Various ventures

Two down, two to go. Today's Friday, the middle of a five-day period which should see us with four trips to the races in five days. Wednesday was Chepstow, yesterday was Lingfield, today's the 'rest' day, tomorrow's Newmarket and Sunday will be Yarmouth. The two so far have been similar in that each day has seen a lot of rain falling, but they have been very different: First Pressing (pictured under the very good young jockey Martin Lane, who kindly stood in for the indisposed Tom McLaughlin, who unfortunately had broken his thumb in a fall the previous evening) finished last at Chepstow, while an even wetter Silken Thoughts won in a gloriously sunny afternoon at Lingfield. First Pressing's run, though, was, I think, a medium-sized step in the right direction as she massively reduced her margin of defeat (she was beaten eight lengths) and we do at last now believe that we know what her preferred scenario would be: a test of stamina. So that wasn't too bad - plus the rain should have been relatively easy to take because, if our few trips to Wales over the past few years have taught us anything, they have taught us that, seemingly, teeming rain is par for the course in the principality. And what was nice was that our race ended up being won by a horse ridden by Adrian McCarthy, a very good and very under-used jockey (seen trudging back in after his ride in the previous race) who had gone far longer than he deserves since his last victory.


Yesterday started off even wetter, and we drove through monsoon-like conditions en route to Lingfield. We got there to find that they'd had about half an inch of rain in a very short period so the track was on the soft side of good - particularly the downhill run into the straight, which had been watered the previous day. I didn't think that the ground up the straight was too bad, with the rain having fallen on what had been reasonably firm ground, although obviously there was a lot of water in the top stratum of the surface. We'd have been in trouble if it had started raining again, but happily the sun came out - even so, though, conditions obviously weren't what we had come hoping to find. Anyway, having scratched Silken Thoughts (pictured yesterday cantering to the start, passing the post and entering the winner's enclosure alongside her friend Hugh) from Sandown six days previously because of the wet track, I obviously faced another decision as to whether or not to run her. And with the benefit of hindsight (!) I can say that I am glad that we didn't run at Sandown and did run yesterday, because she showed just what a trouper she is by slogging her way through the slosh to post a very brave victory, helped by a similarly spirited ride from Cathy Gannon. Anyway, that was really great. She's such a lovely filly, clearly thriving and blessed with what all top horses have: a fighting spirit to go with her ability. We clearly don't need to worry too much about the ground and, all in all, she's just a thoroughly admirable racehorse. (The type to make the trainer's job easy!). There was a good representation from her owners, the Renewal Partnership, who genuinely are a pleasure to train for, and the icing on the cake was that Anthony was there too. So, all told, it was a lovely day.


So the next couple of days? Yarmouth Sunday sees Batgirl (pictured frolicking in the field recently) return to her favourite track, and the recent rains shouldn't have done her chances any harm at all. And neither should the presence of the excellent William Buick on her back. So that's Sunday, the short trip up to Norfolk to our local seaside track, which has got to beat the road to, say, Chepstow. And tomorrow, just up to the July Course, should be even easier, shouldn't it? Like hell it will! Tomorrow will be the hardest day of the year, from my point of view anyway, because I've been rash enough to say that I'll ride Kadouchski in the Newmarket Town Plate. For those unfamiliar with this race, it is the world's oldest race (first run in 1664). Predating the Jockey Club's rules, it has its own rules (which are on display in the Jockey Club in the High Street) and thus it isn't an official race and one doesn't need to have a riding license to take part. For many years it used to be the only race in which women were allowed to ride; I presume that when it was instigated, it would have occurred to nobody that women might want to ride in it, so nothing was written into its rules preventing them. So that will be a bit of 'fun'. It won't, of course, be anything like fun, especially not for someone like me who never enjoyed race-riding at the best of times. I last rode in a race when I was 21, and I'm now 45, so that tells you all you need to know about my lack of enthusiasm for race-riding. However, what I lack in enthusiasm for jockeying I more than make up for in enthusiasm for history and for accepting a challenge and for sportsmanship - so when the idea was put to me of competing, it seemed the correct thing to do to take part in this little piece of living history. And, besides, the only reasons (other than common sense) for declining would have been laziness and/or wetness, and they're never good reasons for not doing anything. So tomorrow I, despite the fact that I am a long way short of being fit enough to ride in a race, will ask Kadouchski (who too is seen frolicking recently, and is then pictured under a considerably fitter and more competent rider up at the Links last month) to try to carry me around the National Stud and the July Course for three and three-quarter miles. Poor horse! Still, if any horse is up to the task, I'm sure that that little marvel will be. And, while I'm not expecting to enjoy either the preliminaries or the race itself, I'm hoping that in retrospect I'll enjoy the fact that I've taken part.


We've already had one brahma to this episode. I was talking to Rod Millman at Salisbury last week when I picked up Dr Darcey and (not knowing that I was due to ride in the Town Plate) he happened to observe that the amateur (who rides regularly in point-to-points) who rode for him in the first race had been taken aback by how much fitter one needs to be to ride on the Flat than over jumps, because of not getting the regular breaks in one's rhythm which the jumps provide. I choked, "Bloody hell, Rod, don't say that - that's the last thing I want to hear: I'm supposed to be riding in the Town Plate next week!". To which he related that he'd ridden in a charity race (only ten furlongs!) at Wincanton last year, and had turned into the straight thinking that he was coping with everything very well, had started to push his mount - and had had to stop pushing a furlong later as he was exhausted! I don't know if Rod was trying to put my mind at rest, but, if that was his aim, he definitely didn't succeed. So if I'm not giving Kadouchski much assistance in the last of the 30 furlongs, pleased don't be too surprised!