A dull day

Today's been a rather depressing day. At least I've got something right, which was to forecast a couple of days ago that our early spring would be a flash in the pan. It's now bloody cold. A hard frost last night was followed by a morning of freezing fog and, although the sun did break through for a while, it was back to fog by early afternoon, although at least by this time it was no longer freezing - by about two degrees.

At that time I should have been at Kempton, but when I'd got into my car to leave I'd found the battery too flat to start the car. In retrospect I shouldn't have been taken by surprise in this way, because I've been making the usual winter mistake of only starting the car up once a week or so, and then making journeys of a mile or so with the heater etc on. It had started rather awkwardly the last time I'd had it out, so this time it didn't even do that. I then spent too much time failing to solve the problem, so by the time I got around to thinking up alternative ways of getting to Kempton, it was too late. Emma had left earlier in the day, going to the races via a friend's house in Berkshire, so I called her to ask her to man the ship single-handedly. This was rather tough on her, as it was the first time she'd been in sole charge of saddling duties (although I gather Marco Botti, who had trained the first winner, was kind enough to give her a hand) and Panto is the most worrying horse to saddle, being so lean that the saddle if not well secured would be heading backwards before he'd even left the parade ring. I always worry when saddling him up, so I'd guess Emma would have been full of concerns - and that's over and above the fact that the dear horse has become such a pet that we'd be worrying at full steam anyway. However, all went well - apart from the fact that he ran poorly, like a flat horse at the end of his preparation, looking as if he needs about twice the distance he should. So that was thoroughly dispiriting, so kicking around at home while all the best laid plans went astray was a fairly demoralizing way to spend the day.

I take it to heart when a horse runs badly. Or really when a horse runs differently to how I expect, which basically means badly: if I didn't think the horse would run well, 99 times out of 100 I wouldn't be running it. (So don't bother ever asking me if I fancy any particular runner - if I didn't think the horse was ready to run well, and if I didn't think the race would be suitable, I wouldn't be running the horse). I feel a good trainer should know how the horse will perform, and also should not have horses running badly. I was ashamed of myself when Lady Suffragette ran last Sunday, and today was our first runner since then, so I'm now doubly down on myself. Perhaps Panto is succumbing to the cold/'flu/illness which has hit some of them, although he's shown no symptoms, or perhaps he's just a horse who needs to be raced infrequently, which is possible as there's nothing of him. That's his third race in a month, so that to him could be like seven or eight to a more robust animal. Who knows? I'll just have to keep my eyes a bit more open. The one consolation, of course, is that everyone else makes these mistakes. Whenever I have a horse run really badly, I console myself by thinking that ours was not the only horse to run out the back, because it's very rare, virtually however badly the horse runs, that one actually finishes last, so there's usually someone else - and very often one of the supposed best, although probably not in a Class 7 race in the middle of winter - getting things even more wrong. Lady Suffragette, terribly though she ran, actually beat about four or five. Panto had one or two behind him today (thank God!). And it doesn't happen that often to one of our runners, simply because we have so few - imagine having the best part of a thousand runners a year! You'd have some depressing days then. I finished Mark Johnston's book this arvo, to take my mind of things going wrong here, and the poor patch he endured last May and June must have had him tearing his hair out. So it happens to the best of us/them.

It was a double disappointment that Panto couldn't manage to put up a better show, because I was hoping that he'd be the second leg of a mighty double. This non-eventuating double was initiated by Blimey O'Reilly, owned in partnership by Lawrence Wadey and winner on Saturday of the Waikato Guineas in New Zealand. That was just tremendous. I knew he was running, so when I got up I looked on thoroughbredinternet, but the results weren't in. After I'd ridden one lot (Lawrence's horse Bilkie) I looked again, and there it was. Wonderful. I went into Yahoo to send Lawrence a congratulatory email, and found that he'd already sent me a report of the race, which was great to read and to share the excitement. The horse was a 35/1 shot, which must have added to the magic. He's trained by Ross Elliott, who already held a high place in my esteem, thanks mainly to the huge part he played in one of the most exciting races ever, the 1992 Cox Plate. Ross is big by jockey standards, so he rode mainly over jumps (for John Wheeler in NZ), but he was extremely talented and extremely aggressive in the Kieren Fallon mould, so Wheeler would put him up on the flat when he could do the weights. Jim Cassidy usually rode dear little Rough Habit, but Ross rode him in the Cox Plate, when I guess horses aged five or more would have had 57 or 57.5, or even 58, and the most thrilling of thrilling finishes ensued. The front-running Solvit and David Walsh won the race, but only by a lip. Ross just forced Rough Habit up into a non-existent gap around the home turn, his brave mount never flinched as Ross just threw everything at him, and they only just failed. It shouldn't have been possible for them to get the run they got, and you certainly wouldn't think the Aussies would make way for a Kiwi jumps jockey in the Cox Plate, but they got it. A wonderful race. And now Ross is even higher in my regard than ever.

Sadly Panto couldn't match Blimey O'Reilly's efforts, and this was after the first attempt at a mighty double had also come unstuck. Spaceage Juliet, aka Joolzy (see photo gallery) ran at Wodonga for Joff and his Empire, but she too failed to make the frame. That wasn't a huge surprise second up and still over 1200m, so no doubt she'll have her day soon enough. In the end, we actually came close to seeing an unusual double of a kind, because dear old Critical Stage, our former inmate who won four races in the 1997 Partnership colours of Lawrence, Gerry Grimstone and Bill Benter and who has won a few hurdle races for Jimmy Frost's stable since being sold three years ago, very nearly won the last race, a two-miler, at Kempton today. Hadden Frost rode him (very well) and was only caught in the final stride, as Neil Callan got himself out of jail with some frantic riding to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat on the Stuart Williams-trained favourite Noble Minstrel, a four-year-old son of Fantastic Light and Irish Cesarewitch winner Sweetness Herself, whose previous offspring include the talented but quirky stayer Jagger, who won a few nice races here when trained by Gerard Butler and who is now with David Hayes. Neil had found himself short of room on Noble Minstrel for longer than he was expecting and his mount would have been an unlucky loser, but all was well for him that ended well - but dear old Crit ran a blinder. Jimmy Frost is doing wonders to keep him going so well at the age of eight in his seventh consecutive year of racing, but even more remarkable were two horses who made the frame in the second race. It was only a 0-45 contest, but credit has to go to the two place-getters in a three-way photo: 14-year-old Montecristo, winner of 18 races (the most recent of which was in 2002), and 10-year-old Chimes At Midnight, who was third in the St Leger in 2000 and whose most recent win came in a Group Three at the Curragh in June 2001 (in fact, that was possibly his most recent placing, prior to today). Amazing.