No one spoke and no one smiled - there were too many spaces in the line

Tragically, yesterday won't be remembered as the day on which Aidan O'Brien trained the first four home in the Dewhurst, nor the day on which U S Navy Flag became the first colt since Diesis in 1981 to complete the Middle Park / Dewhurst double, an achievement which prior to Diesis had proved elusive since the great half-brothers Bayardo and Lemburg had managed it in consecutive years, 1908 and '09.  That's what we should have been able to remember the day for - but, tragically, the fates decreed that all else was overshadowed by the death of Ken Dooley in the stableyard at Kempton Park.

It's easy to get to know the staff at Coombelands because it's long been a stable, firstly under Guy Harwood and more recently under his daughter Amanda Perrett, where the roster doesn't change very much year to year.  You see the same familiar, friendly, reassuringly competent faces with the horses at the races year after year, because it's clearly a friendly, close-knit community where good people go to work and where good people remain.  I didn't know Ken beyond the occasional passing "Hello" in the racecourse stables, but that was enough to know that he was one of the very high-calibre people who kept Coombelands ticking along in its happy, close-knit, reliable, friendly way.

Death is all around us.  Even within our own little racing family we have lost several good people to terminal illness in recent weeks, all gone too soon and all leaving our little world poorer and sadder for their absence.  And we'll all be following in their footsteps, probably sooner rather than later.  That's life, I'm afraid.  That's death.  But when death appears out of nowhere so very suddenly, unexpectedly and shockingly - even though we know that we do a dangerous job which can kill us any day, although obviously we make sure to keep any such thoughts hidden deep in the back of our minds as otherwise we'd never get on a horse, or even, as yesterday has reminded us, do anything with them - it seems doubly tragic.  Trebly tragic.  Whatever.

You didn't have to know Ken Dooley to know that tragedy has struck with shocking suddenness, leaving a gaping hole in the fabric of our racing family.  You didn't have to know him to find tears running down your cheeks as the news sank in.  But however many tears the rest of us have shed, those closest to him - his family, his friends, his colleagues - will have shed more.  All we can do is offer our condolences to those who will be mourning him the most.  The racing world has lost another good man, and many have lost a dear friend.  Carpe diem.