This country!

How's this for timing? I wrote a chapter last Friday in which I lampooned the nanny state's insistence that everyone should be treated as if they are six years old and have every aspect of their lives overseen and regulated. So what happened? The following morning's post brought an unsolicited leaflet from one small branch of what one could call 'The Qualification-Manufacturing Industry' which the nanny state has spawned, from a firm calling itself 'bts training', offering me the opportunity to send staff (or myself, presumably) on various courses. So we have options including a two-day course called 'Strimmer/Brushcutter' (£192.50 + VAT); 5-day '5 Day Basic Chainsaw' (£495 + VAT); four-day 'Climb Trees and Perform Aerial Rescue' (£550 + VAT); one-day 'Hiab (Lorry Hook)' (£195 + VAT); one-day 'Transport of Animals (Short Journeys)' (£67); three-day 'Fell Small Trees' (£330 + VAT); two-day 'Chainsaw Maintenance and Cross-Cutting' (£230 + VAT)'; one-day 'Aerial Pruning Techniques' (£115 + VAT); one-day 'Stump Grinder' (£104.50 + VAT). I'd been planning in writing out this list to italicise the more startling aspects of the titles, but then I realised that the whole list would be in italics, so I've just left it as it is. As Alan Partridge would say, "This country!".

To move on to topics less likely to make one tear one's hair out, another piece of good timing came with my writing about the pleasure which I had gleaned from Richard Sims' winner that day. This turned out to be merely the first of three nice results. The following afternoon we went to Horseheath for our local point-to-point, the Thurlow, the highlight of which for us was watching John Morrey ride his own horse into second in the Hunt race. Although strictly speaking this was not a win, it was as good as: not only because John, in addition presumably to having enjoyed the thrill of the ride, could savour the experience of a job well done just as much as if he had won, but also because the horse effectively was the winner of the Hunt race. The thing is that nowadays Hunt races have been largely phased out because of being too restricted and therefore uncompetitive, so what passed for the Hunt race was actually a race confined to horses qualified with one of the several hunts who hold their point-to-points at Horseheath. Over and above the prize for the winner, there was also a separate prize for the first horse home actually qualified with the Thurlow, which John won, the winner being from another pack. So I don't think that it's stretching the point too much to say that John and his horse won the Hunt race.

So that was nice win number two, and news of nice win number three followed shortly afterwards when Squeaker rang me to tell me that he'd ridden a winner at Taby that afternoon, his first success since he had visited us on his holiday. He'd had five rides since his break, for a win and a second, so he's obviously getting on with 2008 as successfully as he fared during 2007, which is great.

Which brings us on to another great character. She's be horrified to think that there is any similarity or connection at all, but when compiling a list of remarkable people who seem to be a fairly constant thread through life, Barbara Lockhart-Smith would feature on it nearly as highly as Squeak. So, sure enough, we had our first visit from her of 2008 yesterday. She and her friend Sue appeared here out of the blue yesterday afternoon, entertained us with a steady stream of Barbaraisms, departed to keep Geoff Wragg on his toes during his round of evening stables, and then returned for dinner, where the brahmae continued to flow thick and fast. To many Barbara's name won't mean anything, but the best way to sum her up is that she was the archtypal formidable, fearsome and redoubtable female trainer long before anyone had ever heard of Jenny Pitman; those familiar with her name will doubtless recall her charges Steel Bridge (second under Richard Pitman to Highland Wedding in the 1969 Grand National) and Sartorius (fourth under Terry Biddlecombe to Arkle in the 1966 Cheltenham Gold Cup), although of course those horses were at the time (because women were not then allowed to hold training licenses) officially trained by her long-suffering husband Lt-Commander R. A. Lockhart-Smith, RN, who must have made the most unlikely trainer ever, having apparently no interest in or knowledge of horses or racing whatsoever. The irony is, of course, that in those days someone like Commander Lockhart-Smith could be granted a training license even though completely unqualified to hold one, and everyone, including those who gave him his license to be his wife's public figurehead, knew the situation; but nowadays, although things are supposed to be better run, he'd still get his license and nobody would understand the problem, because he'd attend a load of bts training-type courses, brandish a sheaf of certificates supposedly proving how well qualified he was and everyone would be happy.

Perseverance pays

Today got off to a good start with the news that Forest Murmur had saluted the judge in the first, a 2000m maiden, at Naracoorte. For those of you unfamiliar with this horse - ie anyone who doesn't know Richard Sims; anyone who does know Richard will feel that they know this horse very well indeed - Forest Murmur is a six-year-old gelding by Western Symphony from Miss Emma, who was, I believe, a good mare in New Zealand in her youth but whose best days were behind her when Richard, in partnership with his father and brother, bought her a few years ago, by which time she was aged about twenty. Richard couldn't be described as a lucky owner, but his enthusiasm for ownership, like his loyalty to his horses, is boundless; consequently I am always delighted when he enjoys success. So Clan Sims bred Forest Murmur, and have had their patience sorely tested as a result. For the injury-plagued horse's current preparation, Richard did something quite sensible, sending him to be trained in Warrnambool, whence it would be feasible for him to race in the weak races in Victoria's Western District and in the even weaker ones across the border in South Australia. Which is exactly where Forest Murmur saluted today. A 2000m maiden at Naracoorte on a Friday is, by definition, about as weak as you'd get, but a win's a win. Especially for the owner/breeders of a six-year-old. Our ATR offering overnight was Kyneton and Quirindi so I hadn't been able to watch it, but I was preparing to go on to the TAB site to check the results before I went outside when the text came through from a jubilant Dickie, so that sent me off the for the day with a smile on my face.

I'd had a smile on my face at various times earlier in the week, too. My son Anthony always provides us with plenty of smiles when he's here, and this week's half-term visit was no exception. His being here coincided with Dave and Carolyn Huelin passing through on their way back to Jersey from their winter holiday, which was lovely. The highlight was an excellent dinner, which also included Colin and Eileen Casey. Emma's excellent roast lamb received a real thumbs-up, with both Anthony and Colin leaving a clean plate. Colin even had a second helping, which is something which happens about once every fifty years. Eagled-eyed Racing Post readers might have spotted Colin making an appearance in Brough Scott's column recently, after Brough had enjoyed an evening in the company of Colin and Willie Snaith in Tenerife on Jack Berry's Injured Jockeys' Fund holiday; I doubt that Colin ate much that night, although I suspect that he might have drunk some Scotch.

It's been cold, as the lack of jump racing earlier in the week suggested, but winter's ain't what they used to be, and that brief cold snap, which was accompanied by sensational dawns and even better dusks, appears to have been and gone. The frosts have knocked the spring grass on the head for the time being - our re-seeded field out the back was starting to come on really well, but it's looking rather sorry for itself now - but fingers crossed that is only a temporary setback. Even though spring seems thus almost here, we won't be having any runners for a while, Polychrome's intended third start 22 days hence being the next in line. Run From Nun just ran an ordinary race at Kempton, and I think that the sensible thing is to give her a break and freshen her up for the summer: she's only a small, young filly who's now had six races in five months, so her best chance of winning a race probably lies in starting the summer, when there ought to be several options on the firm tracks which her physique suggests she ought to handle, fresh. Our outing to Kempton when she ran wasn't the most exciting trip to the races I've ever had, but one ray of sunshine was provided by seeing Jerry O'Dwyer ride the winner of the race after ours for John Ryan. Run From Nun had travelled to the races in company with that horse, so it was nice that the lorry came home with one winner on board - and Jerry is a hard-working and very likeable young jockey who deserves his success. The icing on the cake, of course, came the next day when we checked the later results and saw that Jerry had ridden two more winners later in the evening, thus achieving his first treble.

Others who are overdue for a mention in dispatches include Andrew Stringer, who has taken over Barney Curley's string while Barney administers his DAFA charity which is, of course, now awash with cash thanks to Sheikh Mohammed's generous stipulation when he sold the Racing Post. It's probably pretty much business as usual in Cleveland House, because Andrew had been overseeing daily operations for years anyway and Barney is obviously still very much in evidence, as I noted the other morning when passing him and Jamie Spencer chatting on the grass verge outside the stable. But, even so, it was a nice milestone the other day when Andrew posted the first winner of this phase of his training career. I remember him enjoying a good run of success in Bellwood Stables, near Malton, roughly twenty years ago when he took over the stable on the sudden death of Tony Charlton; they had a horse called Tinimion who won something like eight consecutive races, mixing flat and hurdles. I would guess that Tinimion had maybe the first two or three wins in this streak under Tony Charlton's care and then the remainder for Andrew. That yard, of course, is now the home of several very successful horses as it is John Quinn's principal base. Otherwise, Sean Travis takes the bulk of the plaudits for winning the Stable Lad Of The Year award. We see Sean most days in Jeremy Noseda's string, and see even more of his brother Liam Casey, one of this stable's best friends. You might find it odd that Sean Travis and Liam Casey should be brothers, but that's something which can be filed in the 'strange but true' category. I had hoped that we might have had a contender in the latter stages of one category of the awards - that of newcomer - as I thought that Martha was a very deserving nominee, and that her entry, into which she had put a lot of effort, was excellent. Disappointingly, though, she didn't even make the 'thanks but no thanks' commended list. Which is really odd, because in the first year of the awards I had put the name of a lad called Stuart Wade, who was close to useless, forward - for no reason other than that the Racing Posts kept writing that trainers were being too lazy to nominate people - and, even though he would have been the most undeserving winner one could ever envisage, he was rewarded with some sort of close-but-not-close-enough piece of paper. But for Martha nothing, which was a shame.

(By the way, if anyone thinks I'm being harsh in describing Stuart as close to useless, I ask you to consider this rather amusing little story. Every year each stable receives a check-up from the Jockey Club (sorry, BHA) inspection officer, which in our case is the former Squeak Fairhurst apprentice Mark Beecroft. Each year Mark goes through the usual list of questions (Do you have a first aid box? Do you have an accident book? Do you offer to wipe the staff's arses for them if they are having difficulties? Tie their shoe laces? Provide sun block cream for them for the 2 hours of strong sunlight which Newmarket receives each year? ... ). Anyway, when Mark visited the year Stuart had worked here I proudly reached for the accident book in the tea room when he asked about it, proffering it to him and saying, "Yes, we've definitely got one, but whether anyone's ever written anything in it is another matter". So Mark opened it to be polite and, instead of finding the blank pages which he and I expected to see, found that someone (not me) had recorded one, and only one, accident: "Employing Stuart"!!!).

Midweek update

We're two thirds of the way through our flock of runners (ie we've had two runners) and results have so far been mixed. On a strike rate basis, the results aren't mixed: they're uniform, the strike rate remaining at a constant 0%. But as regards satisfaction, Mobs' run was very disappointing, but Polly's was pleasing. We'd been hoping against hope ever since it became plain last autumn that Mobs needed a wind operation. I know that there is anecdotal evidence that such things can work, but I think that a lot of it is based on the supposed success of such operations given to horses who don't actually need them. I've never had a good result with them, having them only applied when the horse genuinely has gone in the wind, and I'm afraid now that Mobs has failed to buck that trend. The proof of the pudding can only come under racing conditions, but I'm afraid that we now know that a lot of time and money has been wasted. That's very disappointing, but the one consolation is that it is only the horse's connections for whom one should feel sorry: from the horse's point of view it's a case of 'No worries, mate' as he walks away from racing safe and sound and can go on to enjoy life doing anything else. And, as we know he is a lovely jumper, he'll make someone a grand hunter, eventer, show-jumper or such like, and should thus have a long, happy and useful future guaranteed. (On which subject, incidentally, Bilkie is excelling as a show-jumper in his life after racing).

Fingers crossed Polly now has a useful life in racing to look forward to, because her run at Lingfield yesterday was very good. She should still have a lot of improvement in her, which is an exciting thought, as she showed a lot of ability yesterday, albeit finishing out of the money, 4.5 lengths behind the winner. It looked a good race and I expect that it will throw up a lot of future winners. The Derby entry Eastern Hills ought to come into this category, as should the third Seasonal Cross, a really nice Cape Cross filly who is trained by Simon Dow. And on the subject of nice horses against whom we have raced, the winner of Mobs' race at Folkestone looks a lovely horse; I can't remember his name, but anyone who is interested can easily look it out. He is a very light grey son of Verglas, who is far from an obvious National Hunt stallion.

Mobs isn't the only horse here looking for a new home, because a steeplechaser called Guymur arrived here yesterday under strange, rather disturbing, circumstances. He is a smashing horse who has been retired from racing because of supposed fetlock problems, but if I am any judge of a horse at all he has an excellent future either in or out of racing. He is a grand horse who won a handicap steeplechase at Newton Abbot last summer, is still only aged eight, so we'll have to give careful thought as to what is best to do with him. Whatever he does do, he will be a wonderful horse for someone. He's the sort of horse anyone keen on hunting would give their eye teeth to own, but I won't rush into any snap decisions about moving him on, because he has so much potential that it would be wise to make sure that he is sent in a direction where it would be maximised.

But the really big news is that I've become a breeder. I have previously sent a mare to a stallion (Bin Ajwaad) but no longer been her owner when the foal was born (ie I wasn't the breeder of the foal), and have also been the owner of a mare when her foal was born (Last Quarry foaling a colt to Shareef Dancer) which meant that, even though I didn't plan the mating or own her at the time of conception, I was technically the breeder. But now I am the breeder in fact and every other way, because Minnie's Mystery, whom I own because of Tony Le Brocq's kindness, gave birth to her first foal, a colt by Largesse, on Sunday at Haras de la Cauviniere in Normandy. The stud's proprietor Sylvain Vidal has sent me photographs of the proud mother and her handsome son, and I really find this very exciting. Fingers crossed all will run smoothly and Minnie's will be covered by Gold Away at some point in the next few weeks. The new arrival is certainly the son of an in-form stallion, because Largesse has had three winners in the last three weeks from very few runners: our old friend Milton's Keen, who finally won a race by coming from last to first over a mile at Kempton under a very good ride from Tom McLaughlin, Bel Cantor and Lazy Darren, who looks a young hurdler with a lot of promise. Wouldn't it be lovely if we're saying something similar about his youngest paternal half-brother at some point in the next few years?

Punting, drinking, shagging ...

'Not a day goes by without someone coming up to me at the races and saying they enjoyed it. Different people like different aspects, be it the punting, the drinking or the shagging'. No, I'm afraid that isn't my summary of the feedback I've received about this blog, although you probably thought it was. It was actually Dave Nevison, as quoted in yesterday's Racing Post, talking about readers' reactions to his book. I haven't read it, so I can't comment on its merit, but I think that those reflections have ensured that I am unlikely to do so. I'll stick to Henning Mankell and Peter Temple, who have been entertaining me so well recently. And I've been lent a history of Goodwood racecourse by Roger Vicarage which looks interesting; if that's as good as the last racing book I read, the Vincent O'Brien biography, it will be excellent.

I've been chuckling about a passage from Henning Mankell recently, in the wake of Squeak's visit. The main character Kurt Wallander, the senior detective with the police force in Ystad, a town in southern Sweden, is investigating the latest brutal murder. In the course of the investigation, he interviews an older man called Bror Sundelius, whose reaction to the crime is to ask the rhetorical question, "What kind of people do we let into this country anyway?". This comment puzzles Wallander, who replies, "There is no evidence that this was the work of an immigrant. Why would you think that?". Sundelius' reply is splendid: "It seems obvious to me. No Swede could have done anything like this."! As some of you may know, Squeaker was raised in an environment where liberal thinking wasn't encouraged, so he consequently is cursed with what one might call rather old-fashioned views on some aspects of life. In Squeak's mind, one of the advantages of Sweden is that it doesn't have an immigration problem, but as Bror Sundelius' thought make plain, not all Swedes share that view. Furthermore, I suspect that, were Bror Sundelius to move to Taby, bumping into Squeaker might reinforce his (misguided - the serial killer did, unsurprisingly, turn out to be a Swede) views!

The weekend's racing confirmed that I should indeed leave the punting, drinking and shagging to Dave Nevison, as two of my Cheltenham dark horses (Blue Bajan and Thyne Again) ran and neither ran well, so that doesn't bode well for my punting prowess. So where does that leave us with forecasting how the stable's runners this week will fare? I don't know really. My Obsession ought to run a decent race tomorrow if he doesn't find the two miles too far: as his previous trip to Folkestone resulted in a win over seven furlongs, it can't be taken for granted that two miles over the same track will be ideal. It would require a similar leap of faith to forecast a win for Polychrome on Wednesday, as I think the bare form of her debut suggests she ought to finish towards the rear of the race; under the circumstances, I'll just settle for saying that I predict that she will put in an improved performance this time. And then we have Run From Nun on Saturday. She's run quite well on both her runs for us to date, and she ought to do so again. We've started the week with glorious weather - overnight frosts being replaced, after golden pink sunrises, by warm sunny days - so if we could have three safe and pleasing runs to go with it, that would be lovely.

Winter reflections

There's a good article by Turia Tellwright in today's Racing Post, in which she outlines her experiences spending last week working in Nigel Twiston-Davies' stable. She has avoided falling into the commonly-met traps of overplaying either the advantages or the disadvantages of the job, and has instead written a balanced, interesting and informative article. The one slightly misleading impression is that the job comes across as more physically demanding than it is. But, as she is intentionally writing a subjective diary, she was correct to portray it thus: if one does it every day, it becomes easy, but if one comes to it out of the blue - even if fit for other strenuous activities - it is initially very taxing. What was unarguably tough, though, was the fact that, by chance, her week included what I hope will prove to be the most unpleasant day of the year: last Thursday, which was cold, very wet and very, very windy. For those farther north than here, much of the rain was snow. It was horrible here, and by the sound of it was even more horrible in the Cotswolds. The rain wasn't really hard here until the second half of the morning, so only poor Hugh copped a real drenching, when out on his own on Jill for the last lot. The wind, however, was extremely strong all day, and thus the day exposed the flaw in the theory that one sometimes hears, that of it being too windy to rain. (The mere fact that there is a phrase 'driving rain' suggests that that idea doesn't necessarily hold water).

Otherwise, we've had some rather nice days, if one ignores the wind (which admittedly isn't easy). Hand in hand with these nice days have come some nice rides: now that we are into the second month of the year, the horses' work in general is being upped, so they are taking it a bit more seriously, rather than just larking around and trying to throw their riders off. We had four unseated riders in January; fingers crossed that will prove to be our most dramatic month of the year. Certainly if the horses keep giving us as nice rides as we've enjoyed recently we'll be happy. Imperial Decree (pictured here with Struck Lucky), who could always be a bit skittish last year, has been the real star turn: she seems to have matured a lot both physically and mentally over the winter, and is now a real pleasure to ride. I was lucky enough to find this when we took the traditional first of February canter up the freshly-opened grass on Warren Hill, as I kept Hugh on the (impressively well-behaved) Key Of Luck filly company on what turned out to be a satisfactorily straightforward exercise. It is always nice when a youngster canters out on the open Heath for the first time, as opposed to going up the all-weather, so that was good, and a tribute to how well Hugh and Martha have educated the little filly. If Imperial Decree hasn't been exercising with the two-year-old, she's been going out with Anis Etoile, and she too is going about her work in a very pleasing manner. The same comment applies to the older pair, Jill and Brief, who both feel a million dollars just now. Jill feels really strong and supple, and Brief just gets better and better as he gets older: his rider (very often Jamie Trotter currently) has to sit tight at times - but then he wouldn't be Brief if he turned down every excuse to spook - but otherwise he is just a delight. My Obsession is continuing to progress satisfactorily towards his intended resumption eight days hence, and the other horses in the stable seem to be coming along well enough too. But, of course, it's early days yet, and there remains plenty of scope for things to go wrong as the year progresses.

Now, to go from the sublime to the ridiculous, I think I can shed a bit more light on exactly what Squeaker has been up to in Sweden. For this insight, I am indebted to 'The Week', to which Emma subscribes. According to this magazine, 'Criminal gangs in Sweden are believed to be stealing from travellers on long-distance coaches by hiding dwarfs, or possibly small children, in sports bags. Once inside the luggage compartment, the dwarfs emerge and rummage through other suitcases looking for cash and jewellery. They then zip themselves back in their own bags to await collection at the end of the trip. "We are looking at our records to identify criminals of limited stature", said a police spokesman'. Unfortunately we didn't spot this article until the weekend, by which time Squeak has already headed back to his adopted country, so we weren't able to quiz him about whether he is indeed involved in this scam. But I will - and I am sure I will then be greeted with the response, "Very fonny!".

To touch upon racing in general before I sign off, I'm pleased to see that the Nic Coward/Alastair Down debate is provoking a more general awareness of the debt which all involved with racing - and dependent industries - owe to the country's owners. Too often we have heard refutations of the fact that it is owners who subsidize the sport for everyone else - allowing everyone else to enjoy the show at far less than cost of production, and for the industries which feed off it to enrich their participants - so it has been very pleasing to see the likes of Bill Oppenheim join me in pointing out what should be the obvious. In other aspects of racing - ie the important ones, those which revolve around the horses rather than the politics - all roads lead to Cheltenham. I've marked down Blue Bajan, Numide (those first two are likely to be aimed at the same race) Sentry Duty (who I presume would go for the Sun Alliance Hurdle) and Thyne Again as horses to pay particular attention to if they show up there, and of course Carruthers will be the horse everyone is willing home. And, even though I have both Kauto Star and Denman in my Twelve To Follow, I really hope that Kicking King can stay injury-free and build on the immense promise of his resumption. He would add a huge amount of extra interest to the Gold Cup if he lines up in it.

Closer to home, we've seen three of our former inmates in action over the past week. Critical Stage ran yet another fine race for Jimmy Frost, who has done so well with him, when second in a claimer at Kempton, and it was good to see that Archirondel, who ran in a seller at Wolverhampton, is still on the go aged ten. Less motivated was Mattie Stokes, who ran woefully in the bumper at Towcester. He's now trained by Mark Wilkinson, who has resumed training near where Mattie's connections live. One's got to hope that the heavy ground was to blame - otherwise a race at Higham which took my fancy, a (divided) point-to-point for maidens EIGHT-YEARS-OLD AND UPWARDS, might be on his agenda - but he really didn't look enthusiastic as he eased himself back to a trot and then a walk inside the final two furlongs, despite his rider's urgeings. He always was a 'character', but it'll be a worry if he becomes more characterful rather than less so.