Adland

Ethics Girl ran very well yesterday. The Sheikh Hamdan bin Mohammed-owned winner Exemplary won with a ton in hand as this picture of the finish shows - he was rated 80, but would have won the race off 90 - but she did everything right to finish an honourable second on an evening of low temperatures which made conditions (ie deep sand and horrible kick-back) a real test of a horse's resolution. That probably wasn't a bad thing as her resolution could never be faulted. She was assisted in her task yesterday by another faultless ride from Franny Norton, so all in all one couldn't come away anything other than pleased, satisfied and proud.

I hope that Hans Adielsson also went home happy. As you might have read, he was formerly champion trainer of (firstly) gallopers and (subsequently) trotters in Sweden before his recent retirement; and he has now been tempted out of retirement by Erik Penser to train near Lambourn. I would imagine that he will do very well because he is clearly a top horseman, and I was particularly pleased to find myself at the races on the occasion of his first British runner (the five-year-old maiden Beauchamp Xiara, a daughter of Erik Penser's Eclipse winner Compton Admiral who finished second behind an impressive Marco Botti-trained debutante Libritish, who is, as you might have guessed, by Librettist). Our Swedish friend Ida, who was formerly in Newmarket working for Sir Mark, has moved down to Lambourn to work for her compatriot and she led the mare up last night (pictured).

Let's hope that Alcalde can run as creditably tomorrow as Ethics Girl ran last night. He should perform with credit as he's a nice horse in an ordinary race (at Fakenham). Let's first, of course, hope that Fakenham does actually take place. There had been no reason at all to be concerned on that score as far as the forecasts had been concerned all week, but I now read that the meeting is in doubt. Mind you, Cheltenham was in serious doubt today and that's taking place, which is great as it thus provides the highlights of the afternoon's televiewing. Of course, I have to temper that observation by acknowledging that the highlights of any Channel Four racing show is not the racing, but those great Dubai ads which open and close each commercial break. (The Racing UK pundits would, I suspect, say that the Dubai ads "bookend" these breaks). ("In terms of adverts"). For years, when I watched Royal Ascot on TV, I used to watch the racing and go off to do something else when the fashion segments came on, whereas nowadays I'm very happy to miss the odd race just as long as I savour second of the James Sherwood brahmafest; similarly, with Channel Four racing nowadays I can usually take or leave the racing, but I'd be sick if I missed any of the Dubai ads, irrespective of how many times I've already seen them. My two favourites are, "How could Rajah dream that a forgotten purse would lead to a memorable meeting with his hero?" and "How could Rajah have guessed that his sense of hospitality would help him rescue a tourist in distress?".

I can't, of course, mention these ads without commenting on how pleased I was to spot our friend Richard Sims in an ad in the Racing Post last weekend. Richard, as some of you might know, is an eminent adman himself: he's been selling ads like a demon for years. It was nice, therefore, to find (part of) him appearing in a Racing Post ad in last Saturday's Racing Post (pictured in the previous paragraph). With Dickie's experience in adland, it was no surprise that he should have finally found himself appearing in an ad, but in truth it's never a surprise to see Dickie (or someone who looks very like him) anywhere. It's uncanny how many people do actually look like him, with Dougie Whyte, Vlad Duric (pictured on a Best Bets cover) and Aidan O'Brien (pictured taking a break from watching trackwork at Mornington a couple of years ago to stuff his face with a kilo of under-cooked Greek sausage) all bearing an uncanny similarity to the doyen of admen. So that's two of my hobbies covered in one chapter: keeping a look out for new Dubai ads and keeping my eyes open for Dickie-lookalikes. And that's even without mentioning the pleasure which I used to get at the tail-end of last year from the Scotch whisky ads in the Racing Post on a Saturday which featured Richard Gibson and (presumably) his head lad, plus one of their horses, looking as if they had just been caught red-handed holding up the post office at Jerilderie. They clearly didn't do Richard Gibson any harm because I know read that, on the back of that advertising campaign, he has been offered a job training at Sha Tin.

Mailman brahma

There's always a brahma and there duly was one when I took Hugh and Cape Roberto to the meet at Balsham Hall today. Or rather when I took them to Balsham. I didn't know Balsham, and don't really know it even now, despite having walked around quite a lot of it today. Although it's theoretically a village, it's a big place, and I saw plenty of it today. Although not the Hall. I'd been given instructions of how to find the Hall, which basically revolved around going into a cul-de-sac, which I thought would be straightforward enough - until I got to the village/town, and discovered that virtually every street bar the main street is a cul-de-sac. Fortunately, though, Hugh and I found some horses trotting past us, presumably heading towards the meet, so we pulled over and disembarked at that point. Even more fortunately, three more riders then appeared and kindly waited for Hugh to mount, so the four of them headed off round the corner to go to the meet. I followed on foot a few minutes later. But, once I'd got round the corner, could I find the meet? I could find neither sight nor sound of it, and thus wandered around the village/town lost for about half an hour. What I did find, though, was the village/town postman doing his rounds on his push-bike, which I thought would solve my problem: I assumed that if he knew one house in Balsham, he'd know the Hall - and I also assumed that he wouldn't know just one house, he'd know every house. Imagine my consternation, therefore, when he told me that he'd NEVER HEARD OF BALSHAM HALL. Unsurprisingly, I gave up my quest shortly after that, still shaking my head in bewilderment at this mailman brahma. (And this mailman wasn't, by the way, Jerry Seinfeld's mailman nemesis Nooman, just in case you're wondering). I did, though, bump into EBF supremo Sam Sheppard (pictured talking to Hugh at Monday's meet) in the street as I was driving out of town; he's one of the mainstays of the Thurlow Hunt and he reassured me that Hugh and Cape Roberto had indeed found their way to the meet and had headed off with the field for the first covert. And happily it transpired that another good day's hunting then ensued.

Let's now see what brahmas tomorrow will bring. Let's hope that they're all good ones, with Ethics Girl set to head off to Wolverhampton for another two-mile handicap. She seems still to be in perfect condition, physically and mentally, so let's hope for another good run.

Happy horses

The problem with having had the freeze-up so early in the winter is that, now that it's over, one feels as if spring ought to be here. Which, of course, it is not, notwithstanding the fact that the days are certainly getting less short. So I am afraid that we will have a few more weeks of cold, grey wet weather yet, and it'll be a while before we have anything under our feet other than mud. (Unless, of course, we get another freeze-up). I did have a slight change on Monday, though, as I saw a different type of mud: Hugh took Cape Roberto for his first day's hunting (pictured) with the Thurlow, and the evidence of the horse's legs by the time he'd finished is that the mud down in deeper Suffolk is very different to ours. A day's hunting is tiring enough for a horse (and rider) but in those conditions it must be even more tiring simply because of the weight of clay which the horse accumulates. Granted a potter's skills and the availability of a wheel, one could have fashioned the stuff which we scraped off the horse's legs at the end of the day into a fair-sized bowl, mug or vase. All told, though, the day can be described as a huge success: Cape Roberto behaved with commendable professionalism and calmness, acting throughout as though hunting was an everyday experience. He and Hugh both seemed to enjoy themselves very much, and it was lovely to see. What was also good to see was the former John Gosden-trained Taunt, a 17-year-old whose past form includes wins at Epsom and Ascot in 1997. Hunting seems to suit him down to the ground and he - like Cape Roberto, with whom he is pictured here at the meet - gave a splendid advertisement for the ability of racehorses to turn their hand to just about anything.

Similar professionalism and enthusiasm was shown this morning by Alcalde, who is set (fingers crossed and the eliminator permitting) to run at Fakenham on Sunday. Although we already know that Alcalde can jump well, it was good to see him schooling this morning and thus demonstrating that his unhappy experience at Plumpton 24 days ago (when he made a bad and uncharacteristic mistake mid-race, which seemed to frighten him and after which he didn't travel comfortably for the rest of the race) has done nothing to dent his confidence. As had been the case with Kadouchski on Saturday, Alcalde was ridden by Jack Quinlan and jumped firstly in front of, and then alongside, the less experienced Archie Rice, who again was ridden by Paul Moloney. All went very well, and happily Jack managed to avoid the fate which had befallen the last jockey whom I'd watched riding along in front of Paul. If you watched Paul win on the Charlie McBride-trained Extremely So at Leicester yesterday, you'll know what I mean: Robert Thornton was a few lengths in front of him on Invictus between the last two hurdles, seemingly set for victory, and fell off. It was a truly remarkable sight, but really it's something which is going to happen every now and then as a consequence of the modern fashion of jockeys riding with just their toes in the irons, rather than the full foot. Robert's late mentor David Nicholson would have been turning in his grave; I dread to think what his reaction would have been if a jockey had set out to ride for him over jumps with just the toe in the iron, irrespective of whether or not he fell off, but it seems to be considered normal nowadays. It certainly wasn't when I started out and consequently I still ride with my full foot in the stirrup, but I'm in the minority nowadays and even I've got to admit that those who do ride with just their toes in have got very good at doing so. 99.9% of the time.

New hoops

I think that I can say that we've added a new name to our roster of jockeys because I made the acquaintance of Jack Quinlan this morning, and my first impression was a very positive one. As you probably know, Jack is the nephew of Michael, who trains in Athnid Stables in Hamilton Road. Jack's father is Michael's younger brother Noel, who would be listed as co-trainer were there such a thing in the UK. If you know the Quinlans, you'll know that tallness is a family trait, which might be a worry for Jack in the future, but I'd say that that would be the only worry (leaving aside the jockeys' ever-present spectre of injury, of course) because he seems a top-class young horseman with a positive, helpful and professional attitude to match. A couple of weeks ago I'd told Tommy Keddy that he could use Kadouchski as a lead-horse any morning he liked for his current jumping learner, Archie Rice, the only proviso being that he'd need to provide the rider: I'd have the horse up at the Links any time he liked, but I'd expect to hand him over to another rider there as I'm too old to school these days. (I didn't add that these days began about twenty years ago!). Anyway, we met Tommy and Hayley at the Links at 7.30 this morning, where Paul Moloney (who seemed in quite a hurry with a busy morning leading into a busy day, so hence he can be excused for omitting to mention that he was going to ride a 40/1 winner at Ascot this afternoon) was on Archie Rice (in the hi-visibility sheet) and Jack Quinlan was waiting on the ground. After introducing myself, I legged him aboard and stood back to watch a very satisfactory schooling session. What was really nice was that, after Kadou had led the less experienced horse up the line of hurdles a couple of times and Paul had decreed that his mount had done enough for one day, Jack volunteered the opinion that Kadou would probably enjoy having another run up the line of jumps on his own, being allowed to bowl along at a faster (more-experienced-horse's) pace. Which he did - and you'd never see a horse coming home from the schooling ground as pleased with himself as Kadou did after that. It was lovely to see, as was Jack's positive and helpful attitude, as well as his polished riding. He was also kind enough to put Cape Roberto over some hurdles and fences, so all in all it was a very pleasing first lot. William, of course, remains our rider of choice irrespective of whoever else might be available, but the lesson I learned this morning is that I'll never be stuck for a good rider any time that Jack is available.

On the subject of meeting good riders, I was very pleased yesterday to make the acquaintance of a top-class jockey, bumping into Seamus Heffernan on the bottom of the Heath. I'd cantered Ex Con around Bury Hill all-weather and was walking back down the hill when a few of Jane Chapple-Hyam's horses appeared out of her back gate and headed away up the Bury Hill walking ground. Yarmy, who helps out a lot in that stable, materialized at the bottom of the hill to watch them, in the company it transpired of Seamus, who has been spending quite a bit of time in Britain this winter, riding some of the Irish-trained horses who have been sent over here as well as for a handful of UK-based trainers. He's had a few rides for Jane, including recently getting the enigmatic Big Bay to put in his best run for over a year, but even so it was impressive to see him taking the trouble to come out to watch some of the stable's young horses do their exercise. I was delighted when Yarmy called me over to make the introductions as Seamus is a jockey I greatly admire, not least because he is very proficient over jumps as well as on the Flat, which I always regard as a big plus in rider's favour - although paradoxically it often seems to count against them, as dual-purpose riders seem to struggle to break through in either code until they give up one and concentrate on the other, the careers in recent years of such as Ryan Moore, Ray Cochrane, Richard Hughes, Jim Crowley and PJ McDonald being illustrations of my point (as is, from the other angle, that of Paddy Aspell, who still rides under both codes but remains under-patronized in each, as has been Vince Slattery throughout his career). Things might have been different had T. P. Burns not broken his leg at Clonmel in May 1958. He was, of course, at the time Ireland's reigning champion jockey (the championship then being decided on total winners ridden, Flat and jumps) and Vincent O'Brien's jockey both on the Flat and over hurdles, having in the past 12 months ridden Ballymoss to be second in the Derby and first in both the Irish Derby and (English) St. Leger, Gladness in both the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe (unplaced) and Prix du Cadran (second) and having won two hurdle races for the stable at what we now call the Cheltenham Festival. When Burns was on the side-lines, O'Brien naturally had to look for other jockeys. Scobie Breasley picked up the ride on Ballymoss and Lester Piggott the ride on Gladness, and things were never the same again. It became the norm for Irish trainers to look for jockeys who had proven success at the top level outside Ireland, and for the mounts on top-class Flat horses to go to jockeys who didn't ride over jumps. These two biases both persist to this day, as is shown by the fact that Seamus (who actually rarely rides over jumps) probably isn't going to end up as stable jockey at Ballydoyle. But if the decision were mine, I'd stand by my initial reaction when the position became available last autumn: I'd promote him without a moment's hesitation.

That's enough of my twittering off at tangents, which brings me to mention that the phenomenon of Twitter has started to rear its ugly head in this house, Emma having signed up to it. I'm sure that I will remain resistant: I am only too aware that I struggle to include one worthwhile nugget in a dispatch of 12 paragraphs, so if I've only got 12 words to play with I'm sure that I'd be as inane as the next man. I do occasionally look at http://www.twitter.com/, simply to see what William (who tweets as WTKjockey) has been coming out with, but I'd have to say that he's considerably better at riding than twittering. However, it has been brought to my attention that Richard Fahey showed this week that brevity can help one to hit the nail on the head. The ongoing RFC/Champions' Day nonsense has been a bit quiet this past fortnight, and I haven't really added to the debate since using the Racing Post's letters page to put Nigel Payne right, following his seeming inability to understand why owners and trainers might see any drawbacks to Racing For Change's plan which will see 3 million pounds from the under-funded prize money pool being pumped into one card (Champions Day at Ascot), which obviously will leave roughly 2.5 million less for the remaining 1,500 or so meetings of the year than would be the case were the prize money for that day to be, say, half a million. Anyway, I thought that my letter made my concerns pretty clear - but for crystal-clear conciseness, I don't think that you can beat Richard Fahey's tweet of a couple of days ago: "First day of turf at Catterick this year on 30 March, 7 race card total prize 21800. Racing for change are putting 3 million in for 1 day??"

Brahma of the week, though, has to go to Luke Harvey, even though he was absent from his usual chair alongside Jason Weaver on one of the week's best TV programmes, 'Get In' on ATR on Friday evening. As you might know, Jason and Luke are liable to say just about anything, while many of their asides centre around the unpopularity of the other one. Robert Cooper was in Luke's place last night, and so the show was, as one would expect, up to its usual high standard. Jason repeatedly read out emails from viewers who, apparently, were writing in to say how pleased they were that Luke wasn't on the show, and asking (clearly hoping for an answer in the affirmative) whether he'd got the sack for good. But the highlight came when Luke (who was in the departure lounge at Heathrow with his partner Emily Jones, the pair of them waiting to board a flight to Cape Town, where they are having a holiday) phoned in. Jason, predictably, maintained the banter with such announcements as, "Well, Luke, things are running very smoothly here, and I just thought that I ought to tell you that we've made the last question this week on the 'either/or' section 'Robert or Luke' - and from the answers we've been getting I've got to break it to you that you're not as popular as you like to think you are". But the icing on the cake came from Luke. He told us that his one mistake in the run-up to the holiday had been, fearing ear-ache from flying at altitude in a pressurized aeroplane, to have his ears syringed: the drawback was that he could now hear Emily even more loud and clear than usual, and he was getting sick of her bellowing in his ear as the sound waves were hitting him much more forcefully than usual. Anyway, Robert consoled him with the observation that, "Don't worry, I'm sure that they'll wax up again soon", to which Luke, quick as a flash, came back with, "I hope she doesn't". Fortunately, I'd say that the vast majority of the viewers might have missed that one!

A night at the races

I'm not sure how we should say that the pendulum (definitely only one of them swinging there, so we don't have to worry about the plural) swung at Kempton on Wednesday because Ethics Girl ran awfully well but even so had nothing to show for it. Rab Havlin, as we've come to expect, rode her a treat, but through no fault of his own he found that one of his fellow jockeys failed to keep his mount straight; and Ethics Girl was consequently checked at the furlong pole when coming to challenge. She thus finished fifth, beaten about three lengths, but she wouldn't have been far away with a clear run. She's such a dear horse, ever so genuine; and, once again, I brought her home full of pride. Similarly proud, I expect, must have been James Evans, trainer of the winner Phoenix Flight. This horse had been second to her at Wolverhampton three weeks previously. He was 2lb better off this time (but even so still burdened by top weight of ten stone) and I think that we can thus say that the two horses ran almost to the ounce, meaning that he must be every bit as honest and reliable as she is. I can genuinely say that it was the case that, as we couldn't win, I was really pleased that he did.

One result which gave me less pleasure, though, was the demotion of Our Kes earlier in the evening. I wouldn't say for certain that Our Kes is the whitest horse in Newmarket, but I certainly can't think of one as white as she is, let alone one whiter. She's been gracing the Heath for years now, mostly under the care of Paul Howling but now in Jane Chapple-Hyam's string, since Paul's relinquishing of his license and his transfer of his charges and his staff to Jane's stable. You can pick Our Kes out a mile away. She's a 9-year-old mare by Revoque and is as honest as the day is long (even in summer when the days are long). She's won 10 of her 89 starts (some of which, bizarrely, have come in America, I have just discovered on checking her statistics, including an unplaced effort in the Grade Three La Troienne Stakes at Churchill Downs in 2005). She looked set to win her eleventh race on Wednesday evening: Jimmy Quinn brought her with a cool and seemingly well-timed run to put her nose, so it appeared, in front right on the line, only for firstly a dead-heat to be called (with the third a short-head away) and then secondly for her to be demoted to second. To rub further salt into the wound, the horse from whom she passed the post inseparable, Carter, who was racing under a 6lb penalty, has won by five lengths or so tonight, only two days later, at Wolverhampton under a 12-lb penalty. I'd have liked to have seen Our Kes have at least a share of victory, and thus complete a running double for Jane and Jimmy, who had won half an hour earlier with another Paul Howling evacuee, the redoubtable Gallantry (another 9-year-old, with career statistics of 95-11-11-4). I know that these aren't great horses, but in their own way they are true heroes and the absolute salt of the racing earth. I know that many people look down on middle-of-the-road handicappers running on the AW, but if you can't watch horses like these and be filled with admiration, then you don't deserve to be call yourself a racegoer. The horse whom Hannah rode, Woodsley House in the first race, is almost similarly seasoned, even if he is a comparatively lightly-raced 9-year-old, having run only 46 times. However, as he ran in a Group race as a two-year-old and as his travels took him to Hong Kong in 2006 (where he raced unsuccessfully for Makybe Diva's trainer David Hall as Avoidance Of Doubt and went amiss) it's a miracle that he's still in training; less surprising, though, that he seems out of love with racing and unlikely to bounce back to form in the immediate future. Still, he and Hannah got round safely together on Wednesday - as this final photograph taken after the race proves, with the horse being led by her father Richard - and no harm was done.

Off the mark

The up-and-down nature of success - or, put another way, the very slender division between success and failure - has often been discussed on this blog. 2010 ended well for this stable with our final runner of the year, Ethics Girl on December 29th, winning at Wolverhampton. I can't say that I'd then noticed any sign of the horses 'going off the boil', but it just so happened that our first three runners for 2011 (Alcalde, Kadouchski and Asterisk) all finished hopelessly tailed off. Happily, though, the pendulum has swung back again (the horses have 'come back to form'!) as good old Rhythm Stick got us off the mark for 2011 by winning at Wolverhampton yesterday, thus completing his own hat-trick of victories over course and distance. That was lovely, and all the more so because Louise Parry, his joint-breeder and co-owner, was there to see him running for the first time. Her brother Peter Steele-Mortimer, with whom she bred the horse and who also remains a part-owner, had seen him win on the previous occasion, as had his other part-owner Rebecca Hunter, so it's great that all involved have now visited the winner's enclosure with him. Franny Norton (pictured here before and then after the race), who generally rides very well when riding for this stable (or for any other stable, come to that), has a perfect record of three from three on Rhythm Stick. He judged things just right again yesterday, making sure that the horse's strengths (primarily stamina and genuineness) were sufficiently exploited. Although there were only six runners, it was a competitive race and the field were mostly in a pack throughout. It was very exciting. Rhythm Stick had made all the running on the previous occasion, but that was basically by default. This time he was fourth passing the stands for the first time (pictured) but once he got to the front in the straight, while he was never likely to win by far, he always looked likely to prevail. And so it proved: four of the six were within about a length of each other crossing the line, but he was the one at the front. Great!

Pendulums (pendula?) keep swinging, of course, it and might very well have already swung in the other direction by the time we get to Kempton tomorrow evening. However, Ethics Girl seems in good heart and I'm sure that she'll do her best, as usual, so we'll hope for the best. Competitive race, but. Before then, though, we'll have another competitor to cheer as Hannah has a ride for Mark Rimmer in the first race on the card. Let's hope that this horse can get the evening off to a good start. On the subject of promising apprentices, by the way, it's worth noting that one rode her first winner at Wolverhampton yesterday. I'd already left by the time that the last race was run, but when I read the results I was very pleased to see that Alice Haynes had ridden her first winner. She's in a good stable as she's apprenticed to David Simcock, who came up with the champion apprentice last season (Martin Lane) and also has Laura Pike, who is doing very well. Alice started in David's stable last spring, having come back from Sydney, where she had been working for former Newmarket trainer Mark Wallace at Warwick Farm, and had previously worked for Mark's mentor Mick Channon, so she's had a thorough grounding. I'd say she'll do her bit to help to continue to establish David's reputation as a good producer of apprentices. The other winner to note from Wolverhampton yesterday (apart from Rhythm Stick, of course!) might be Art History, who defied remarkable green-ness to win a maiden race. Mark Johnston's AW three-year-old maiden winners early in the year often go on to do well (several have won at Royal Ascot) and Art History (who has a lovely pedigree, being by Dalakhani from a Peintre Celebre half-sister to Grey Swallow) might be another to do so.

Toby Tobias B P

In the excellent documentary which RTE made a couple of years ago following two or three of Paul Nolan's string, including the mighty Joncol, through the season, there was a particularly memorable snippet when Paul Nolan's father was interviewed. He explained that he wasn't really a racing man previously and had only started to follow the sport since his sons have become involved, but that during that time he'd learned one thing: "If you can't handle disappointment, then you've no business being in the game". Those words are ever so true and today has been a mini-reminder, certainly as far as Hannah is concerned. The day dawned with her looking at having two rides for the stable this week, both seemingly with chances of winning. Sadly, the total was soon halved as Kadouchski didn't show his usual sparkle at exercise this morning, which means that, while I don't think that there's anything seriously amiss with him, it would be unwise to run him on Wednesday. Still, that left her with one ride - ie on Asterisk today - and she must have gone to Southwell thinking that she had some sort of chance of riding her first winner. Not so, I'm afraid, because, while Asterisk cantered to post nicely and got there, as this photograph shows, just behind the horse who did win the race (Magic Haze), she finished the race miles behind that horse and only a neck or so in front of the horse who finished last. Still, there are far worse things than a horse running safely but more slowly than one would have hoped. All live to fight another day, so we should be able to put today's disappointing run behind us. Especially as Hannah has just received the news that she has, deservedly, made it through to the interview stage for the David Nicholson Newcomer Award for the Godolphin Stable Staff of the Year Awards.

It wasn't an unpleasant outing to Southwell, although it would have been much worse had we been in a later race as torrential rain began to fall just as we drove away from the track (which was shortly before the last race was due to be run). Being caught out in that wouldn't have been much fun. As it was, the trip was jolly enough, even if I found myself slightly unsure of how to address a few long-standing acquaintances. You'll have seen that trainers are now listed in the Racing Post and the racecards by their christian names, rather than, as previously, by their initials. It seems that each trainer was asked by what name he would like to be known, although I wasn't as I was already down as John Berry, for the reason that when I began training there already was a J. Berry (ie Jack) which meant that I've been John from day one, so didn't need to be consulted. The amusing thing is seeing the trainers who have been listed by their correct, but never-used, names, presumably because they mistook the letter of request for junk mail. Hence my uncertainty as to how to address "Desmond" Donovan and "Ronald" Harris when I met them today. I'm sure they won't mind that I still called them Des and Ron respectively, just as I've always done. My real quandary, though, will come at Wolverhampton tomorrow when I see Toby Coles (pictured), who seemingly wishes henceforth to be known at Tobias B. P. I think that I'll probably take the easy way out and use the answer to the question, "Which horse finished fourth in the memorable and dramatic 1992 Cheltenham Gold Cup, the race in which his stablemate Golden Freeze was ridden as if the only instructions given to his jockey were seemingly to make life as difficult for Carvill's Hill as possible, even if it meant sacrificing whatever chance he himself had of winning the race?".

No excuse

I don't really have any excuse for not having blogged for six days. We haven't had any runners so I haven't had to go anywhere. We do have some coming up though, so the next few days will be hectic, hence my jotting a few words down now to ease my conscience. First port of call will be Southwell tomorrow (with Asterisk); then Rhythm Stick is set to run at Wolverhampton on Monday; and then Ethics Girl and Kadouchski are engaged at Kempton on Wednesday. They are the only horses in the stable ready to run at present, so it will be good (or bad) to be getting them all out in quick succession.

I ought just to do a bit of house-keeping, in the form of responding to some comments on previous chapters. Regarding Alan's query about whether my reaction to Ballabriggs' victory would have been the same had I trained him, the answer is that it would have been exactly the same: I would have been pleased but surprised that he kept the race, just as I was as an observer. My view would have been just the same, namely that I had wanted him to win the race but not in that fashion, ie not by causing unnecessary interference. Regarding the Cheltenham Gold Cup winners, the (non-existent) prize has, I think, to go to Matt Trounce for telling us that Denman and Kauto Star both won steeplechases at Newbury on the same day in February 2007, while Rory deserves a medal for telling us that Desert Orchid, Dawn Run and Wayward Lad all won on the same Kempton programme on Boxing Day in 1983, albeit that two of those wins came over hurdles.

Finally, of all the things which I've been doing this past week instead of blogging, one of the more enjoyable has been finishing Philip Kerr's latest Bernie Gunther novel, 'If the dead rise not'. It is really, really good. And it coincidentally provided quite a good companion to the excellent new 'Upstairs, downstairs' programmes which were on the BBC after Christmas: part of their plot, of course, centred around the temporary rise of Nazism in England in the 1930s (which, of course, failed to get a hold, thank God, here as it had done in the Germany which the fictional Gunther had inhabited). Let's hope that they make some more 'Upstairs, downstairs' sequels. I am sure that Alamshar and Natagora will keep practising (pictured) for the parts just in case they do.

Sunday morning shocks

I fell off this morning (Sunday). That's not setting a very good precedent for the year as we're only on 9th January. I think that I'd managed to get through 2008, 2009 and 2010 without coming off, but 2011's potential clean sheet has already been blotted. And the worst thing about it is that I came off one of the quietest horses in the yard, Rhythm Stick (pictured here looking completely unmoved by my traumatic experience, as he waits patiently to come in from the field this winter evening). I don't really know what he did because I was trotting along the side of the Heath, my thumb up my bum and my mind in neutral (figuratively speaking) and the next thing I knew my world turned upside down, I was lying on my back on the ground and he was cantering home. What I do know is that I shouldn't have come off, and if anyone else had fallen off like that I'd have been very scathing. Fortunately for me, though, the Heath was mid-Sunday-morning-empty and there was nobody there to see it - but of course the fact that the horse got home ten minutes before I did means that I couldn't just keep the incident to myself. I wouldn't have done anyway, but: whenever anyone else falls off I tell everyone, so I think it's only fair if I own up every time I do so myself.

I might have been excused falling off had I been reading today's Racing Post at the time. I would have fallen off my horse in surprise had I been on horseback at the time of discovering that in today's paper it is said of Martin Pipe, one of the most courteous men I've ever met, that, "There was very little style or manners about the man." Still, it would be a dull world if we all thought the same - a sentiment which came to my mind after I watched Ballabriggs win at Wincanton yesterday afternoon. I'd come in from outside to watch this race, the last at 4.05 (and aren't we heading towards spring that races can now be run after 4.00pm?), because I hoped to watch Ballabriggs, trained by my friend and former colleague/housemate Donald McCain, win and thus confirm himself a live Grand National hope. However, I didn't want to see him win like that. In a piece of dangerously reckless riding by his jockey which showed no concern whatsoever for the safety of the horses and riders around him, Ballabriggs jumped the last (ie the second last because the last was omitted as a result of the presence of a dead horse) with two horses inside him - and then his jockey decided that when they bypassed the last fence, he would be right on the inside, never mind that he already had two horses inside him who would thus be left with nowhere to go - or who would be forced off the course. This wasn't a case of preventing two horses going up his inside: the two horses were already there. I think that Ballabriggs would have won anyway, so the interference which he caused to the other two horses was pointless - but it was also considerable. As the Racing Post reports: "Ohio Gold ... was virtually level rounding the bypassed last when squeezed up and had no chance after ... Zakatal ... was still in there fighting when squeezed by the other pair. That ended his chance, but there will probably be other days for him". Even though the Racing UK presenters didn't think that too much amiss had taken place, I thought that Ballabriggs was a certainty to be disqualified and placed last. Interference had taken place. The interference was both dangerous and deliberate. Doesn't that mean automatic disqualification, or have the rules changed since I last read them? As it was, there wasn't even a stewards' enquiry (unless there was one and neither Racing UK nor the Racing Post has reported it) so, while the interference and what should have been its sequel seemed crystal-clear to me, it apparently was equally clear to the stewards that nothing had even happened. And the Racing UK presenters had noted that something had happened but didn't seem to think that it mattered. See what I mean? Never mind the dullness, it would certainly be a different world if we all thought the same.

In memoriam

The first week of the year should be a time of looking forward, but sadly this parish has had a few deaths recently which oblige us to look back. Most notably, the new year has seen the death of Bridget Rickaby, widow of the former jockey Bill. Bridget's passing really does mark the end of an era because she embodied so much of Newmarket's racing history. She was a lovely lady whom it was my pleasure and privilege to know, and I fondly recall having the honour of lunching in her house on a few occasions, most notably on birthdays of her brother-in-law Fred, who sadly passed away early last year. The most obvious thing about Bridget was her love for Bill, and time spent in her house at the top of town - readily identifiable by a beautiful old gypsy caravan standing in the garden, which apparently Bill had tracked down and bought after spotting it on his way home from Yarmouth one day - was full of reminders of the happy and magical life which she had spent with him. Happily, the story of their lives lives on in their memoirs, Bill having written his at the time of his retirement from race-riding in the late '60s and Bridget having written hers after Bill's death a couple of decades later. Bridget's family history, of which she was rightly extremely proud, is pretty much the history of Newmarket over the last century or two: leaving aside her relatives by marriage, the Rickabys and Piggotts, she was born a Jarvis (her late brother Ryan trained in Phantom House, where her nephew William trains now) while her two grandmothers were also from great racing families (Butters and Godding). The last time I saw Bridget was at her daughter Melanie's house after Fred's funeral last February and she was clearly ageing then. I just hope that her last year has been a peaceful one - and that she and Bill are now re-united in Heaven.

New Year has also seen the death another popular Newmarket character, Gordon Welsh. Gordon worked for Sir Mark Prescott for years, although I think that he served his apprenticeship with Bridget's uncle, Sir Jack Jarvis. He wasn't from round here - he was a Geordie - but he spent his entire adult life in Newmarket and he really was part of the town's furniture. Gordon was a very successful apprentice 40 or so years ago, but sadly whatever longer-term potential he had to forge a long-term career as a jockey went unfulfilled. His biggest victory in the saddle came in the John Smith's Magnet Cup at York in 1970 on Lord Rosebery's Timon, carrying 7 stone 4lb and trained by Doug Smith, who had taken over Lord Rosebery's string on the death of Jack Jarvis 18 months previously and to whom I presume Gordon was thus apprenticed at the time. A very nice post-script to this victory came 27 years later when Gordon looked after the winner of the same race, the Sir Mark-trained and Graham Rock-owned Pasternak; and Gordon was rightly very proud of having visited the winner's enclosure after this famous race in two separate roles. Sadly, by this time Gordon was already becoming increasing more frail and less able to work. Sir Mark kept him on for quite a long time after he had ceased to be of much help, reasoning that if he didn't keep Gordon under his wing nobody else would - but of course eventually even he had to admit that Gordon couldn't remain in his employment forever. Gordon spent his final years living in Racing Welfare accomodation and, sad though it is to relate, drinking himself to death; but he did so with a permanent smile on his face, a kind word for everyone he met and without any enemy in the world. As is the case with Bridget, a very popular and special member of the community has been lost with Gordon's passing.

The lead-up to Christmas saw the death of another great racing identity: Roy Crowther. If you ever saw much of Dave Morris at the races over the past decade or more, you'd have seen Roy because, until last year when his health began to deteriorate, Roy in retirement would always go racing with Dave. Roy is probably best remembered as Jeremy Hindley's travelling head lad; and after Jeremy retired from training in 1987 Roy spent the remainder of his working life as one of the people dope-testing the horses at the races. His son Neil was a successful apprentice with Jeremy Hindley (and then I think I recall Neil going up north to ride for Steve Norton for a while). Roy was very much one of the old school in the best possible sense of the word, and he too leaves this town the poorer for his absence.

Lastly, I, like all racing fans in this country, very much hope that lovely Monet's Garden won't be joining the ranks of the departed in the near future. His foot problems really sound very bad and it might well be the case that he can't pull through - but if communal wishful thinking counted for anything, he'd already be out of the woods. It's hard enough to believe that the youthful 12-year-old who was charging around the Heath early last year, when he and some of his stable companions took up temporary residence in Abington Place Stables to escape the Cumbrian freeze-up, should so soon afterwards be on death's door - never mind that this has struck him down so soon after he posted his magnificent win at Aintree on 23rd October. One never knows what's around the corner.

Christmas quizzes

I'd been planning to complete the Racing Post Christmas Quiz, but sadly I got bogged down on Question 29 (of 50). This one, you might recall, asked which Classic-winning racehorse owner had recently recalled that his life had been one of "drugs, sex and rock 'n' roll". The quiz being multiple choice, we were given a choice of four answers, the obvious one of which was Crysalis Records supremo Chris Wright. However, I'm pretty sure that the correct answer might be (d) Lord Derby. (By which, I presume, they mean Ouija Board's owner, rather than Hyperion's owner - the latter, of course, would have had to make this revelation via a medium. And to widespread astonishment.). Anyway, I spent so long mulling over this puzzle that I ran out of steam, and failed to finish the quiz. But it has got me thinking whether we ought not, in the light of this statement, to re-consider our opposition to Lord Derby's plans to develop Hatchfield Farm: while these plans are clearly contrary to the interests of Newmarket as a training centre, I feel that one ought so to admire a man who is so candid about having mis-spent his life so splendidly that one oughtn't to stand in his way over anything.

Instead of completing a quiz, therefore, I'm going to set one. You might enjoy puzzling over this. I've been puzzling over it and I don't know what the right answer is, whether there is a right answer and, if there is a right answer, how many right answers there are. When I went to Folkestone about ten days before Christmas, I enjoyed reading the 'This day in ...' snippet in the Racing Post because that day in 1985 had seen a Saturday race-meeting at Ascot at which Desert Orchid had won the novices' chase and Burrough Hill Lad had won the big race, the SGB Handicap Chase. That paragraph was a nice trip down memory lane for me because what, understandably, wasn't mentioned was that the final race on that programme, an amateurs' handicap hurdle, was the first in which I rode (unsuccessfully). Anyway, recalling this race-day got me thinking that that would have been a very rare instance of two Cheltenham Gold Cup winners (past, present or future) winning different steeplechases on the same programme. So, my question is this: is that the most recent occasion on which that has happened? I don't know, but it's fun to think about it. On the vast majority of occasions when two Cheltenham Gold Cup winners run on the same card, they run in the same race - which is no use to answering our question. Hugh pointed out that one of the most likely occasions for this to happen would be Kempton's Boxing Day programme, with the King George and the Feltham Novices' Chase both being races quite often won by Gold Cup winners. However, has this happened since 1985? I don't know. My thought was that Gold Cup Day is another occasion on which it could happen, because once in a blue moon the Gold Cup is won by a former hunter 'chaser, who might well have won the Cheltenham Foxhunters on a previous Gold Cup Day. I did look up to see whether Cool Dawn had completed the double, but he only finished second in his Foxhunters. So that's the question and I'll leave it with you.

Thank God for Tri-Zone

Sunday saw me spending quite a long time behind the wheel because I went to Plumpton via Folkestone and then came home from Plumpton via Folkestone. If that sounds insane it probably was, but there was method in the madness as Alcalde (seen walking very perkily around the parade ring in eager anticipation of the forthcoming action) ran in the first race at Plumpton and Kadouchski (seen walking in, very tired, after the race as dusk falls on a truly midwinterly heavy racetrack) ran in the last race at Folkestone. Still, the 380 or so miles which I drove could have been worse: at least it was a Sunday during a Bank Holiday weekend in the depths of winter, so there wasn't too much traffic on the road, even if I did spend much of the Folkestone-Plumpton leg contemplating the fact that the caricature of the Sunday morning driver is indeed based on fact. The travelling wasn't really worthwhile as neither horse ran particularly well, but that's par for the course: one knows from the outset that at least half the times one goes to the races one will find oneself coming home with an unplaced runner, so when one comes home with a horse who has run unsuccessfully but safely it certainly hasn't been a bad day. That's what happened in both cases, even if Alcalde had a nasty scare at the fourth hurdle and poor Kadouchski (and I) both found cause to reflect that running a little horse with a massive weight (11 stone 11lb) on his back in bottomless ground, even against ordinary opposition, really is asking rather too much.

However, Alcalde's experience, although he has come home safe and only slightly damaged, was one to make one reflect that 'there but for the grace of God goes our horse'. Alcalde, who had always schooled really well and who put in a faultless round of jumping on his hurdles' debut, did something at the fourth hurdle which he had to do sooner or later: he made his first jumping mistake. He met the hurdle wrong, stood off too far and landed on it, cleverly managing not to fall but landing in what one might describe as a heap. Nineteen times out of twenty when a horse lands in a heap, he merely does that and no harm is done - but once in a while the result is that the horse's back hoof slams into the back of the front leg, which is still in the ground as the horse is getting himself in a muddle - and the consequences of this can be fatal. A severed tendon in itself isn't fatal, but it is an irreparable injury, and it is a sad fact of life that a horse whose main tendon has been severed and will never heal is one who has no life whatsoever to look forward to. Alcalde's back foot slammed into the back of his off-fore tendon as he landed over the fourth flight on Sunday - but thank God he was wearing a pair of the best boots that have ever been made, ie Tri-Zone's most up-to-date boots which have a lightweight titanium strip down the back. This strip is pretty much uncuttable and that has saved our horse from what would very likely have been at best a career-ending injury. Traditional boots have disappointingly little effect in preventing a severed tendon - the hoof can cut through the boot as easily as it can cut through the leg - so many trainers don't even use any boots on their jumpers, while the majority of those who do, use boots which really don't offer much protection at all. But I've spent the past couple of days thanking God that we use Tri-Zone boots: I genuinely believe that this boot (seen above, showing that the rubber has been sliced open but with the titanium strip undamaged inside) has at the very least saved Alcalde's racing career, and I would urge anyone reading this who has jumping horses to use this boot on their horses any time their animals are jumping. Of course, 999 times out of 1,000 that the horse jumps it will make no difference at all: but one time out of a thousand it could save your horse's life. So the sun set on Sunday evening with Kadouchski slogging his way around the mud of Folkestone (pictured) and Alcalde safely on his way home - but it could have been very and tragically different but for Trizone.

Another year gone

Thank you Ian, Nathan and Alan for those replies to the last few chapters. Just while I remember, I think that Paul Doe is on the side-lines with an on-going back problem. Let's hope that 2011 sees him able to sort that out, and that the many other jockeys currently on the side-lines can regain full fitness. As regards my own hopes for the next year, I think that they're pretty much the same as everyone else's: staying alive, staying healthy and uninjured. Let's hope that we can all do that. Mark Tompkins and I saluted each other with New Year good wishes as we passed each other in Rayes Lane this morning, and he asked me if I had any particular hopes for the New Year - but he then took the words out of my mouth with the one word which was clearly uppermost in both our minds: "Survival!". Anything else truly is a bonus, whoever you are. To be more specific, obviously I have aspirations for each and every horse in the stable on behalf of everyone concerned with them, in particular so that the faith which their owners have shown in us won't go unrewarded. Some of my dreams will prove to be unrealistic, but let's hope that some can prove warranted - and if one or two could be proved to have been insufficiently optimistic, then that would be the icing on the cake. Two winners tomorrow would be nice (but, admittedly, unlikely)! Taking a slightly longer-term view (ie looking beyond January 2nd), three hopes I'd have for 2011 would be that Hannah can ride at least one winner, Iva can firstly regain soundness (which, I'm afraid, is still a distant goal because her badly broken leg, while able to bear her full weight, is taking a worryingly long time to regain its former suppleness) and then ride us a winner, and - while I'm loth to give voice to any specific hopes I hold for any of the horses here - that Cape Roberto can win a point-to-point.

Looking at the broader racing world, rather than at just our little corner of it, I suppose that if there was one particular result I'd like to see it would be Time For Rupert and William (pictured on Kadouchski up on the Links a couple of days before Christmas) winning the Sun Alliance Chase at the Festival. William so deserves the one high-profile victory that seems to be required for his merit to be appreciated by the wider racing world, and this lovely horse might well be the one to provide it. (Of course, a Festival win for him on one of these horses would be even better, but that might be asking for too much). As regards Flat racing, a fourth Breeders' Cup Mile for Goldikova would be a truly magical moment, while a Triple Crown for Frankel would be even more special for many reasons. It would be a special moment indeed if Frankel were to follow up a 2,000 Guineas victory by winning the Derby - and in the aftermath of that triumph, Prince Khalid Abdullah and Henry Cecil were to answer the press' inevitable queries about future plans with the announcement that his principal targets would, naturally, be the 2011 St Leger and the 2012 Ascot Gold Cup. Wouldn't that be a magnificent step back in time!

The start of the New Year, of course, follows the end of the old one, and the final day of 2010 should not go unremarked. From this perspective, several results on Old Year's Day stood out, not least the win in the last race at Lingfield of the Exceed And Excel filly Estonia, who is owned and trained by Michael Squance (pictured here supervising one of his charges in the freezing fog last month) and who has now won her last two races. Our neighbour Willie Musson had had a winner earlier in the card when the lovely Mongoose Alert won as easily as one would have expected on his very surprising descent into selling company. I note that the horse was bought by Jim Best in the subsequent auction for 9,800 gns, which on the face of it wasn't a huge sum, although the fact that he was set to turn nine a few hours later obviously held down his value to a significant degree. Two National Hunt winners for Neil King (one at Warwick and one, ridden by the admirably resilient Mark Bradburne, at Uttoxeter) helped to make it a good day for Newmarket stables - and no doubt helped Neil's string to start the New Year freshly. Pulling out at the usual time this morning, I'd expected that we'd have the Heath to ourselves, but I did see (or, rather, discern, as visibility wasn't very good) Neil's string arriving on the Severals as we left them, and then two of Henry Cecil's horses leaving Warren Place when I got to the top of Long Hill. But arguably the happiest result of all yesterday came at Warwick when Don Cantillon's home-bred mare Alpine Breeze finally got to her feet after a very heavy fall at the last hurdle: it would have made a horrible end to the year had she failed to do so. I saw her in her stable across the road this morning and she looked fine, while Don (pictured back in September when the weather was still nice) told me that the sight of her getting up was made even more special by the massive cheering which it evinced from Warwick's sporting crowd. He had clearly found that response very moving indeed.

Most moving moment of yesterday for me, though, was Graham Goode's final call (of the Graham Goode's Commentating Swansong Maiden Open National Hunt Flat Race). I know that for an older generation Sir Peter O'Sullivan is the voice of racing, but for me Graham Goode holds that honour, having been the Channel Four commentator throughout the pre-Racing Channel/ATR/RUK era when Channel Four was the only station on which one could see most of the big races at home. My admiration for Graham stems not only from associating his voice with the majority of the good races which I've watched, but also from finding him an extremely nice man. His final call, therefore, was one which I wasn't going to miss and it was no surprise to find that he made it a bit special. His way of doing this was to recite during the race a poem which he'd written in the vein of Abba's 'Thank You for the Music', a valediction which showed his appreciation for all those who have put on the shows which he's been calling for so long. I think that it is worth reproducing here:

"Thank you to all the groundstaff and the caterers and the TV engineers and the box drivers and the stable staff and the stipes and the officials and the racecourse owners. And to the trainers - the peddlers of dreams and the workers of schemes and the worriers, thank you. To all the breeders searching for that elusive mating, thank you. To all the jockeys for keeping brave, thank you. To the owners who keep paying, for the bookmakers that keep laying and the punters that keep praying, thank you. But most especially, of course, thank you to the horses."

And as for the end of the race? "That's all, folks!" kept things simple, manageable and sweet. While that, sadly, is all from GG the commentator, fingers crossed we'll keep seeing him regularly on the racecourses, most often I presume at Nottingham. The sport wouldn't be the same without him.