Did you have a good Christmas?

One of the perils of the post-Christmas period is the question "Did you have a good Christmas?".  There's nothing wrong with this question, I hasten to add, and it's nice that people care; but I just find it hard to answer.  The simple answer is that I did have a good Christmas, but that's because it was pretty much like most other days - which is grand as I tend to like my daily routine.  It did come with three big bonuses (presents, a mighty dinner in the evening which I did nothing to help prepare, and the Downton Abbey special festive edition, the first half of which I was able to stay awake to watch) but overall the abiding memory (for someone obsessed with the weather, anyway) was that it was bl**dy wet - as you can see from the view between Simayill's ears at around 8.15 yesterday morning, when the poor visibility and the rain were combining to make photographs unfocussed.

Happily, it didn't remain this stormy through the day, which was just as well as if I'd had to change my clothes after every lot, rather than just after the first one, I'd have had been running short of dry garments by the end of the morning.  I always enjoy riding out on Christmas Day because there aren't many horses out on the Heath, and there's always good banter between the few riders who are there - particularly when it's lashing with rain.  Later on it did become much less unpleasant - and we had a further bonus later in the morning as when I was out on Ollie (seen in the final paragraph, hanging out with Alcalde in the field at lunchtime today, just before the rains arrived) Emma had her first ride on Panto since his near-death experience five months ago, which was as good a Christmas present as she could ever receive.

Today, though, was much more pleasant, even if the morning's lovely conditions disappeared in the blink of an eye in the early afternoon, to be replaced by the rain which we had seen inching its way here on TV, via Leopardstown, Wincanton and Kempton.  Again today there weren't many horses on the Heath, but even so there were some good sights.  One of the best of these was when we passed Lucy Wadham's horses on the Severals. Ray McGhin, with whom I used to work in Luca's stable in the '80s, used to be a regular in Lucy's string, but he had a very bad fall on Long Hill last year - and then when he was eventually recovered he was injured on the loading ramp at Sandown.  I hadn't seen him on a horse for a long time - so it was lovely to see his ever-friendly face (which you can see in the middle of this group of three) on horseback today.

A few seconds afterwards there was a further brahma: another face which is rarely seen on horseback nowadays, that of Marco Botti (on left of shot).  Marco is an excellent rider, but it's rare for him to take to the saddle nowadays as he generally supervises on foot now that his string is so large.  However, presumably he didn't want to make any more lads ride out than necessary this morning, so he was one of the riders in his small string of (presumably) horses who will be running in the near future.  He coped well with my evident surprise and my greeting, "I hope he hasn't forgotten what to do!".

That first lot of the day took place in clement enough conditions, but once the sun was properly up above the horizon things were really lovely, as you can see here.  That ride and the following one were really spring-like - and there was a further bonus during that lot (as you can see in the following paragraph) when I passed our former inmate Batgirl (as she'd never previously have been seen, ie clipped right out) heading across the Fordham Road ahead of her stablemate Balti's Sister, who has become a prolific winner in recent months since Martin and Michelle Smith bought her out of Mick Easterby's stable.

Anyway, that's the Christmas that was - and, yes, I did have a good Christmas.  And, of course, an integral part of Christmas is the Boxing Day racing, the highlights of which from this perspective were William winning on lovely Monkerty Tunkerty in the Lord Stalbridge Cup at Wincanton and the much-maligned Sam Waley-Cohen sticking it up his ignorant critics with a great ride to win the King George on lovely Long Run. Hopefully Sam won't have to put up with undeserved criticism in the near future, which is good as at times one feels that he's been as undeservedly maligned as poor Clive Smith.

The latter is a man to whom I've struggled to warm since his revelation in the Racing Post that he took his horses away from Martin Pipe (one of my heroes; and anyone who takes his horse away from that stable is always going to be on a sticky wicket in my eyes) because 'the man has no style'.  But, even bearing that in mind, one has to feel sorry for poor Clive Smith, who I feel has been greatly ill-treated by the Racing Post, which strikes me as being so far up Paul Nicholls' a**e that it's going to take against anyone who finds himself incurring Nicholls' wrath, whatever the rights and wrongs of the matter.  I've been chuckling to myself while speculating how the Racing Post would handle things if Paul Nicholls announced that he'd joined the Nazi Party.  I feel that we'd read that this speaks well of Nicholls as it's good to see a trainer so politically aware; and that the Nazi Party has suffered a lot of undeserved bad press in the past, but actually has plenty to recommend it.  It might, we'd be told, on occasions have been guilty of pursuing its policies with excessive enthusiasm, but it does have plenty of good points, not least its ability to make the trains run on time, which of course is a big boon for punters.