Like a mountie

Like a Canadian mountie, I always get my man - as this photograph which I took yesterday of Kevin Peckham on the bottom of Long Hill shows. This opening gambit might bemuse you - but a glance at any one of several previous chapters will reveal that I have spent much of the previous three months frustrated by my inability to immortalise Kevin on memory card. So there he is: keeping eye (as you might be able to spot from this photograph, it was literally an eye, because his right eye is obscured by an eye patch) on William Haggas' string. Kevin isn't, though, the only subject I've been stalking, because I've been taking every opportunity to photograph Nicky Richards' lovely horses while they are in town. I was thinking that today might be their last day as they had been due to return home tomorrow, so even though they were a long way from me in gloomy visibility this morning I couldn't resist the temptation to take this indistinct supposedly final snap of Monet's Garden leading one of his stablemates up Long Hill all-weather. The good news (for the horse's Newmarket-based fan club, anyway) is that he's here for a few more days as the deteriorating weather forecast has made Nicky wary of taking the horses home in case Greystoke should become snow- and ice-bound again shortly after their arrival. So their departure has been put back until Saturday, by which time it should be clearer whether the weather is or isn't going to close in again. Which I'm sure won't be hugely to the horses' disappointment because, while there's no place like home (especially when home is a lovely place like Greystoke), they seem to be rather enjoying their little holiday. We went around to see them this afternoon to bid them, as we thought, farewell, and found a very happy bunch of heads sticking over the doors, as the expressions on Monet's Garden (above) and Money Trix (below) showed. And what was particularly nice was that they both had the tell-tale traces of mud on the sides of their faces: Joey Richards told us that all the horses had enjoyed a good roll this morning in the same paddock where Takeover Target used to play; and one can understand why too, because the day, for once, turned out rather springlike, notwithstanding the winter temperatures. But it's remarkable how one becomes accustomed to colder weather: by late afternoon the clear gold-and-pink sky told us that we were plainly due for a frost, and ice duly formed on the puddles pretty much as soon as the sun went down, but it still all seemed rather pleasant and very bearable.

Nicky and his staff have made many admirers while they have been here by their friendliness, and this was never better illustrated than when Emma and our friend Carolyn Anderson paid them an out-of-the-blue visit on Saturday morning. Carolyn's father Bill died just over a year ago and Monet's Garden was pretty much his favourite horse in the last couple of years of his life; so meeting the opportunity to say G'day to the horse was naturally quite a special event for Carolyn. Anyway, Nicky couldn't have been nicer and it couldn't have worked out better - and the fact that one of the string (Premier Sagas) won at Market Rasen the following afternoon was one of those occasions which makes one think that, despite so much evidence to the contrary, there might be a God after all.

Mention of Bill brings to mind another of our departed friends who has been on my mind recently. The late Joe McCarthy did me many, many favours in the decade I knew him. One of these was introducing me to the novels of Michael Connolly. Joe was a keen reader who often passed novels on to me after he had finished with them, and 'Blood Work' was one such. It is a great book and, never having even heard of Michael Connolly before receiving it, I found myself hooked. I've read just about all of his work now (the only omission being 'Scarecrow' and that will be rectified shortly) and last weekend I finished 'Nine Dragons' which was published last year. I really enjoyed that - and in enjoying so I once again had cause to remember Joe's friendship with gratitude.

On which subject, I should just make up for a previous oversight and salute the recently-deceased Barry Court. I didn't even know his name until I read his obituary in the Racing Post because I had only ever known him as 'Judge'. Judge was a very nice man indeed. For years one would almost invariably see him at Lingfield, and often at other south-country meetings too, and I both enjoyed his company and valued his opinions. He was a (former) golf caddy (I didn't realise until I read his obituary that he had caddied for Justin Rose when he nearly won the Open) who was a very good judge of horses as well as, presumably, of golf and he would always be beside the parade ring inspecting the horses before each race. The last time I saw him must have been a couple of years ago and he was neither looking or moving at all well. When I expressed my concern he told me of this illness - and many times since then I had wondered about his health. On a couple of occasions last year I remarked to Emma that I must ask around about him when I next went to Lingfield - but sadly, but not unsurprisingly, the Racing Post eventually gave me the answer which I did not want to hear. One of the joys of racing is that one meets some very nice people along the way, and I will always remember the Judge as falling firmly into this category.

On a happier note and reverting to books, I have also recently read Bart Cummings' recently written autobiography. It is a very interesting and entertaining book indeed, and I thoroughly recommend it. As I do a book which I read towards the end of last year: Peter Temple's latest novel, 'Truth'. This was only published in the UK on January 8th, but I was lucky enough to steal a march on my compatriots by reading it towards the end of last year, the book having been published in Australia several months ago. Peter's book 'The Broken Shore' justifiably won several prizes because it is excellent; this book could be regarded as some sort of sequel as the main character had been played a peripheral role in 'The Broken Shore', and all I can say is that if you enjoyed 'The Broken Shore' (which you will have done if you have read it), you will enjoy 'Truth' even more: it is the best novel I have read for quite a long time.

Looking ahead, we have She Is A Cracker running at Huntingdon tomorrow (frost permitting - and I would be amazed if the course does not pass its 8am inspection). She only arrived here on 23rd December and this will be her first run for us, so it will be interesting to see how she goes. She is a nice mare and a superb jumper, which reflects no credit whatsoever on me but huge credit on her previous trainer, Emma Lavelle. I've been riding her quite a bit but, with Anthony here at the weekend, I was very happy only to ride one horse on Saturday morning and to have a couple of lots out on the Heath as an observer - and she looked to do her work with Adam (pictured, walking back down a very murky Warren Hill ahead of Hannah on Jenny) very nicely. It was, as usual, good to go out on foot and I enjoyed seeing the other strings too, including Dave Morris' string (pictured alongside Sir Mark Prescott's indoor ride at the bottom of Long Hill) in which Dave's son Paul, who works for Geoff Oldroyd in Malton but who seemed to be home for the weekend, gave the usual riders (ie Dave and John 'Jinks' Harkness) a helping hand. Another trainer's son whom I was pleased to see recently was Vincent Coogan, son of Scobie Coogan. As Scobie trains a few miles away just outside Soham, his very few horses do not use the Heath very often, but it is always very nice to see them when they do. I last saw Scobie a day or two after the freeze-up had ended when he was riding on Southfields at the end of a long morning, looking as fed up with the terrible weather (it was a very cold, dark and wet day) as I felt. Anyway, I was then delighted a couple of days later to see that his stable star Matsunosuke had won a big sprint at Lingfield. Scobie has done ever so well with this lovely horse whom he bred and owns, and that was a particularly well deserved victory for a trainer who is as industrious as he is friendly. I think that Scobie was on Matsunosuke then and I think that Vincent was on him today (pictured at the top of Long Hill) and I salute them both for their success.