'm afraid that is what I am at the sales - a spectator, rather than a participant, because unfortunately there is no role there which I am required to play, and as I already have more money than I'd like tied up in bloodstock, it would be foolhardy of me to speculate further - but it still pays to pay attention to what is going on. I say it pays, but in reality it doesn't, except that one can only become wiser and/or more knowledgeable, and that can be justification in itself, even if it profiteth one naught. Here endeth the first lesson.
Anyway, I've been keeping an eye on the sales returns from Goffs and now from Tattersalls, which has the added bonus of taking place within walking distance of my home, so it is easy for me to see the embodiments of the pedigrees. So I must be becoming wiser - except that I just seem to be even more baffled. Just how much a lottery the sale is was brought home to me yesterday when I saw a son of Sadler's Wells sold for 140,000 gns. Well, nothing special in that, you might say. Can't have been a particularly nice horse, you would deduce, to be going for - what? half, maybe - of the covering fee, but must at the same time have been really, really nice to fetch so much money. So there we have a paradox straightaway. Anyway, this horse, a full-brother to Septimus, the best stayer in the world - or the best stayer outside Japan, anyway - was a really odd-looking animal. Under-developed to a worrying degree behind, there has to be a huge doubt over his future as an athlete, yet he was bought by one of the most successful yearling buyers (Charlie Gordon-Watson), and there presumably was an under-bidder too, so he can't have been alone in thinking him worth risking a six-figure sum on. And as, presumably, he was buying him for someone else, then that's another person sharing that view (and actually outlaying the money). My thought was, "How on earth could you risk so much money on so risky a proposition?". For sure, if he turns out as good as Septimus, he's been a bargain; but if he turns out as good as any one of the dam's other eight previous foals, one might as well just have drawn the money out in £20 notes and had a bonfire. And his physique makes it likely that he will fit in with the eight rather than the one. And yet ... this is the glorious uncertainty of buying horses, because, while it is unlikely that he will do so, this horse could emulate Septimus. In the overall picture, 140,000 gns isn't a large price to pay for a horse (unbelievable though that statement sounds), and there have been numerous seven-figure yearlings who have turned into racehorses of minimal ability. So, if one is operating at that level, it made sense to buy this horse because, if you are going to buy an animal about whom one can argue that there is a logical reason why he might be a champion, and yet probably won't become one, you're much better off buying this one for 140,000 gns than A.N.Other one for ten, twenty or even fifty times that amount. Anyway, our school project now is to keep an eye open and see what he goes on to achieve. He's a bay yearling by Sadler's Wells ex Caladira. The other horse for whom to keep an eye open is the colt who followed him through the ring. He's by Montjeu ex Aim For The Top and is a stunning horse. He fetched 160,000 gns, bought by John McCormack to race in Hong Kong - for the same connections for whom McCormack bought HK Derby winner Industrial Pioneer - and I will be very disappointed if he isn't very good. But, of course, he could turn out useless and the Sadler's Wells could turn out a champion, and therein lies the eternal fascination of this game.
On the subject of Sadler's Wells, he had me scratching my head last week too as I perused the Goffs Foal Sale catalogue. There was one Sadler's Wells weanling therein, and he was the result of a truly unpredictable mating. His second dam Christabelle is by Northern Dancer ex Oaks runner-up Where You Lead - dam of I Will Follow (dam of Rainbow Quest) and of Slightly Dangerous (dam of Warning, Commander In Chief and Yashmak) - but Christabelle is proof of the vagaries of breeding: she is now 24 (if she is still alive) and is the ancestress of no Group winners. The only Stakes winner of whom Christabelle, arguably the best-bred broodmare you could ever find, is ancestress is her grandson Win Legend, a Listed winner in Japan. Belle Of Honour, this colt's dam, must have been one of Christabelle's last foals. She never ran, and hasn't yet bred a place-getter. Her current two-year-old, by Catcher In The Rye, is unraced. Now this is my point: how on earth could you send your mare to Catcher In The Rye, who never won a Group race and whose fee is €3,000, and then send her to Sadler's Wells? The only possible solution is that the mare's owners won the lottery in the interim - because you'd need to have done, because you can be sure that Coolmore wouldn't have been giving any discount to entice this mare into Sadler's Wells, who would have been 25 at the time of conception. Anyway, this colt (a photograph of whom is on the Goffs website and who looks really nice, not that it's really possible to tell a 'good' foal and a 'bad' foal apart, despite what people tell you) sold for €145,000, which would be - what, €300,000 less than the cost of the nomination? The purchaser was Camas Park Stud, which could mean he was bought on behalf of Coolmore, which would make sense: it would mean that they had bought a horse who might, just might, be very good, but who probably won't, for minus €300,000 - which is a hell of a lot better than buying one in the same category for 140,000 gns. And that, as we know, is a hell of a lot better than buying one for 1,400,000 gns. Or more.
So do you see what I mean? The longer you spend studying what goes on at the top level, the more baffled you become. I'm much happier spending, or advising people to spend, much smaller sums on horses who might just, but probably won't, be champions. I'll stick with our Halling filly for 1,200 gns; I was very tempted to give her a mate yesterday when a son of a good stallion (Pentire) from a Group-winning, winner-producing mare (Lara) failed to attract a bid (and who had far less significant physical question marks than the Sadler's Wells), but common sense prevailed for once and, potentially wise purchase though it might have been, I somehow managed to resist the temptation to add to my already over-full bloodstock portfolio. But that again is the other paradox: if one could afford to buy the Sadler's Wells for 140,000 gns, where was the logic in not taking this (seemingly nicer) horse for 2,000 as well?
And the latest sales paradox is that, as some might recall, I received a savageing in the Racing Post three or four years ago for suggesting that it might be a good idea for steroids to be added to the (pathetically small) list of drugs proscribed by sales companies and tested for in optional post-sale swabs. The great and the good of the bloodstock world - most vociferously Henry Beeby - threw up their arms in horror that I could have been stupid enough and evil enough to suggest such a thing, listing 101 reasons why it was an insane and irresponsible suggestion. It wasn't even as if I'd raised the topic in the first place, because all I did was correct Rachel Pagones who, like most people, evidently assumed that they were already barred and who had written an article saying that America should follow Europe's lead in barring them - at which point, I just wrote in pointing out that following Europe's lead and barring steroids were mutually exclusive policies because they weren't actually barred, nor tested for, here; and I suggested that perhaps they should be. At then the s@*t hit the fan. But, of course, all storms in tea cups die down eventually, and this one has finally come to rest with a brief announcement in today's Racing Post under the headline 'Goffs-DBS to bring in steroid testing next year', and which includes a quotation from Henry Beeby explaining why it is a good thing to do it. All that was missing was, "And we would like to thank John Berry for giving us this good idea, and to apologise to him for taking so long to appreciate it"!
So that's enough of my meanderings. I must focus myself on what is actually happening here, rather than on issues which would have some relevance to me if I were a far more signficant player in the bloodstock world than I actually am. Last weekend we had a very pleasant Saturday when five of the ten share-holders in Anis Etoile met here for a pre-Peterborough Chase breakfast, reminding me yet again just how lucky I am to train for some really nice people, which was followed by a really cold afternoon waiting to watch a two-horse race. (On the subject of Saturday's racing, incidentally, I agree fully with Alan Taylor: steeplechasing will never be a safe sport, and watering it down too much - eg by using fences like the new ones at Haydock which the horses can brush through as long as they rise at least two foot off the ground - won't make it safe, but will significantly lessen its excitement). One had to feel for Huntingdon: it was its biggest day of the year and a combination of a match in the big race and really cold weather (plus the fact that there was excellent racing from other meetings on television) meant that they had a crowd which would not have seemed big at any run-of-the-mill mid-week fixture; but for the people who (fortified by hot chocolate) did brave it, it was a really fun afternoon.
So that was last Saturday, and next Saturday we have Polly's debut at Wolverhampton to look forward to. And I really am looking forward to that. Neil Pollard, a good and very industrious jockey, put her through the stalls this morning and she did that very well, so I am sending her off confident that, while she obviously is far from the finished article, she is more than ready for a debut.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Friday, November 16, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Sunshine and showers
Anyone who watched Cheltenham on television on Sunday (let alone anyone unfortunate enough to have been there) will have worked out that the sun doesn't always shine on horsemen. We've rather become used to thinking that, once it starts raining in the autumn, it will rain, other than on days when it is too cold to rain, more or less constantly until the following summer (when if we are lucky it will be replaced by intermittent showers), but in this instance our worst fears have not been realised. The photograph of Martha riding our yearling three-parts sister to Parasol which Emma attached to the previous chapter of this blog shows glorious sunshine, and against all odds the sun is shining again now. We've had a lot of rain between then and now, but as long as the sun continues to come out intermittently we shall not complain too much. Winter's arriving but we'll get through it.
One of the reasons why we know that winter is here is because the Southfields grass canters are open. They are always one of winter's compensations, because that large area of Heath is a great training ground and it is a pleasure to have it at our disposal from the end of the flat season until roughly the next year's Grand National meeting. David had been round the main circuit (roughly a mile and three-quarters) the past couple of days on My Obsession, who really loves cantering on soft turf, but Hugh and I hadn't yet had the pleasure this autumn, so it was great this morning when the three of us cantered around it. I rode Ex-Con in the bitless bridle which I am using on him as an experiment on behalf of the manufacturers of this good innovation and which seems a very effective and kind way of controlling a horse, and Hugh rode Lady Suffragette, who is none the worse for her non-achieving outing at Bangor last week. So that was really nice: three happy horses and three happy riders, despite the rain which was falling at the time.
So I'll be seeing plenty of Southfields when I'm outside, and I hope I'll be seeing plenty of our cats when I'm indoors: it has been the norm in recent years for only Sebastian/Sid to spend time indoors, but the onset of winter seems to have persuaded both Alamshar and Giant to join us in the evenings, which is great. If there is one thing better than falling asleep in the armchair in the evening with one cat on one's lap, it is doing so with two there (and sometimes a greyhound)!
And what is even better is seeing some of the world's best horses, which is what I had the pleasure of doing yesterday. Thanks to the kindness of Tony Le Brocq, I am the custodian of Minnie's Mystery, a daughter of Highest Honor whom I originally bought as a yearling at Doncaster October Sale I would guess around nine years ago and who raced for Tony with great distinction in Jersey for several years, her many wins there including the Derby and the Guineas. She is carrying her first foal who, sentiment (and logic, because he does do very well from his limited opportunities) dictated is by Largesse.
It is time to be thinking about who should be chosen as her next mate, and Doyen (pictured) is a horse I really like. So Lisa-Jane Moeran was kind enough to show him to Emma and me at Dalham Hall Stud yesterday, and the treat was made even better as the tour also included inspections of the three new residents: Authorized, Echo Of Light and Shamardal (who was formerly standing at Kildangan Stud). They are four smashing horses. Shamardal is just so strong and powerful. Doyen always was a mighty horse and now, in maturity, he is just magnficent. Echo Of Light is a grand horse, big and rangey, and much more like his wonderful father (Dubai Millenium) than his paternal half-brother Dubawi. Authorized, whom we know to be a lovely horse, is the only one of the four that one could have called a disappointment, because just now he looks as if he has just arrived home from the Western Front: he evidently put his heart and soul into his tremendous three-year-old campaign and just now he looks completely washed out. Seeing him now, it's hard to believe that he was capable of running in the Arc last month, so it is easy to understand why he ran so far below the tremendous form he had shown in the summer. It is better to remember him as he looked in the summer - truly magnificent - and then to realise that, with the excellent care that the stallions receive there, he will look equally good again in the fullness of time once he's got his strength back. So that was a lovely way to spend part of an afternoon, and the treat just got better on the way out as we were able to say 'G'day' to another Derby winner: Lammtarra, who is spending his days luxuriously in honourable (and arguably premature) retirement there.
One of the reasons why we know that winter is here is because the Southfields grass canters are open. They are always one of winter's compensations, because that large area of Heath is a great training ground and it is a pleasure to have it at our disposal from the end of the flat season until roughly the next year's Grand National meeting. David had been round the main circuit (roughly a mile and three-quarters) the past couple of days on My Obsession, who really loves cantering on soft turf, but Hugh and I hadn't yet had the pleasure this autumn, so it was great this morning when the three of us cantered around it. I rode Ex-Con in the bitless bridle which I am using on him as an experiment on behalf of the manufacturers of this good innovation and which seems a very effective and kind way of controlling a horse, and Hugh rode Lady Suffragette, who is none the worse for her non-achieving outing at Bangor last week. So that was really nice: three happy horses and three happy riders, despite the rain which was falling at the time.
So I'll be seeing plenty of Southfields when I'm outside, and I hope I'll be seeing plenty of our cats when I'm indoors: it has been the norm in recent years for only Sebastian/Sid to spend time indoors, but the onset of winter seems to have persuaded both Alamshar and Giant to join us in the evenings, which is great. If there is one thing better than falling asleep in the armchair in the evening with one cat on one's lap, it is doing so with two there (and sometimes a greyhound)!And what is even better is seeing some of the world's best horses, which is what I had the pleasure of doing yesterday. Thanks to the kindness of Tony Le Brocq, I am the custodian of Minnie's Mystery, a daughter of Highest Honor whom I originally bought as a yearling at Doncaster October Sale I would guess around nine years ago and who raced for Tony with great distinction in Jersey for several years, her many wins there including the Derby and the Guineas. She is carrying her first foal who, sentiment (and logic, because he does do very well from his limited opportunities) dictated is by Largesse.
It is time to be thinking about who should be chosen as her next mate, and Doyen (pictured) is a horse I really like. So Lisa-Jane Moeran was kind enough to show him to Emma and me at Dalham Hall Stud yesterday, and the treat was made even better as the tour also included inspections of the three new residents: Authorized, Echo Of Light and Shamardal (who was formerly standing at Kildangan Stud). They are four smashing horses. Shamardal is just so strong and powerful. Doyen always was a mighty horse and now, in maturity, he is just magnficent. Echo Of Light is a grand horse, big and rangey, and much more like his wonderful father (Dubai Millenium) than his paternal half-brother Dubawi. Authorized, whom we know to be a lovely horse, is the only one of the four that one could have called a disappointment, because just now he looks as if he has just arrived home from the Western Front: he evidently put his heart and soul into his tremendous three-year-old campaign and just now he looks completely washed out. Seeing him now, it's hard to believe that he was capable of running in the Arc last month, so it is easy to understand why he ran so far below the tremendous form he had shown in the summer. It is better to remember him as he looked in the summer - truly magnificent - and then to realise that, with the excellent care that the stallions receive there, he will look equally good again in the fullness of time once he's got his strength back. So that was a lovely way to spend part of an afternoon, and the treat just got better on the way out as we were able to say 'G'day' to another Derby winner: Lammtarra, who is spending his days luxuriously in honourable (and arguably premature) retirement there.
A long time in ... whatever
Come this evening, it will be a week since our abortive trip to Wolverhampton. Amazing: it seems much more that a week ago. We're told that a week's a long time in politics, but it's also true that it can be a very long time in whatever business it is that I'm involved with (times like the past week make it plain that merely to say that I'm training horses grossly over-simplifies what's involved). There are time you start pondering the existence of eventual karma, and wonder if perhaps you might have murdered a priest in a previous life, but the sun still rises - gloriously, if today is anything to go by - and life goes on. (On the subject of karma, incidentally, it might be worth refreshing your memories about one of the best sentences ever written in the Racing Post. James Willoughby was, predictably, the author. You might actually not have read it when it came out, because it was contained in a race preview, and you might share my view that race previews in general are not worth reading - those written by James are the glorious exceptions - because the list of runners and riders, supported by the form book if one needs to refresh one's memory, is usually preview enough. Anyway, Lennon was running in a big race, I think it was the Tolworth Hurdle, a couple of seasons ago. James made the point that it would be a nice piece of natural justice if Lennon were to salute, because his stable has suffered several cases of bad luck in the past few days, and he concluded the point by saying, "Imagine if Lennon could provide instant karma for Howard Johnson!").
On the plus side, this week has had its memorable moments. My first trip to Bangor was one of these. It's a lovely place, we were there on a lovely day, and I am very pleased now to be able to say that I have visited every racecourse in Britain. I enjoyed every part of the outing except the race itself, during which things again didn't go according to plan for Lady Suffragette. I'd have been more annoyed if I had backed her, which I had contemplated doing (and I'm afraid that to anyone who asked me my opinion I passed on the view that I believed that she had good each-way claims). Fortunately I didn't, but I may well do next time. Still, she came home unharmed, which was more than one could say for one of David Pipe's two runners in the race. Happily, though, I believe that that horse, who was very lame in his near hind leg after the race, will live, if not to fight another day, but to take up a less demanding role, and it was very impressive to see David so concerned for the horse's welfare in the stable yard long after the race as darkness descended: there wouldn't be many trainers with such large strings who would have been doing the same in such circumstances. He is definitely his father's son, and it is very good to see that the family stable remains in very safe hands. The funny thing about this trip was that I'd been getting quite excited for a while about completing visiting Bangor and thus completing the full house of racecourses, so I was rather taken aback as we eventually pulled into the stable yard at what is a quintessentially British National Hunt course: the first person I saw was Terry Lucas, and I thought to myself, "Bloody hell, I've finally got here, and an Australian flat jockey has beaten me to it!".
I had enjoyed a similar chuckle the previous day after a meeting of the East Anglian branch of the National Trainers' Federation. I suppose this could be described as politics; if so, I can definitely say that two and a quarter hours are a long time in politics, because we were taken off on more pointless tangents, mostly by two loud-mouths whose presence we were forced to tolerate (names withheld to protect the guilty), than even in one of my longest blog postings. A couple of people had already left by the time I decided I'd had enough, at which point I quietly asked Rupert Arnold, who runs the Federation, whether I was right in believing that I wouldn't miss anything important if I left at that point. In reply, he smiled wryly and said, "You could have left half an hour ago and not missed anything important". As always happens at these things, finding a topic on which everyone agrees is impossible, and one of the highlights had been when Rupert asked us for a show of hands on one particular suggestion that might be put forward by 'The Horsemen's Group': almost exactly half of those present raised their hands to show that they were in favour, at which point Stuart Williams, who was in the chair by virtue of being the area vice-president and the area president being absent, threw back his arms in disbelief and cried, "Turkeys voting for Christmas!". But the real highlight came when I sent Stuart a text message afterwards to congratulate him on his bon mot, and also to ask whether we could have the loud-mouths barred; the reply was, "I think barring those two would be the only thing we would all agree on".
And if things like that can't bring a smile to one's face, the horses always can do so. It's been very cold in the mornings with the sky so clear that the frosts are hard, but this has made for beautiful days, and yesterday made for excellent photographic conditions as our Halling yearling was ridden by Martha for the first time. She, like the others, has been very good, and full marks to David for doing the bulk of the ground work, and to Martha for being the first to ride the four horses. If the remainder of these horses' careers continue as smoothly as things have gone so far, we'll be very lucky indeed.
On the plus side, this week has had its memorable moments. My first trip to Bangor was one of these. It's a lovely place, we were there on a lovely day, and I am very pleased now to be able to say that I have visited every racecourse in Britain. I enjoyed every part of the outing except the race itself, during which things again didn't go according to plan for Lady Suffragette. I'd have been more annoyed if I had backed her, which I had contemplated doing (and I'm afraid that to anyone who asked me my opinion I passed on the view that I believed that she had good each-way claims). Fortunately I didn't, but I may well do next time. Still, she came home unharmed, which was more than one could say for one of David Pipe's two runners in the race. Happily, though, I believe that that horse, who was very lame in his near hind leg after the race, will live, if not to fight another day, but to take up a less demanding role, and it was very impressive to see David so concerned for the horse's welfare in the stable yard long after the race as darkness descended: there wouldn't be many trainers with such large strings who would have been doing the same in such circumstances. He is definitely his father's son, and it is very good to see that the family stable remains in very safe hands. The funny thing about this trip was that I'd been getting quite excited for a while about completing visiting Bangor and thus completing the full house of racecourses, so I was rather taken aback as we eventually pulled into the stable yard at what is a quintessentially British National Hunt course: the first person I saw was Terry Lucas, and I thought to myself, "Bloody hell, I've finally got here, and an Australian flat jockey has beaten me to it!".
I had enjoyed a similar chuckle the previous day after a meeting of the East Anglian branch of the National Trainers' Federation. I suppose this could be described as politics; if so, I can definitely say that two and a quarter hours are a long time in politics, because we were taken off on more pointless tangents, mostly by two loud-mouths whose presence we were forced to tolerate (names withheld to protect the guilty), than even in one of my longest blog postings. A couple of people had already left by the time I decided I'd had enough, at which point I quietly asked Rupert Arnold, who runs the Federation, whether I was right in believing that I wouldn't miss anything important if I left at that point. In reply, he smiled wryly and said, "You could have left half an hour ago and not missed anything important". As always happens at these things, finding a topic on which everyone agrees is impossible, and one of the highlights had been when Rupert asked us for a show of hands on one particular suggestion that might be put forward by 'The Horsemen's Group': almost exactly half of those present raised their hands to show that they were in favour, at which point Stuart Williams, who was in the chair by virtue of being the area vice-president and the area president being absent, threw back his arms in disbelief and cried, "Turkeys voting for Christmas!". But the real highlight came when I sent Stuart a text message afterwards to congratulate him on his bon mot, and also to ask whether we could have the loud-mouths barred; the reply was, "I think barring those two would be the only thing we would all agree on".
And if things like that can't bring a smile to one's face, the horses always can do so. It's been very cold in the mornings with the sky so clear that the frosts are hard, but this has made for beautiful days, and yesterday made for excellent photographic conditions as our Halling yearling was ridden by Martha for the first time. She, like the others, has been very good, and full marks to David for doing the bulk of the ground work, and to Martha for being the first to ride the four horses. If the remainder of these horses' careers continue as smoothly as things have gone so far, we'll be very lucky indeed.
Nearly surprised!
Well, we've got the result we've been hoping for: a dead-heat in the jockeys' premiership. What was really nice was that it seemed as if both hoops were genuinely pleased to be sharing the title with the other, rather than holding it outright. They are two admirable professional jockeys who have played hard and played fair, and it would have been a shame to see either come out of the slog empty-handed (well, they'd have had plenty to show for the year whether winning or finishing second in the title race, but you know what I mean). I really didn't want Seb not to win it because he'd never won it previously, but I didn't want to barrack against Jamie, so a draw is great. Good on 'em both.
Wolverhampton last night was gripped with championship fever. Even Cornelius Lysaght was there. (No sign of Julian Muscat, but then you hell hadn't quite frozen over, either - and there were no Group races on the card). But I won't remember last night's Wolverhampton fixture for hosting the penultimate scene in the championship drama: I'll remember it for my nearly being surprised there. I've basically reached the stage where nothing surprises me - I actually reached it years ago - but I came very close to being stunned to discover on my arrival at Wolverhampton that Imperial Decree was a non-runner. I always have my phone switched off while driving, but Emma had had hers on in the passenger seat, so had taken a call from Cliff telling her that Eddie Ahern was not riding because he was too unwell to do so - although in all likelihood he was merely too unwell to face the prospect of heading from Musselburgh, where he'd ridden that afternoon, to the black country on a cold, dark, damp night for one long-priced ride in a low-value all-weather race on a horse trained from a small stable he gets one ride from every several years, because his unwellness didn't preclude him from fulfilling his engagements at Musselburgh (for Luca Cumani et al.) yesterday afternoon or at Doncaster (for Saeed bin Suroor etc.) today. But just how unwell he was or wasn't isn't germane to the story in hand - yet again I'm going off at a tangent. Anyway, Emma had checked in the paper and we'd seen that Stephen Donohoe (who'd ridden the filly, very well, on her debut) was available, as was Rab Havlin (who had galloped her on the Heath, and who had been offered the ride on two of her previous starts, including her most recent one, but hadn't been able to take it because he was elsewhere). Anyway, I was thinking that when we arrived at Wolverhampton I'd call John Nelligan, managing partner in the Principes Formation, to fill him in and to ask which of this pair he'd like to ride, or whether he'd like one of the several other good jockeys who were there and free. As it was, I came close to feeling very surprised when, on arriving at Wolverhampton an hour and forty minutes before the race, I discovered that John had sent the course a fax to say that, because Ahern (who is the leading jockey at the track) couldn't ride, the filly was to be scratched because of no suitable jockey being available, as the syndicate didn't want to settle for a rider whose course record was less impressive. This wasn't the course of action which I would have suggested, but that was academic because (a) once a horse has been scratched he or she cannot be re-instated and (b) what the trainer would do isn't really relevant if the horse's owners would like something to be done differently. This latter point is something which many observers do not appreciate (and seemingly many trainers do not appreciate either, judging by stories I have heard from bemused owners bemoaning their trainer's actions - and getting, predictably, no sympathy from me for being stupid enough to patronize a trainer who would put his own interests/wishes ahead of those of his clients). It was just really strange and, although I would say that nothing surprises me, it certainly wasn't the train of events that I would have predicted at the outset of the day. Anyway, I'd had enough of the outing pretty soon after that - although I did just check with the stewards that I wouldn't be fined for this unusual withdrawal - so I didn't hang around to savour the ongoing Sanders/Spencer drama, especially as I didn't want a load of jockeys whom I regard as very competent querying me about what they would, after discovering that the filly had been scratched because of no suitable jockey being available, justifiably regard as my apparent implicit criticism of their ability.
Looking ahead, we could find ourselves runner-less next week too because it will be touch-and-go whether Bangor shafts us with its lack of stables again. Lady Suffragette is something like number 25 in her race and the safey factor is 20, so you'd think that she should be fine - but of course the stable yard is small there, as we found out to our cost in the summer and, if the novice hurdle is divided (which seems likely) the maximum field for our race could be as low as 12, which would make our participation very dubious. You know my views on the rule which brings this restriction into play, so there is no point in my repeating my explanation of why it is such a bad one. Anyway, she either will run or won't run next week, but if she does miss out she should be able to run somewhere - Leicester, Fakenham or Market Rasen - the following week. And then we have Polly to look forward to at the end of the month. I galloped her again today and really enjoyed it. Fingers crossed she'll provide us with a bit of fun to help us through the winter.
Wolverhampton last night was gripped with championship fever. Even Cornelius Lysaght was there. (No sign of Julian Muscat, but then you hell hadn't quite frozen over, either - and there were no Group races on the card). But I won't remember last night's Wolverhampton fixture for hosting the penultimate scene in the championship drama: I'll remember it for my nearly being surprised there. I've basically reached the stage where nothing surprises me - I actually reached it years ago - but I came very close to being stunned to discover on my arrival at Wolverhampton that Imperial Decree was a non-runner. I always have my phone switched off while driving, but Emma had had hers on in the passenger seat, so had taken a call from Cliff telling her that Eddie Ahern was not riding because he was too unwell to do so - although in all likelihood he was merely too unwell to face the prospect of heading from Musselburgh, where he'd ridden that afternoon, to the black country on a cold, dark, damp night for one long-priced ride in a low-value all-weather race on a horse trained from a small stable he gets one ride from every several years, because his unwellness didn't preclude him from fulfilling his engagements at Musselburgh (for Luca Cumani et al.) yesterday afternoon or at Doncaster (for Saeed bin Suroor etc.) today. But just how unwell he was or wasn't isn't germane to the story in hand - yet again I'm going off at a tangent. Anyway, Emma had checked in the paper and we'd seen that Stephen Donohoe (who'd ridden the filly, very well, on her debut) was available, as was Rab Havlin (who had galloped her on the Heath, and who had been offered the ride on two of her previous starts, including her most recent one, but hadn't been able to take it because he was elsewhere). Anyway, I was thinking that when we arrived at Wolverhampton I'd call John Nelligan, managing partner in the Principes Formation, to fill him in and to ask which of this pair he'd like to ride, or whether he'd like one of the several other good jockeys who were there and free. As it was, I came close to feeling very surprised when, on arriving at Wolverhampton an hour and forty minutes before the race, I discovered that John had sent the course a fax to say that, because Ahern (who is the leading jockey at the track) couldn't ride, the filly was to be scratched because of no suitable jockey being available, as the syndicate didn't want to settle for a rider whose course record was less impressive. This wasn't the course of action which I would have suggested, but that was academic because (a) once a horse has been scratched he or she cannot be re-instated and (b) what the trainer would do isn't really relevant if the horse's owners would like something to be done differently. This latter point is something which many observers do not appreciate (and seemingly many trainers do not appreciate either, judging by stories I have heard from bemused owners bemoaning their trainer's actions - and getting, predictably, no sympathy from me for being stupid enough to patronize a trainer who would put his own interests/wishes ahead of those of his clients). It was just really strange and, although I would say that nothing surprises me, it certainly wasn't the train of events that I would have predicted at the outset of the day. Anyway, I'd had enough of the outing pretty soon after that - although I did just check with the stewards that I wouldn't be fined for this unusual withdrawal - so I didn't hang around to savour the ongoing Sanders/Spencer drama, especially as I didn't want a load of jockeys whom I regard as very competent querying me about what they would, after discovering that the filly had been scratched because of no suitable jockey being available, justifiably regard as my apparent implicit criticism of their ability.
Looking ahead, we could find ourselves runner-less next week too because it will be touch-and-go whether Bangor shafts us with its lack of stables again. Lady Suffragette is something like number 25 in her race and the safey factor is 20, so you'd think that she should be fine - but of course the stable yard is small there, as we found out to our cost in the summer and, if the novice hurdle is divided (which seems likely) the maximum field for our race could be as low as 12, which would make our participation very dubious. You know my views on the rule which brings this restriction into play, so there is no point in my repeating my explanation of why it is such a bad one. Anyway, she either will run or won't run next week, but if she does miss out she should be able to run somewhere - Leicester, Fakenham or Market Rasen - the following week. And then we have Polly to look forward to at the end of the month. I galloped her again today and really enjoyed it. Fingers crossed she'll provide us with a bit of fun to help us through the winter.
Has the world gone mad?
Here's a line from The Dikler in today's Racing Post (and like so many of The Dikler's lines, it has the unmistakeable finger prints of Rodney Masters on it): "... has left the sport to work for a ship-repair marketing agency in Lechlade, Gloucestershire". Am I alone in finding this baffling? What on earth is a 'ship-repair marketing agency', if indeed such a thing exists? (And why, if indeed it exists, why isn't in on the coast?) Does this make any sense at all? As if this wasn't evidence enough that the world has gone mad, how about the existence, as we discovered at the National Horse Racing Museum quiz on Friday night, of a 'celebrity venture-capitalist'. At least we have to be pretty confident that such a person does exist, because we had a photograph of him, and Ollie knew who, and more pertinently what, he was straightaway. There are times when I get the impression that we are living in the 22nd century, and that when we left the 20th century at the end of 31st January 2000 (not 1999, as so many would have had us believe) we skipped the 21st century altogether - how else do you explain that pretty much every aspect of this century bears no relation at all to the century in which we grew up?
Here's another illustration of the world having gone mad, as pointed out to Emma and I by Hugh Collingridge (aka The Wizard Of Exning) at Yarmouth on October 23rd. There was a two-year-old maiden race that day, which was won by Miss Emma May, a daughter of Hawk Wing trained by David Elsworth. This was one of two divisions of the mile juvenile maiden, and each offered a prize to the winning owner of less than £2,000. And yet these are the prices that some of the horses therein had cost: 46,000 gns, 220,000 gns (for Miss Emma May), 40,000 gns, 80,000 gns, 40,000 gns, 200,000 gns, 82,000 euros, 65,000 gns. These, incidentally, were not the best-credentialled horses in the race, as the owner-bred horses were on paper the most valuable: a Red Ransom daughter of a dual-Classic winner in India, a Bahri half-sister to the 1,000 Guineas winner Lahan, a Peintre Celebre daughter of a Darshaan half-sister to Irish Oaks winner Winona, a Kingmambo filly from a winning Sadler's Wells mare, a Singspiel half-sister to Yorkshire Cup winner Franklins Gardens, a Sadlers Wells filly from the Mr Prospector mare Golden Digger (the dam of Naheef and Golden Sahara), a Dynaformer filly from the winning Storm Cat mare Thunder Mission, a Montjeu filly from a winning Caerleon half-sister to Tenby, a Red Ranson half-sister to Irish Oaks winner Vintage Tipple, a Machiavellian filly from the winning Darshaan mare Follow That Dream (who is a half-sister to Storming Home and who is a daughter of a half-sister to the dam of Poule d'Essai des Pouliches winner Musical Chimes). How much would the owners of that little lot have collected had they sold their horses as yearlings rather than deciding to race them themselves? Do you get my (ie Hugh's) drift? On a daily basis, the cream of the world's pedigrees are sent out on courses around Britain, at a cost of untold millions - and the incentive is that the owner of the winner picks up around £1,800. It is hard to enthuse about the long-term future of racing in this country while such a situation pertains.
But, fortunately for those who own or run racecourses, those who own chains of betting shops, those who collect salaries from the BHA or Weatherbys, the racing media and numerous others whose livelihood depends on the continued willingness of people to pay to race horses, we and countless other small or large investors keep going, feeling that the game is worth the candle, however expensive that candle is becoming. On this subject, that of continued optimism and love of the sport, I can report that the Key Of Luck filly was ridden by Martha for the first time today. All went smoothly and she behaved very well as David supervised the pair having a ride around the yard for quarter of an hour. That's our three young prospects from Fairyhouse all now ridden without incident, and we'll get the Halling filly too broken in the near future: she is standing in her stable wearing a saddle for the afternoon as I speak. We can continue to travel hopefully.
And we can travel hopefully too with Imperial Decree and Polychrome. The former runs on Friday at Wolverhampton, and I'd say that the latter looks like she'll be ready for a debut around the end of the month. Hugh and I (Hugh on Imperial Decree and I on Polly) gave them an easy gallop on the grass on Railway Land today and we were both very pleased with our mounts. The only other runner we are likely to have in the next month will be good old Lady Suffragette, who has been in work forever but who seems to be holding her condition extremely well. This afternoon I will enter her for a hurdle race at Bangor next Wednesday, which will be something to look forward to - not least because it could provide the catalyst for me to complete the full house of mainland Britain's racecourses, Bangor being the only one I've never visited. We don't expect to have many runners in the winter, and Imperial Decree is likely to be finished for this preparation after Friday, but we also have My Obsession, Belle Annie and Extreme Conviction all cantering along nicely just now, which is exciting. Take Me There has, as mentioned in Emma's blog, gone to Paul Nicholls' stable on a slightly unorthodox sale-or-return arrangement, but from the day he arrived here I understood that, were he to show good enough form to become valuable, he would be likely to be put on the market, so that's no problem at all; quite the reverse, in fact, because it was just nice to have him here while we did and to have him win a race for us, so his has been a very happy saga. His very nice and sporting owner Paul Devereaux is keen to retain an interest in him - he's owned enough non-performing horses in Ireland that he doesn't want to lose contact with the one he has had who has won a race for him - so the aim is that he can keep a share while a controlling interest is bought by one of the many big-spending patrons of Nicholls' stable. I hope that the horse can continue to provide Paul with thrilling days like the one we enjoyed at Fakenham.
I can't believe that I've written at such length when I'm still a bit jaded after my all-night stint on At The Races, which was really enjoyable. Dave Compton is great company and so easy to work with that it isn't work at all. The demise of Bay Story put a real dampener on the programme, but the rest of it was a pleasure to savour, with the slight exception of Christopher Cross miming to 'Fly Like The Wind' and the major exception of the indescribably awful acceptance speech of Graeme Rogerson, "trainer" of the winner. It would have been lovely to see Purple Moon hold on, but I don't begrudge lovely Efficient, whom we saw outsprint his vastly inferior rivals in the VRC Derby twelve months ago, his excellent success. I am just kicking myself that I, like so many, had jumped ship before his return to form. I was happy enough with my Cup suggestions: Zipping (4th), Master O'Reilly (8th), On A Jeune (6th), Purple Moon (2nd) and Gallic (scratched). I was even happier with my tipping for the rest of the programme, as virtually every winner was in my two or three against the field, and I even managed to give a trifecta in the correct order; but I can claim no credit for this at all, as I was working solely off the crib sheets given to me by Joff Dumas and Dan Happell. It's easy to pretend that you know what you are talking about if you know the right people.
Here's another illustration of the world having gone mad, as pointed out to Emma and I by Hugh Collingridge (aka The Wizard Of Exning) at Yarmouth on October 23rd. There was a two-year-old maiden race that day, which was won by Miss Emma May, a daughter of Hawk Wing trained by David Elsworth. This was one of two divisions of the mile juvenile maiden, and each offered a prize to the winning owner of less than £2,000. And yet these are the prices that some of the horses therein had cost: 46,000 gns, 220,000 gns (for Miss Emma May), 40,000 gns, 80,000 gns, 40,000 gns, 200,000 gns, 82,000 euros, 65,000 gns. These, incidentally, were not the best-credentialled horses in the race, as the owner-bred horses were on paper the most valuable: a Red Ransom daughter of a dual-Classic winner in India, a Bahri half-sister to the 1,000 Guineas winner Lahan, a Peintre Celebre daughter of a Darshaan half-sister to Irish Oaks winner Winona, a Kingmambo filly from a winning Sadler's Wells mare, a Singspiel half-sister to Yorkshire Cup winner Franklins Gardens, a Sadlers Wells filly from the Mr Prospector mare Golden Digger (the dam of Naheef and Golden Sahara), a Dynaformer filly from the winning Storm Cat mare Thunder Mission, a Montjeu filly from a winning Caerleon half-sister to Tenby, a Red Ranson half-sister to Irish Oaks winner Vintage Tipple, a Machiavellian filly from the winning Darshaan mare Follow That Dream (who is a half-sister to Storming Home and who is a daughter of a half-sister to the dam of Poule d'Essai des Pouliches winner Musical Chimes). How much would the owners of that little lot have collected had they sold their horses as yearlings rather than deciding to race them themselves? Do you get my (ie Hugh's) drift? On a daily basis, the cream of the world's pedigrees are sent out on courses around Britain, at a cost of untold millions - and the incentive is that the owner of the winner picks up around £1,800. It is hard to enthuse about the long-term future of racing in this country while such a situation pertains.
But, fortunately for those who own or run racecourses, those who own chains of betting shops, those who collect salaries from the BHA or Weatherbys, the racing media and numerous others whose livelihood depends on the continued willingness of people to pay to race horses, we and countless other small or large investors keep going, feeling that the game is worth the candle, however expensive that candle is becoming. On this subject, that of continued optimism and love of the sport, I can report that the Key Of Luck filly was ridden by Martha for the first time today. All went smoothly and she behaved very well as David supervised the pair having a ride around the yard for quarter of an hour. That's our three young prospects from Fairyhouse all now ridden without incident, and we'll get the Halling filly too broken in the near future: she is standing in her stable wearing a saddle for the afternoon as I speak. We can continue to travel hopefully.
And we can travel hopefully too with Imperial Decree and Polychrome. The former runs on Friday at Wolverhampton, and I'd say that the latter looks like she'll be ready for a debut around the end of the month. Hugh and I (Hugh on Imperial Decree and I on Polly) gave them an easy gallop on the grass on Railway Land today and we were both very pleased with our mounts. The only other runner we are likely to have in the next month will be good old Lady Suffragette, who has been in work forever but who seems to be holding her condition extremely well. This afternoon I will enter her for a hurdle race at Bangor next Wednesday, which will be something to look forward to - not least because it could provide the catalyst for me to complete the full house of mainland Britain's racecourses, Bangor being the only one I've never visited. We don't expect to have many runners in the winter, and Imperial Decree is likely to be finished for this preparation after Friday, but we also have My Obsession, Belle Annie and Extreme Conviction all cantering along nicely just now, which is exciting. Take Me There has, as mentioned in Emma's blog, gone to Paul Nicholls' stable on a slightly unorthodox sale-or-return arrangement, but from the day he arrived here I understood that, were he to show good enough form to become valuable, he would be likely to be put on the market, so that's no problem at all; quite the reverse, in fact, because it was just nice to have him here while we did and to have him win a race for us, so his has been a very happy saga. His very nice and sporting owner Paul Devereaux is keen to retain an interest in him - he's owned enough non-performing horses in Ireland that he doesn't want to lose contact with the one he has had who has won a race for him - so the aim is that he can keep a share while a controlling interest is bought by one of the many big-spending patrons of Nicholls' stable. I hope that the horse can continue to provide Paul with thrilling days like the one we enjoyed at Fakenham.
I can't believe that I've written at such length when I'm still a bit jaded after my all-night stint on At The Races, which was really enjoyable. Dave Compton is great company and so easy to work with that it isn't work at all. The demise of Bay Story put a real dampener on the programme, but the rest of it was a pleasure to savour, with the slight exception of Christopher Cross miming to 'Fly Like The Wind' and the major exception of the indescribably awful acceptance speech of Graeme Rogerson, "trainer" of the winner. It would have been lovely to see Purple Moon hold on, but I don't begrudge lovely Efficient, whom we saw outsprint his vastly inferior rivals in the VRC Derby twelve months ago, his excellent success. I am just kicking myself that I, like so many, had jumped ship before his return to form. I was happy enough with my Cup suggestions: Zipping (4th), Master O'Reilly (8th), On A Jeune (6th), Purple Moon (2nd) and Gallic (scratched). I was even happier with my tipping for the rest of the programme, as virtually every winner was in my two or three against the field, and I even managed to give a trifecta in the correct order; but I can claim no credit for this at all, as I was working solely off the crib sheets given to me by Joff Dumas and Dan Happell. It's easy to pretend that you know what you are talking about if you know the right people.
Horses In Training Sale week
Last week was Horses In Training Sale week, which is always quite a depressing one. For sure, it can be an exciting one, if one is on the look-out for a new prospect - but even if one is, it's always hard to escape the twin aspects of a catalogue largely composed of people's broken dreams, and of horses whose lives can be in for a big upheaval, and often not a positive one. However, I'm pleased to say that my experience of it was good. I did as little as possible through the week, on account of a heavy cold, but my one assignment at the sale was to try to find a horse to race for Tony Le Brocq in Jersey. The last horse I'd sent out to him was a huge success - Minnie's Mystery, a 700 gns buy at Doncaster who won a stack of races out there including the Derby and Guineas, and who is now, thanks to Tony's typical generosity, back in my ownership in her retirement, and in foal to Largesse - so I doubt if this one can be as good a buy, but I'm very happy to have secured for him Hamilton House, for 3,000 gns out of Mark Tompkins' stable. He seems a sweet horse and a durable one too, so fingers crossed he will be able to race there successfully for an extended period, proving a pleasure for all involved with him, and then look forward to a life of happiness in his retirement, being made even more of a pet than he will be while he is in training. At horse sales, it is easy to get the impression that, for the vast majority of 'traders' present, the horse is a commodity first and foremost, and a creature to be protected and loved (at best) second, and that the actual sport of racing horses is merely incidental to the trading - so what a pleasure it was to have gone there solely to seek a horse who now has his future secure and whose new connections are really excited about the prospect of welcoming him home, so that they can enjoy the thrill of racing him and the pleasure of looking after him. He came from, and on the recommendation of, our neighbour Mark Tompkins (one of the few people in racing that I would trust enough to take his recommendation on face value) and was obviously loved in his previous home, and the icing on the cake was that Mark and his wife are as pleased that he is going to a nice home as his new connections are at the prospect of his arrival.
Really, I ought to be saying that was the full extent of my involvement in the sale, but of course the bidding bug had bitten me, and I couldn't let it rest there. Friday saw a day of yearlings, and a black day for vendors it proved to be. Supply exceeded demand to a huge degree, and even quite nice horses failed to attract a bid. Henry and Rosemary Moszkowicz were sellling four Largesses, through Greg Parsons' Upperwood Farm, so I met them up there on a gloriously warm and sunny morning. Henry and Rosemary appear to be retaining one which James Eustace bought, and the other three all found homes, albeit for small sums. I actually found myself bidding 2,000 gns for a sister to Bel Cantor and Lazy Darren, but she ended up being sold for 3,500 gns to go to Italy. My bidding lust was really up by this time, so I had to return to Tattersalls that evening to watch a smashing Sulamani filly being sold. As her dam was a half-sister to Prix Du Cadran winner San Sebastian and to the Listed winner Chesa Plana (better known as the dam of Japan Cup winner Alkaased), she was very well-credentialled to be a very good stayer, especially as those two horses are both by Sulamani 's sire Hernando. We felt she might not make very much, and she didn't at all by any normal standard, but the 9,500 gns for which Matt Coleman bought her (on behalf of Mick Easterby) was more than I felt in a position to outlay.
Fortunately or unfortunately (I'll tell you in three years time which one of those words applies) I decided to stay on to watch her fellow Genesis Green Stud offering being sold, a filly by Halling from a smashing damline (pictured). Her fourth dam is the 1,000 Guineas winner Full Dress II, her third dam is the Musidora place-getter Fairly Hot (dam of Dante winner Hot Touch), while her winning dam is a half-sister to Lingfield Oaks Trial runner-up Bunting, the dam of two extremely good horses, Winter Derby winner Parasol and Pretty Polly Stakes winner (and triple Group One place-getter) Mot Juste. As Parasol is also by Halling, she is obviously extremely well bred. I suspected that she might fetch very little, and that was indeed what happened: she fetched 1,200 gns, bought by me. Now, this isn't necessarily the bargain which I might have made her seem, because, although she is from a distance a very nice filly, she does have a few blemishes - most notably a thickening on the upper part of her near-fore tendon, which I am making an educated guess will be of no long-term signficance, but which would have made the majority of potential buyers run a mile - so I think that, especially as she is a May foal, I won't really be aiming to do much with her in the next twelve months. But - nothing ventured, nothing gained, so we'll see what transpires. I'll be very surprised if that purchase turns out to be the worst bargain I've ever secured. Furthermore, the other good thing is that I have proved to Emma that I do occasionally pay attention to what she says - and as I've often heard her, in her role of Darley publicist, quoting the statistic that 25% of all Halling's runners attain a Timeform rating of at least 100. This filly is nice enough, and her damline strong enough, for us to say that we can use that to give her a 25% chance of gaining that rating - on which basis 1,200 gns was a worthwhile sum to risk. I'll keep you posted - but don't expect too many bulletins too quickly.
We brought this filly home yesterday morning, leading her through the town and across the bottom of the Heath, and she has happily settled into the herd. The other three yearlings are all very settled and they have accepted her into their gang. Two of the three are broken - Hernando and Catcher In The Rye - and Key Of Luck is almost ready to be ridden. This has proved a very straightforward process, and speaks a lot not only of the horses' temperaments, but also of David, Martha and Hugh, who have done the job with minimal assistance from me. And, of course, Pantomime Prince, as this picture shows, has been a perfect role model.
That's pretty much my review of the week. The one thing missing is a review of Friday's racing at Newmarket, but I wasn't there so I can't give you one. But I'm sure if I'd been there I'd have made item number one David Elsworth's reaction to his non-runner. I noted in the paper that one horse was scratched for an unusual reason ("wrong horse brought to course") and, as Elsie is renowned for his explosive temper, I bet that everyone on the Rowley Mile would have heard his reaction when he discovered the mistake. It would have been worth seeing - and hearing! I presume it took a while for anyone to notice, because his stable is only about a mile and a half from the track, so if it had been spotted as the horse arrived, there would still have been time to bring the right one over. The lad responsible for that error obviously wins black mark of the day, but the Genesis Green staff weren't far behind. The yearlings were being sold in the evening after dark, and obviously wouldn't be transported to their new homes until the next day. Under those circumstances, there is an unwritten rule that the vendor leaves the yearlings with feed to last them the night - because obviously purchasers don't come to the sale with any, and the majority of purchasers wouldn't even go round to the barns after the auction to look at their new horses anyway - and with a head-collar on. This latter aspect is now actually, I think, a written rule, because it is a basic safety precaution as well as a courtesy. Anyway - as you've probably guessed - when I went round to see my new purchase quarter of an hour after signing for her, she'd been abandoned with neither feed nor hay nor head-collar. Matt Coleman came round to see the Sulamani only because we were going round there, so it was more by luck than judgement that these two horses weren't stuck with just the choice that night of eating straw or nothing. The horses had clearly been prepared extremely well by the stud and were in great condition, having had the best possible care prior to the auction but it was disappointing to discover that the people concerned lost all interest in them once the hammer had fallen - you see what I mean about people at the sales regarding the horses as commodities to be traded, rather than animals to be cared for? And Tattersalls pay for the hay, so it wouldn't even have cost them anything to ensure that the horse had plenty to eat for the night. Amazing.
Anyway, it's been good to write plenty today, as it means I'm not talking, so I'm resting my throat. My voice has been semi-absent the past couple of days, but I need it back by tomorrow evening for my overnight stint as co-presenter for Flemington on At The Races. Fingers crossed I'll be ok. I'm really looking forward to the night, and hope that I'll be joining Dave Compton, who is excellent to work with and with whom I shared the job in 2004 and 2005. For what it's worth, my 1-2-3 is likely to be Zipping, Master O'Reilly and (to throw in a roughie, because you can't really just box up the first three favourites) On A Jeune. And Purple Moon and Gallic should be breathing down their necks. The draw is such a complicating factor this year, with nearly all the better chances drawn extremely badly drawn, so it'll be a fascinating race, as ever. I'm really looking forward to it.
Really, I ought to be saying that was the full extent of my involvement in the sale, but of course the bidding bug had bitten me, and I couldn't let it rest there. Friday saw a day of yearlings, and a black day for vendors it proved to be. Supply exceeded demand to a huge degree, and even quite nice horses failed to attract a bid. Henry and Rosemary Moszkowicz were sellling four Largesses, through Greg Parsons' Upperwood Farm, so I met them up there on a gloriously warm and sunny morning. Henry and Rosemary appear to be retaining one which James Eustace bought, and the other three all found homes, albeit for small sums. I actually found myself bidding 2,000 gns for a sister to Bel Cantor and Lazy Darren, but she ended up being sold for 3,500 gns to go to Italy. My bidding lust was really up by this time, so I had to return to Tattersalls that evening to watch a smashing Sulamani filly being sold. As her dam was a half-sister to Prix Du Cadran winner San Sebastian and to the Listed winner Chesa Plana (better known as the dam of Japan Cup winner Alkaased), she was very well-credentialled to be a very good stayer, especially as those two horses are both by Sulamani 's sire Hernando. We felt she might not make very much, and she didn't at all by any normal standard, but the 9,500 gns for which Matt Coleman bought her (on behalf of Mick Easterby) was more than I felt in a position to outlay.
Fortunately or unfortunately (I'll tell you in three years time which one of those words applies) I decided to stay on to watch her fellow Genesis Green Stud offering being sold, a filly by Halling from a smashing damline (pictured). Her fourth dam is the 1,000 Guineas winner Full Dress II, her third dam is the Musidora place-getter Fairly Hot (dam of Dante winner Hot Touch), while her winning dam is a half-sister to Lingfield Oaks Trial runner-up Bunting, the dam of two extremely good horses, Winter Derby winner Parasol and Pretty Polly Stakes winner (and triple Group One place-getter) Mot Juste. As Parasol is also by Halling, she is obviously extremely well bred. I suspected that she might fetch very little, and that was indeed what happened: she fetched 1,200 gns, bought by me. Now, this isn't necessarily the bargain which I might have made her seem, because, although she is from a distance a very nice filly, she does have a few blemishes - most notably a thickening on the upper part of her near-fore tendon, which I am making an educated guess will be of no long-term signficance, but which would have made the majority of potential buyers run a mile - so I think that, especially as she is a May foal, I won't really be aiming to do much with her in the next twelve months. But - nothing ventured, nothing gained, so we'll see what transpires. I'll be very surprised if that purchase turns out to be the worst bargain I've ever secured. Furthermore, the other good thing is that I have proved to Emma that I do occasionally pay attention to what she says - and as I've often heard her, in her role of Darley publicist, quoting the statistic that 25% of all Halling's runners attain a Timeform rating of at least 100. This filly is nice enough, and her damline strong enough, for us to say that we can use that to give her a 25% chance of gaining that rating - on which basis 1,200 gns was a worthwhile sum to risk. I'll keep you posted - but don't expect too many bulletins too quickly.
We brought this filly home yesterday morning, leading her through the town and across the bottom of the Heath, and she has happily settled into the herd. The other three yearlings are all very settled and they have accepted her into their gang. Two of the three are broken - Hernando and Catcher In The Rye - and Key Of Luck is almost ready to be ridden. This has proved a very straightforward process, and speaks a lot not only of the horses' temperaments, but also of David, Martha and Hugh, who have done the job with minimal assistance from me. And, of course, Pantomime Prince, as this picture shows, has been a perfect role model. That's pretty much my review of the week. The one thing missing is a review of Friday's racing at Newmarket, but I wasn't there so I can't give you one. But I'm sure if I'd been there I'd have made item number one David Elsworth's reaction to his non-runner. I noted in the paper that one horse was scratched for an unusual reason ("wrong horse brought to course") and, as Elsie is renowned for his explosive temper, I bet that everyone on the Rowley Mile would have heard his reaction when he discovered the mistake. It would have been worth seeing - and hearing! I presume it took a while for anyone to notice, because his stable is only about a mile and a half from the track, so if it had been spotted as the horse arrived, there would still have been time to bring the right one over. The lad responsible for that error obviously wins black mark of the day, but the Genesis Green staff weren't far behind. The yearlings were being sold in the evening after dark, and obviously wouldn't be transported to their new homes until the next day. Under those circumstances, there is an unwritten rule that the vendor leaves the yearlings with feed to last them the night - because obviously purchasers don't come to the sale with any, and the majority of purchasers wouldn't even go round to the barns after the auction to look at their new horses anyway - and with a head-collar on. This latter aspect is now actually, I think, a written rule, because it is a basic safety precaution as well as a courtesy. Anyway - as you've probably guessed - when I went round to see my new purchase quarter of an hour after signing for her, she'd been abandoned with neither feed nor hay nor head-collar. Matt Coleman came round to see the Sulamani only because we were going round there, so it was more by luck than judgement that these two horses weren't stuck with just the choice that night of eating straw or nothing. The horses had clearly been prepared extremely well by the stud and were in great condition, having had the best possible care prior to the auction but it was disappointing to discover that the people concerned lost all interest in them once the hammer had fallen - you see what I mean about people at the sales regarding the horses as commodities to be traded, rather than animals to be cared for? And Tattersalls pay for the hay, so it wouldn't even have cost them anything to ensure that the horse had plenty to eat for the night. Amazing.
Anyway, it's been good to write plenty today, as it means I'm not talking, so I'm resting my throat. My voice has been semi-absent the past couple of days, but I need it back by tomorrow evening for my overnight stint as co-presenter for Flemington on At The Races. Fingers crossed I'll be ok. I'm really looking forward to the night, and hope that I'll be joining Dave Compton, who is excellent to work with and with whom I shared the job in 2004 and 2005. For what it's worth, my 1-2-3 is likely to be Zipping, Master O'Reilly and (to throw in a roughie, because you can't really just box up the first three favourites) On A Jeune. And Purple Moon and Gallic should be breathing down their necks. The draw is such a complicating factor this year, with nearly all the better chances drawn extremely badly drawn, so it'll be a fascinating race, as ever. I'm really looking forward to it.
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