The Twilight Zone

We might as well look inwards, rather than outwards, for once.  (And I am aware that regular readers of this blog might feel that introspection is the norm, rather than the exception).  But we'll look either inwards or even more inwards (delete as applicable) and just run through the state of play of this string.  We're always very quiet in the final couple of months of the year.  Every horse that we had running during the proper season is either resting or just in slow work at present, but they'll (mostly) be back in training in January to start preparing for next season.  It's usual for us to have few runners in the winter, and this winter is no exception.

The only two horses we have near racing at present are Freediver (with Ivona yesterday in the sixth photograph) and Amenta, neither of whom we were racing over the summer.  (Amenta did have two runs, but Roger Charlton trained her then).  They have each had one run this winter, and I hope that they will each run again later this month.  Freediver is likely to run at Wolverhampton on Friday night (not evening - but we'll come to this oddity anon).  Then Amenta is pencilled in to run at Lingfield on the Saturday between Christmas and New Year, ie 30th December.  I'm looking forward to running both fillies.

There are then three unraced horses who are inching their way back into strong work and who I hope might make their debuts at some point in the first couple of months of 2018: Irene Wilde (three-year-old filly by Silver Frost, with Ivona one day last week in the third photograph and with Nicola on Sunday in the fourth and fifth photograph), Das Kapital (two-year-old gelding by Cityscape, with Jana in the second photograph) and Sweet Charisma (two-year-old filly by Motivator, with Jana in the first photograph).  All three would have run during the turf season if feasible, but none of them turned out to be ready in time.  But I hope that we'll start to make up for lost time during the second half of the winter.  All three are nice horses.  Das Kapital and Sweet Charisma comprise 100% of our allocation of two-year-olds of 2017, so once again I will have failed to run a two-year-old during the year.  That seems to happen quite often - and I'll leave you to decide whether I should be proud or ashamed (or neither) of that!

I hope that White Valiant (with Jana this morning in the final photograph) will be ready to run at around the same time.  He's had a hold-up since running at Fontwell in early September, but he's cantering nicely at present and we'll step his work up during the coming weeks.  He's in very good form at present, and after a period of frustration I'm very happy with how he's going.  We also have a new horse called Solitary Sister (with Abbie and Gus in the seventh photograph) who came from the Horses-in-Training Sale.  She's had it easy since the sale as she had had an active summer, but we'll get her going again and I hope that she'll resume late winter (possibly February 2nd, if she's ready in time) and then run on through the season.  I'm excited about her.  There's also Roy (ears visible in the penultimate photograph, just before daybreak this morning) returning to work, hopefully to resume on 16th January as part of his fine-tuning in advance of the first Brighton meeting of 2018.

I'm also very happy with Delatite, who had a near-death experience towards the end of October.  He's come back from that really well, better than one could have hoped, so far, so let's hope that his convalescence continues to go so well.  We are still a long way off being ready to make concrete plans for him, but let's hope that we get there eventually.  He picked up remarkably quickly after his life-saving surgery, and within a month one would have had no idea that he had been so ill so recently.  Massive kudos to all at Newmarket Equine Hospital, not just for the fact that he's still alive but also for the fact that he returned to rude health so quickly.

I'll just leave you with a question.  What is a twilight meeting?  Racing used to shut down for two or three days before Christmas, so one might have thought that that Friday evening, 22nd December, was the end of things before the break.  But this year the only blank days are Christmas Day and the previous day, Sunday 24th December.  Anyway, we're planning to run at what is described as a twilight meeting at Wolverhampton on Friday.  Emma asked me a few days ago what time the race would be.  My answer was that, whatever time the race was, we wouldn't be too late because I'd noticed that the fixture is a 'twilight', rather than 'evening' fixture.  That makes a massive difference.  Anyway, I've looked to see the time of the race.  8.45. What the hell?!

Twilight fixtures (and I understand that to mean that they begin around tea-time and run through the first part of the evening, and in winter that generally means starting about quarter of an hour after the final afternoon race) as opposed to proper evening meetings are hugely appreciated by those involved in putting on the show.  I assume that they are also hugely appreciated by the betting-shop community as they flow seamlessly on from the afternoon's action, rather than having a long hiatus late afternoon of a couple of hours with no racing.  So it was good to read that that Wolverhampton fixture is a twilight one, rather than an evening one.

Anyway, that afternoon there is one Flat meeting (Southwell) and two National Hunt meetings (Ascot and Uttoxeter). The last race at Southwell is at 3.20.  The last race at Uttoxter is at 3.30.  The last race at Ascot is 3.40. The first race at Wolverhampton?  3.50?  3.55?  4.00?  No.  The first race of Wolverhampton's seven-race "twilight" card is more than two hours after the final race of the afternoon.  (And a couple of hours after twilight!).  It's at 5.45 (ie the same time as the first race at the 'evening' fixture there last Saturday).  The last race is at 8.45.  How does this qualify as a twilight meeting?  I suppose it could be that it ends at 8.45 (having merely seven races) as opposed to the 9.15 finale last Saturday (when there were eight races; or, correctly, seven races, one of which was run in two divisions).

If that's it, that's too fine a distinction for me to grasp fully.  (Plus the descriptions of 'evening' and 'twilight' are dished out weeks or months in advance, and it is only known two days before the meeting whether a race is going to be divided - I suppose that we could end up with one divided on Friday, which would presumably see this 'twilight' fixture conclude after the 9.15, ie our race!).  Although I suppose that when we get home at half past midnight, we'll be able to console ourselves that, had it been an evening meeting, we'd still only be at Huntingdon at that time.

Rust never sleeps

A winter's weekend: hard frost on Saturday morning, snow on Sunday.  Still, this is winter, and it hasn't been too bad, so that's fine.  Conditions were not good on the Heath this morning, but I don't anticipate any problems tomorrow.  I took Freediver out today and had to abandon plans to do some strong work as it was dicey enough doing slow work, but it's been thawing slowly through the day, and seems unlikely to refreeze tonight.  Plus the Heathmen will be out on Monday morning to do what they can to make things safer, so hopefully we shall be able to exercise reasonably normally and reasonably safely.

Racing's big political news of the past few days has been the announcement that there will be some sort of performance-related appearance money in all (qualifying) lower-tier races next year.  I haven't read the conditions as closely as I ought to have done, but I think that the gist of it is that every horse who finishes in the first eight will collect at least £300.  I presume that means that if the prize money collected is £300 or more, then there is nothing added; but if the prize money earned is less than £300, it shall be topped up to that sum.  So that's good.  It won't turn any loss-making trip to the races into a profitable one, but it will mean that some horses will receive a decent contribution to the day's outgoings who currently are receiving nothing.  And that is good.

I always work on the rough rule that the raceday expenses for every runner are approximately £450.  This sum roughly pays for the hire of the horsebox plus the diesel; the entry fee and the jockey's fee; and the staff overtime and expenses.  If the meeting is very far away, the expenses will be more.  Similarly if the trainer uses a transport firm it will be more, or pays someone to drive the box, or sends a travelling head lad in addition to the horse's lad.  So if one has a horse in one of the larger stables it will be more than £450, but in a smaller stable where the trainer drives the box himself, then that's a fair approximation.  So the £300 for the unplaced runners will be very much appreciated.  It won't make anyone run a horse who wouldn't otherwise have run, but it will be a big help.

The races which qualify will (I think) be any races of Class Four, Five or Six which are run at a value £900 or more above the minimum value for the class.  I think that currently not many races are run that much (if at all) above the minimum, but I believe that the idea is that qualifying races will be at such a big advantage as far as attracting runners that racecourses will be keen to have their races qualify, so will increase the prize money.  So that's a second (or, possibly, the primary) advantage of the new scheme.  Mind you, Class Six races are generally oversubscribed (and run at the minimum) anyway, so whether the courses push the prizes up for these remains to be seen.  But at least this is a step in the right direction, and a very concrete sign that Nick Rust's commitment to help the lower tiers (thus flying directly in the face of recent trends, which have been to ensure that all boosts go pretty much only to the top tiers) are indeed true.  So that's very good news indeed.  Good on 'im.

Death of a racing great

It's not our parish as he was a Lambourn man (THE Lambourn man) to his boots, but even writing from Newmarket the overwhelming news today is that an era has ended with the death of Peter Walwyn.  I started following racing in the '70s and he was the country's leading trainer at the time.  But even then his stable's fortunes (ie Seven Barrows' fortunes) were on the wane, and Henry Cecil was starting to take his place, with obviously Vincent O'Brien in Ireland the towering presence overall.  The guard probably changed properly when Daniel Wildenstein's UK-based horses moved from Peter Walwyn to Henry Cecil (ironically because Peter Walwyn asked him to take the horses away if he wouldn't have the stable jockey, Pat Eddery, on board - only to have Pat Eddery leave him a year or so later to take up the job with Vincent O'Brien).

I remember Grundy beating Bustino at Ascot in the 'King George' in 1975, the 'Race of the Century'.  I remember hearing my parents talking about it, but I don't think that I watched it.  At the time I was more interested in football, and the Grand National would have been the only race I watched.  The first 'King George' I remember watching was in 1977 (by which time I had lost interest in soccer and honed in 100% on racing) and I remember watching it on the TV at Ayr with my father, the first time that I visited that racecourse.  Derby and Irish Derby winner The Minstrel (Lester, Vincent O'Brien) won the race that day, but even then Peter Walwyn's runner Orange Bay (Pat Eddery) was only beaten a short head. So from the very early days of my following the sport, Peter Walwyn was a towering presence.  His passing really is the end of an era.

From a totally selfish point of view, I treasure the fact that I did meet him once.  All too often a great man dies, and one wishes that one had met him while it was still possible.  In general, I don't like going to weddings.  I struggle with both the formality and the jollity, if that makes any sense.  (And I'm aware that that makes me sound like a miserable git, and I don't actually think that I am - but there you go).  But one which I did enjoy was that between two people whom I like very much, Rupert Erskine Crum and Emma Candy.  That was a few years ago; I can't remember which year, but it was on St Leger Day.

Rupert and Emma are lovely people and I am honoured to call them friends.  It was a joy to share their big day, their happy day.  It was a beautiful autumn day, a warm September afternoon under a blue sky.  The wedding was in a lovely old church, in Sparsholt I think.  And the reception took place at Emma's parents' property Kingston Warren, which is one of racing's special places and that was (and still is) the only time I've been there.  So that was special.  And there was a fly-past by a Spitfire, owned and flown by a farmer-friend of Emma's father.  That in itself was a treat.  But (and I hope that Emma and Rupert won't mind my saying this, and I'm sure that they won't) the memory which I treasure from the day as much as any other was meeting Peter Walwyn.

Sir Mark Prescott always cautions us against meeting our heroes, as (he correctly says) it generally leads only to disappointment.  But I'm glad - no, I'm more than glad: I count it as a blessing that I met him that one time - that I met Peter Walwyn that day.  He was every bit as impressive, pleasant and charming as one would have hoped, and much more humble than one might have expected from the 'Basil Faulty' impression which he was reputed to give.  The history books will always confirm that Peter Walwyn was one of 20th-century racing's great men.  I'm very glad that I had the chance to find out that he was not only a great man, but a very nice man too.  The racing world has lost a colossus.  His family and friends have lost a loved one.  I offer them my most sincere, most respectful condolences.

Respect

We're well into the National Hunt season now, and we've had some wonderful racing at Newbury over the last couple of days.  Richard Johnson's riding is a joy to behold, and Buveur D'Air was magnificent in the Fighting Fifth Hurdle at Newcastle this afternoon.  There are heroes galore in National Hunt racing, but I can't let today end without nominating my heroes of the week.  And it's not actually this week because it was last Saturday evening, but if I write this now it's still less than 168 hours (ie the length of one week) ago.

I had an ATR shift last Saturday evening so I couldn't get up to the Leisure Centre to see it, but (as you probably know) Simon Pearce and Nicky Mackay boxed so that there could be a charity evening in aid of Nicky's father Alan, who was paralysed in a fall on the Heath early this spring (only a week or so after Nicky had had a very bad fall at Chelmsford in which he broke his thigh, which kept him out of the saddle for six months or so).  Nicky's fall was terrible, but Alan's was even worse, especially as he didn't merely break his back, but all his ribs too.  The ribs heal in time, but the spinal cord doesn't, so he's in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.  Thank God he can still use his arms, but even so it's a devastating disability.

Alan's a remarkable man.  He's one of the few people I know in Newmarket whom I've known for longer than the thirty and a half years that I've lived here.  He's spent his life doing the impossible.  You've always heard stories of him doing things that, if it were anyone else, you'd just think were exaggerated and/or made up - but you've known that, as it's him, they'll be true, and that you're probably only getting a watered down version of them anyway.  You never know how anyone will cope with facing up to paralysis, but there was always a chance that Alan would rise to the challenge unbelievably well.

Anyway, I haven't seen Alan since then (and I'm not proud to say that, as I should have done) and I couldn't get up to the Leisure Centre last weekend.  But I did speak to Alan a couple of weeks previously.  I was walking up Exeter Road one afternoon, and Danny Dunnachie (who was apprenticed to Eric Eldin in the late '80s when Alan was stable jockey, as well as Eric's son-in-law) appeared from out of the entrance to the Yellow Brick Road, talking on the telephone.  Danny came over to me. He said, "John, I'm talking to Alan.  Here, have a word with him", and handed me the phone.

I'd heard that Alan was handling paralysis in his own inimitable style, so my opening gambit was, "Alan.  Hi.  It's John.  I hear you're getting around OK?".  Even knowing how tough and uncomplaining Alan is, and how one should never be surprised by anything he does, I was still blown away but his matter-of-fact reply: "Yes, I'm doing fine, thanks.  I just can't walk".  He said it as matter-of-factly as the rest of us might say, "Yes, I'm doing fine thanks. I just get a slight twinge in my shoulder every now and then."  Unbelievable.  Absolutely inspirational.  A true hero.  (But then we knew that anyway).

So, with apologies to the heroes of National Hunt racing, we've just ended November and my nominations for Heroes of the Month have to be Nicky (seen in the fourth paragraph, on Ethics Girl at Yarmouth a few years ago, led up by Hugh Fraser) and Simon (seen in the fifth photograph, on a young Roy at Yarmouth a few years ago) - and, of course, Alan (seen here on his daughter's pony, on Hamilton Hill only a week or so before he was hurt) himself.  Anyone who rides in a race, Flat or jumping, deserves undiluted respect - but at least in a race, dangerous though it is, the other competitors aren't deliberately trying to hurt you.  If I had to ride in a race tomorrow or step into the boxing ring, I'd start cleaning my saddle and digging out my breeches now.  Simon had fought previously (he fought William Carson in the spring) but I think that it was Nicky's first time.  Heroes both - just like the man for whom they were doing it.  Respect.