From Kieren to Kevin

Stupidly I forgot to tape the Kieren Fallon documentary on the BBC on Monday night. There was never going to be any chance of my watching it as it went out - a programme which ENDS at 11.30 is off limits, never mind one which starts at that time - but I should have taped it. But, as so often happens, when bedtime arrived my brain was so non-functional that remembering to set the video would have been a bridge too far. I'd like to have watched the programme, even if I suspect that it would probably have been a bit disappointing, but it would have been interesting to see what was in it other than Kieren's apparent claim that if you take drugs in Newmarket it's not your fault because, more so than anywhere else, this is a place where everyone else is doing it (as the Racing Post has reported to us in great detail). It would have taken about twenty seconds for him to say that, so it would have been interesting to see what the remaining 59 minutes and 40 seconds had contained.

Why I was even more ga-ga by bedtime on Monday night than on any other night was because I'd had political overload that day. We'd had the anti-Hatchfield Farm rally at Tattersalls at noon, where I'd been in charge of two canine billboards. It seemed to go quite well with enough people there for it not to look too small-time, but whether it will have done anything to persuade either FHDC or Lord Derby that turning Hatchfield Farm into a large suburb is not a good thing remains to be seen. However, all one can do is try. Then in the evening I'd represented the Newmarket Trainers' Federation, Tattersalls and Jockey Club Estates at a meeting in Palace House which I suppose we ought to call a "workshop", because it was that kind of thing. The aim of the gathering was to make parking problems in Newmarket a thing of the past. This aim is laudibly utopian, although if one was of a cynical disposition one would say that the aim was that, in the future, when the problems remain unsolved, the council can say, "It's not our fault because we sought expert professional advice and then 'engaged with the community' to ensure that the plans met with your approval, so we haven't foisted anything on you: we've merely put into place the independently and expertly drawn-up plans to which you yourselves have given approval". But I'm not of a cynical disposition so I won't say that - I'm more a Billy Mumphrey. (Billy Mumphrey, of course, as all students of Pendant Publishing know, being a simple country boy, a cock-eyed optimist who found himself caught up in a high-stakes game of international diplomacy and political intrigue and whose ultimate downfall was merely the consequence of his own unbridled enthusiasm - yes, that's me). Anyway, I had the best part of three hours of being engaged with, and feeling that I was on the set of 'Blue Peter' as the 'consultants' (ie a pleasant South African called Atholl and his two apprentices) took us through some fun and games. No wonder I forgot to set the video after that!

One other thing which I forgot was to take my camera to the rally. I should have done because there was at least one brahma and consequent missed photo-opportunity. Various people carried placards saying "... says No". Luca was there, looking very English in a tweed overcoat of the type favoured by bloodstock agents, carrying a placard proclaiming "Wops say No", which was good enough - but when he chanced upon his compatriot Marco Botti, the Hamilton Road trainer, he forced this upon Marco, who looked as discomfitted by this declaration as Luca did amused. I think Emma has a photograph of the pair joined in protest, and it's worth seeing. But the main photo-opportunity which I missed was of Kevin Peckham. I've been stalking Kevin for a couple of months now, so it's just as well that he's a man because I'd have been locked up by now were he a woman. This came about purely by chance. Shortly after I'd made the acquaintance of Arthur Pitt during the October Sale, I'd happened to find myself with a 1982 Horses In Training in my hand, so I'd looked in it to see what Arthur had had in training in that year, finding that his string had included the durable handicap hurdler Freight Forwarder and the Classic colt Rocamadour (another recently recycled name). Anyway, it's a fact of life that one can't open an old Horses In Training and read only one page, so I flicked through it and, naturally, my eye was caught by the entry for Liam Browne. As umpteen good jockeys served their career with him (eg Mick Kinane, Tommy Carmody, Stephen Craine, Derek Byrne, Martin Browne ...) I thought that I'd see who'd been apprenticed to him in 1982 - and I was astounded to see that his amateur that year had been Mr K. Peckham. Kevin Peckham is one of William Haggas' assistants and, while it seemed unlikely that he'd have been Liam Browne's amateur in 1982 (simply on the grounds of Kevin's patent Englishness), it seemed even more unlikely that, if the amateur was called Mr K. Peckham, it would have been anyone else, particulary as Kevin would be the right age. So I asked Kevin when next I saw him on the Heath if it had been him, which of course it was - and I extracted from him the information that he'd ridden one winner on the Flat and one over hurdles during his three years there - which struck me as a perfect snippet for a blog posting some day. So I resolved to take a photograph of him to illustrate the chapter whenever it finally came out. Anyway, to cut a long story slightly less long, I was jinxed: any time I'd have my camera I wouldn't see Kevin and anytime I saw Kevin I wouldn't have my camera. Finally the stars aligned - and Kadouchski jumped up and down at the moment of the shutter being pressed, so the resultant and long-awaited photograph was barely usable. This has been going on for weeks - and finally I had the perfect opportunity to photograph Kevin at the rally. But of course I didn't have my camera. Anyway, there he is at the top of the chapter (although you'll have to take my word that it is he, because it could be anyone).

The opportunities for photography during first lot at present aren't great because we're heading towards the shortest day - although really, as we're within a week of that, I don't think that visibility has been too bad. I remember other years when there have been some days around now when one could hardly see a thing, but Gemma and I were just saying this morning that it was a pleasant surprise how much we could see, and that's even with our tacking-up time being 6.45, whereas in previous year's it would have been 7.00. There was a day last week when I could see very little but that was more because of fog than darkness - and anyway once I had the brain to wipe my glasses halfway round the canter, visibility suddenly went up from under 20m to the best part of 50m, which was a real luxury. We've had an easy autumn but we seem to be properly into winter now, with today's foul conditions (the hard frost with a few snow flakes early was easy, but when the temperature snuck above freezing to leave us with a daytime high of 2 degrees and rain it really wasn't funny) making one think that it might actually be a long winter after all. We'll see.