Old year, new year

I've survived another year.  Well, not quite, but if I get through another 11 hours I will have done.  That's good.  I tend generally to subscribe to the school of thought that isn't taken in by the whole New Year nonsense, in that one day becomes the next whether it's 17th August becoming the 18th or 31st December becoming the 1st of January.  But, inexplicably, I am approaching this particular New Year with a spirit of optimism.  That truly is inexplicable as we've had easily the worst year of results I've put together in 25 years of training.  And it's been a year with more than the usual share of sadness.  But the human spirit is (or is meant to be) a resilient one, and I suppose I'm working on the (dubious) logic of 'things can only get better'.

Even looking into it more deeply it is still hard to find the reasons for my optimism.  We aren't starting the New Year with any new horses, only the ones we have had in 2019 minus a few that have retired; and the ones which we have are obviously a year older - although in some cases, probably the majority, that fact encourages my irrational brain to suppose that they may do better than in the past, rather than worse.  Whatever - it might just be that 2019 is a year I'm happy to put behind me.  Roll on 2020!  (Even though, I won't greet it in person as I imagine that I'll be asleep by around 9pm, as usual).

We ended our racing year in much the same style as we had spent the majority of it.  Our final outing of the year, to Wolverhampton on Friday 27th December, was a total write-off.  Thanks largely to the fact that she was drawn so wide (and also that I was very mindful that the form of her close second in a small-field maiden race might not translate at all to the very different conditions of a full-field of seasoned handicappers, notwithstanding that the horse who beat her a neck in that race had won at Wolverhampton the previous day by nine lengths) I did not go there with particularly high hopes for Hidden Pearl.  Which was just as well as the race could hardly have gone worse (well, that's not true as she got round and neither horse nor rider were hurt) and she finished 10th of 13 (with, irrelevantly, the horse whom I had thought most likely to win the race, Herm, two places behind her in 12th).

On the subject of horses and riders (not) getting hurt, I've had a good idea.  That does happen occasionally (although on the majority of occasions when I think that I've had a good idea, it generally turns out that the idea isn't as good as I had originally thought).  But on this occasion this really might be a good idea.  Suspended sentences.  This has been brought on by a film clip which Kevin Blake posted on Twitter of the head-on view of the finish of a jumps race in Ireland a couple of weeks ago.  To my untrained eye it looked as bad a case of dangerous riding as you'd ever see but the stewards appeared to demur, giving the rider (of the runner-up, which was fortunate as it meant that they did not have to demote or disqualify a winner) a four-day ban for 'careless riding'.

Kevin was clearly as stunned by the riding and by the verdict as I was.  He commented, "The rider of the runner-up got a four-day ban for careless riding. What kind of carnage would have to ensue for Irish/British stewards to pass down a verdict of dangerous riding?  This obscenely lenient stewarding won't end well."  That's my fear, too.  It's one upon which I have touched frequently in this blog in the past.  This was an Irish race so one might think that it's harsh of Kevin to be bringing British stewards into the discussion, but in fairness we have all too often seen similar a disinclination by British stewards to take a firm line as regards trying to discourage dangerous riding.

The point of the matter is that punishing the rider per se is not what matters: it is ensuring that the rider does not ever again ride with such disdain for the safety of his fellow competitors, human or equine.  I don't know the identity of the rider, but I got the impression that he's probably a conditional.  And clearly a very good one because, leaving aside that he rode without regard for the safety of the horse and rider alongside him and seemingly with an attitude that his winning the race was more important than not causing a fall, he looks to ride very well indeed.

How to ensure that he changes his attitude and becomes the top-class jockey that he looks to have the potential to become?  Is telling him that he has ridden carelessly but not improperly or dangerously, and giving him a four-day ban, the right method?  On the face of it it isn't, as much as regards the verdict as the length of the ban.  One would hope that the some of the senior riders would have given him a hell of a verbal rocket in the changing room afterwards, but the fact that some of them tweeted their support of his ride suggests that that probably didn't happen.

They should have known better, although I'm sure that the rider of the horse with whom he interfered (again, I don't know and don't want to know it was) would not have been so forgiving.  It's hard to see why they should be so keen to speak up for someone who shows so little respect for the safety of his fellow riders, but there you go.  I'd be happier with the observations of experienced jockeys able to take a detached viewpoint, eg Willie Ryan (tweeting, "Appalling piece of horsemanship.  Bend the rules for sure, we all done that but that was just ridiculous and why our sport is going quickly downhill.  This type of riding cannot be seen.  It is putting both horse and rider at huge risk.  It's just wrong.") or Seb Sanders (tweeting, "... This type of riding is dangerous or intentional which is rarely used by stewards because they haven't got the balls to charge any jockey for it.").

Peer pressure would be the best way of educating him.  In its absence, action by the stewards has to suffice.  So here's how I would go about it.  When a rider is guilty of dangerous riding and/or intentional interference, find him guilty of that and give him, say, a six-month suspension - but suspend all of that sentence (maybe bar a couple of days) for, say, two years.  If he commits any instances of genuinely careless riding or accidental interference in that time, he'll have the standard accidental interference/careless riding penalty but the suspended sentence won't come into play.  But if he were to commit another instance of dangerous riding and/or intentional interference (and you can more or less guarantee that he won't do so) then the suspended 178 or however many days would be applied.  Seemples.  That would pretty much guarantee that deliberately dangerous riding would be eliminated, which would be great news for everyone, particularly the jockeys and the horses.  And you'd have done so without having to impose any heavy-handed punishments.

More immediately - Roll on 2020!  As of tomorrow, 2019 is forgotten.  Everyone's scores are back down to zero, so we're not doing any worse than anyone else.  Our score will stay on zero for at least 10 days (as our first entry of 2020 will be on 11th January) and probably for considerably longer than that, but let's hope that it can start to rise at some point.  And then keep rising!

Chewing the cud

I did indeed find myself 'ready for Christmas'.  And what a nice Christmas it was, too.  The second consecutive dry day (predictably we haven't been able to get the treble up - we're having a lot of rain today, Boxing Day) and it was more than merely dry: we were treated to stunning sunshine from dawn (seen through Hidden Pearl's ears in the second paragraph) to dusk.  Today, by contrast, is the perfect afternoon for being settled in front of the television while some really good racing is being run, although I will of course have to head outside for evening stables before too long.  Then tomorrow we'll be off to Wolverhampton, where Hidden Pearl has scraped into her race.  I'm looking forward to that.

If I have a bit of spare time at Wolverhampton, I might do some further studying of the BHA's 'Review of the Buying and Selling Practices of Bloodstock and Racehorses'.  It's a mighty document: 83 pages in the main section, plus two appendices.  I don't think that it does itself any favours by being so long.  It is fairly heavy going, albeit that there is the occasional moment of levity.  Its size and detail, though, is off-putting - and, as I'll suggest below, potentially counter-productive to its objective.  In fact, I'd suggest that Lee Mottershead, Chris Cook, Bill Barber, Howard Wright and myself might be the only people actually to have read it.  It is interesting, though, if slightly worrying and slightly confusing.

You may have read a sentence which Lee wrote in the Racing Post on Monday: "Among the themes running through the author's commentary is the normalisation of activities and attitudes which were long since banished from other trading areas and the widespread fear that has allowed them to flourish."  In the next paragraph, Lee quotes from the review, a section in which Felice quotes one breeder who told him that "the system is so endemic of 'give us a kickback' that [industry participants] don't see it as corruption, they see it as the norm".  Do you see the problem which I have?

What jars with me is that this makes no sense set against the oft-quoted figure from the report that only 5% of agents are dishonest.  Surely this makes no sense?  How many agents would there be in the British Isles?  40?  60?  No more than 60, surely?  If there are 40, then 5% of them = two.  If 60, then 5% of them = 3.  How on earth can we have reached a situation where dubious practice has become normalised and endemic if there are 38 agents doing everything right and merely two doing things wrong, if there are 57 agents doing everything right and merely three doing things wrong?  How influential can these two or three (unnamed) agents be?  It just doesn't add up.  That figure of 5% is so strange.

My other concern is that the report might have painted the BHA (and us) into a corner.  I was surprised by how much of the review is given over to unsubstantiated quotes from (unnamed) people highlighting dishonesty in (unnamed) others.  For example, "... with another stating that "corruption is rife at sales" and one industry observer commenting that the "scale of dishonesty, amounting in some cases to straightforward theft, has been eye-watering"."  Or how about "... Agents have been critical of their fellow Agents (with one describing a colleague as a "law unto himself ")."?  Or, "A significant number of breeders and/or trainers made highly critical comments around the behaviour" of some (unnamed) "Agents describing them as "beyond unethical "."?

Now the problem we have here is that this report has taken the damage done by dishonest behaviour to a higher level altogether.  We've gone from all believing that there are probably some terrible things being done to having it written down in black and white that there are indeed some terrible things being done.  If the report's aim was to limit the damage being done to the industry's reputation, so far it has done the opposite of what it is trying to do, ie it has increased the damage being done.  But it can (and aims) to rectify that.  How?  By licensing agents.  But do you see the problem here?

All the current agents will, presumably, apply to be licensed.  But unless some of them are refused licenses, then the licensing system will just be a white-wash.  It's no good telling us that some agents are beyond unethical and that the scale of dishonesty, amounting in some cases to straightforward theft, has been eye-watering.  It's one thing getting a load of unsubstantiated and unattributed complaints; quite another to print them in an official review.  But once printed in the review, they can't be unsaid.  Now that they are in print, they are doing damage that will prove very hard to undo.

The review has told us that there are rotten apples.  Few are going to believe that these apples will become unrotten for being given a license.  So this licensing system will only undo the damage which the report's contents have done if several agents (and it's hard to believe the 5% figure) are refused licenses.  And that's not going to be easy.  It's fair to assume that any agent refused a license is going to sue the BHA for restraint of trade.  And if the best evidence which the BHA can come up with is what is in the report (ie unnamed people talking about unnamed people) then the BHA won't have much chance of winning those court cases.  So we'll be worse off than we are now, both as regards racing's finances (because this whole thing will end up as having been a very expensive exercise) and its reputation.

It's going to be interesting to see how this pans out, but I am concerned.  (And I am writing this as someone who is favour of the review on the basis that the BHA is going to be finding itself under increased scrutiny from Westminster about its ability and its right to govern the sport, and that it has to make sure that it does not provide Westminster with sticks with which to beat it about failing to have 'got its house in order' - and the current poor reputation of the probity of the bloodstock world, if unaddressed, would indeed potentially be such a stick).  I only hope that the way that this document has been published does not end up meaning that the BHA has bitten off more than it can chew, and doing more harm than good.  In the interim, I hope that I haven't bitten off more than Hidden Pearl will be able to chew at Wolverhampton tomorrow.

Getting ready for Christmas

In common with nearly all other Britons, we're 'getting ready for Christmas'.  And, funnily enough, I am nearly 'ready for Christmas'.  I've bought half of my presents (ie one) and am starting to feel as if we're nearly there.  Which, of course, we are, as it's now the evening of the 23rd of December.  When we get to Christmas, we'll then have ten and a half months of not being asked if we're 'ready for Christmas'.  And, of course, we'll be getting ready for Boxing Day, which is equally exciting, assuming that racing goes ahead, principally at Kempton.  It won't be going ahead at Huntingdon as they've been inundated; but I think that the weather is going to be less desperately wet than it's been, so hopefully the courses which are currently raceable (ie all that hold Boxing Day fixtures, bar Huntingdon) will still be raceable on Thursday.

Then we'll be getting ready for Friday, ie getting ready to take Hidden Pearl to Wolverhampton.  Mind you, those preparations might be in vain as she may be eliminated.  Thirteen get in and she's number 20 of 25, so it's going to be touch and go, at best.  Still, if she doesn't run then, she can run in the first week of January in a more or less identical race (14 furlongs, 46-65 handicap) at Chelmsford.  Normally we'd know on Wednesday if we're running on Friday; but as Wednesday is Christmas, Weatherbys won't be operating on that day so declarations won't be taken until Thursday.  So we'll have to wait until then to know if we get a run.  I am aware that some people reportedly prefer 24-hour declarations, but I don't know why: 48-hour declarations make life so much easier for trainers.

It's great that Boxing Day declarations have already been taken so the runners will be in tomorrow's (ie 24th December's) papers.  I'm looking forward to it already.  On the subject of jumps racing, we had my bugbear - ie a jumper suffering an unnecessary injury because of not wearing boots - at Ascot on Friday when Angels Breath badly damaged his front tendon with his hind hoof while landing over a jump.  Personally, having been, to borrow a phrase from The Fox's Prophecy, "taught wisdom by disaster", I ideally never run a horse in a jumps race without front boots, but I can understand why some trainers prefer not to do so as, while doing so decreases the chance of the horse suffering a fatal or career-ending injury, it also increases the chance of the horse not winning, simply because the boots add weight to the leg.

Obviously, on soft or heavy ground, they can add significantly more weight as the boots collect mud as the race goes on.  So I can understand why trainers particularly prefer not to use them on heavy ground - although the same afternoon I did watch a Venetia Williams-trained horse wearing boots, as all hers do, win in bottomless ground by a street at Uttoxeter.  However, in an age when more and more things are bound by regulation, I am surprised that it is permissible to run a horse in hind plates when he isn't wearing front boots.  (Obviously, if a horse does strike into his front leg with the toe of the hind foot, the damage is far less severe if he is unshod behind).

My preference would be for it to be compulsory to run jumpers in front boots because then the trainers who opt for a safety-first policy are not disadvantaged and there is no disincentive (in the form of your horse carrying less weight on his legs) towards leaving the boots off; but if we are allowed to run horses without boots on their front legs in jumps races (and I do appreciate that some people subscribe to the school of thought that a horse is more likely to strain a tendon when wearing boots because the legs are less ventilated, although for me - and presumably Venetia Williams - and all other old-school people this is perceived as less of a risk) then not insisting that such horses race barefoot behind is just barmy.

A glimmer of hope on a rainy night in Chelmsford

We had our two runners last week.  Mixed results.  Hidden Pearl ran a very nice race at Chelmsford on Thursday evening: second, beaten a neck by the 1/5 favourite.  Das Kapital wasn't so good at Newcastle on Saturday, finishing midfield.  He had run moderately on his only previous try on the AW, at Chelmsford two starts previously; but he had run a very nice race since then on heavy ground at Yarmouth, looked to be in good form and was now eligible for 0-50 company, so I thought that it was worth having a go.  It didn't work out and he clearly isn't as good on the AW, but it was a pleasant outing (albeit a very long day indeed and an expensive one) despite the disappointment of the race.

Hidden Pearl's run was much more pleasing.  I'd had a sneaky suspicion that she might give the favourite something to think about, and she certainly did that, only losing out in the final strides.  She ran competitively and genuinely, so I hope that it's justifiable to think that she can give us plenty to look forward to.  I won't get carried away, though: it was a very weak race and a slowly-run one in which we were flattered by being ridden so well (by Sophie Ralston).  But there were enough positives for me to be very heartened.

She will find it tougher next time as we won't find a race with as little depth again for a long while, but we and she shall keep trying.  It'll probably have to be a handicap next time, possibly at Wolverhampton on 27th December.  If so, that'll be our next runner.  It can be slightly galling to come so close to winning and not win, but in this case it was very easy to swallow.  When you're against a 1/5 shot, even if you half-think that you have a chance, you don't go there seriously expecting to win; and when the horse is ridden as well as she was and totally given the run of the race, there's no element of 'If only ...'.

Aside from that, the debate about the changes to the distribution of apprentices' fees continues to rumble on, but hopefully that'll be a thing of the past shortly, at which point we'll start wondering what all the fuss was about.  I haven't got anything to add to my comments on the subject in the last chapter, except to reiterate that those who weren't playing the game made these changes inevitable, and that this really is a storm in a tea-cup.  I almost wish that I was vexed on the subject - in the sense that if I had so little to worry about that I was worrying about this, then I really would be living an idyllic existence - but I'm not.

Flame of optimism

It's ten days since I last wrote a chapter of this blog.  We've had one runner since then: Konigin at Southwell one evening in the middle of last week.  Taking a horse to Southwell who is under-performing elsewhere is an act of desperation.  There's the chance that the change of conditions might spark a dramatic revival, but the more likely result is that the horse will be beaten even farther.  You don't go to Southwell unless you're prepared for disappointment.  So the fact that she ran career-endingly badly (she's a well-bred mare who has been placed a few times so can go off and become a broodmare as one couldn't justify prolonging the agony after last week's run) did not stun me too much: I had steeled myself in advance, and even in retrospect it was clearly worth trying out. 

I only have a runner on the Fibresand once every few years as it tends to be very dispiriting: basically, unless your horse wins, it's usually been a dismal day.  The margins tend to be so extended that even having a place-getter is generally quite depressing.  Konigin handled the surface fine and, ridden perfectly by Nicola Currie, she was travelling very easily in the clear outside the leaders coming round the turn, prompting the commentator to observe that 'Konigin has travelled very easily up to this point'.  However, within a hundred yards she was going nowhere.  Her head came up, her stride shortened and she began to back-pedal rapidly.  Horses like her are no good for your sanity or self-esteem!

It shows how far the horses get strung out in staying races at Southwell, the fact that she didn't finish last.  I watched the race from the rail near the winning post, and as she crossed the line I thought that she was last (notwithstanding that there had been several horses a long way adrift and struggling badly turning out of the back straight) as I couldn't see any horses behind her.  Anyway, it turned out that there were still two more struggling slowly up the straight towards the line, so far back that I didn't see them.  We used to have approximate margins (20 lengths, 25 lengths, 30 lengths, 40 lengths, distance ...) but now we have exact ones - unless the margins are 100 or more lengths.  In those cases, they keep the margins to two digits and just call them 99 lengths.  So she was "99 lengths" in front of the second last horse, who himself was "99 lengths" in front of the last.  Like watching paint dry.

The funny thing is that I really enjoyed the evening, aside from how badly Konigin ran (which, of course, was anticipated, so much easier to deal with).  I hadn't been looking forward to going to a Southwell Fibresand winter floodlight night meeting, but it was a pleasure.  As you often find in cities, Southwell looks much nicer at night.  Heading up there early afternoon the traffic was good, and it was good coming home afterwards.  And killing a couple of hours in the canteen was a pleasure: it was warm, the food was good, and I had taken two good books with me: 'Mike Brearley On Cricket' (which I finished) and 'A Season in Sinji' by J. L. Carr (which I then started).

My reading these books stemmed from an excellent evening which I enjoyed with the Norfolk Cricket Society at Horsford Cricket Club (on the northern outskirts of Norwich, just past the airport on the other side of the road) a few weeks ago when Mike Brearley was interviewed on stage by Pat Murphy.  I came home with two excellent (and signed) books: Mike Brearley's book and 'The Test' by Nathan Leamon, which it turns out is an outstanding novel.  The latter was the first of the pair which I read, and I loved it.  This from the dust-jacket hits the nail on the head:-

"... Nathan Leamon's love letter to Test cricket is that rare thing: a novel that captures the feel and flavour of professional sport from the inside - the good, the bad and the surreal.  Not since J. L. Carr's classic A Season in Sinji has there been a novel that quite captures the spirit of the game.  You will never watch cricket the same way again."

That, of course, gave me a task: to track down a copy of 'A Season in Sinji' (which I'm ashamed to say I'd never heard of) and read it after I'd read the other two books.  Anyway, I bought a second-hand paperback copy on Amazon and started reading it at Southwell last week, and finished it yesterday.  It's a superb novel.  I can't sum it up any better than by reproducing this review, quoted on the back of the book, which seemingly must have appeared in the Spectator when it came out (in 1967): "In so far as it is a cricket novel, it is the best I've read.  But it is also a story of exile, and of unhappiness, nastiness and tragedy".  A true classic.

We seem to have a couple of topics rumbling on within the racing world.  Regarding the alterations to the fee structure of apprentices, this is something of minimal relevance to most trainers who have apprentices, simply because in the cases of most apprentices, the employer used to get virtually nothing out of the previous system and will get virtually nothing out of the new one.  So nothing's changed.  There was nothing wrong with the previous system other than the fact that it was not operating correctly, ie some trainers were not paying their share of their apprentices' expenses.  Had they been, there would have been no need for the system to be changed; but as it was, it had to be changed.

My only concern about the new system is that with the potential for making some money if lightning were to strike and and your apprentice did start doing very well having been reduced, trainers might no longer pay their apprentices for work which they aren't doing.  In other words, previously when your apprentice was away from work for all or part of the day to ride for others, you still paid him/her his/her full day's wage as if he/she had been in work all day.  That probably won't happen in the future in some stables.  The other downside, from the apprentices' perspective, is that some trainers might be less inclined to put themselves out to help their proteges' careers to develop - but I wouldn't go overboard on that one because, in practice, most trainers won't change their approach.  You don't help someone because you hope eventually to gain financial advantage by doing so; you help someone (anyone, but particularly one of your own employees) because it is a good thing to do.

The other big topic was the bans for the jockeys who failed to pull up on the home turn in the long-distance handicap steeplechase at Sandown on Saturday.  I feel very sorry for them, particularly because a seven-day ban over the Christmas period is even worse (much worse) than a seven-day ban at pretty much any other time.  But the main reason why I feel sorry for them is that I would have done exactly the same had I been in their position.  There's no way I would have pulled up at that point.  It would have made no sense at all - and it still doesn't make sense that they were asked to pull up, which is the point which nobody seems to have made.

I watched the race.  There was a horrible incident on the turn on the first circuit when Houblon Des Obeaux fell fatally, seemingly having suffered a heart-attack.  As the runners set off on the final circuit, my thoughts were that the ground-staff would have to be quick-thinking to doll off the area where Houblon Des Obeaux lay, which would be feasible but which would need to be done quickly.  It never crossed my mind that anyone would decide to call the race off.  Anyway, when the runners came around, the area was indeed cordoned off.  The Pond Fence was omitted and the runners looked to be waved around the screened-off Houblon Des Obeaux.

Now, put yourself in the jockeys' shoes.  And when you do so, bear in mind that mistakes are frequently made on racecourses by employees and officials, and it is far from certain that things will be got right out on the track.  Just think of the man treading-in mid-race at Ascot the other day.  Think of the many occasions when you see a jockey or a horse in trouble after a pile-up: it is almost always one of the other jockeys who springs into action, almost never one of the fence attendants.  Think how poor the standard of prompt repairs has become: it used to be considered straightforward when a hurdle was damaged for it to be repaired or replaced by the time the field came round again, but nowadays that is hardly ever achieved, the hurdle instead usually being omitted.

If I had been a jockey coming up to that point in that race at Sandown, I would have been aware that there had been a faller in the pack near me on the turn on the previous circuit, and I would have been half-expecting to find an area cordoned off and us to be waved around it.  It wouldn't have crossed my mind that the race might be called off.  When I came to it - at a flat-out gallop, when I and the horse were both at full stretch, physically and mentally, and I had only a second or two to take in what was happening - if I had seen a yellow flag being waved and that there was a perfectly-feasible route for the race to proceed along, I would have made a snap split-second judgement that there was more chance that the flagman had picked up the wrong flag than that the race was actually being (needlessly) called off.

I would have taken the split-second view that if the race was actually (and inexplicibly) being called off, then there would be no harm in my having continued; but that if I pulled up and the race wasn't actually being called off and instead merely someone had grabbed the wrong flag (the more likely option) then I would have made a major c@*k-up by pulling up.  It would have been a no-brainer to carry on.  It would have been irresponsible to have pulled up.  One has a duty to ride to achieve the best possible placing, assuming that the race was still happening, and I would have thought that there was serious doubt about whether the race was actually meant to be being called off.

And I would have crossed the line thankful that I had done so, because what had just happened, ie the horses all bypassing the stricken horse safely, had demonstrated that there had indeed been no reason for the race to be called off, and that it was fair to assume that we had indeed nearly been the victim of a wrong-flag-grabbed incident.  Not so, of course, but then it's easy to be wise after the event.  Things happen very, very quickly in a race, and to punish the jockeys so harshly, as if there had been no extenuating circumstances for their making the wrong choice in a split-second, high-pressure decision when clearly there had been some major extenuating circumstances, strikes me as very harsh.

We have two runners coming up.  Hidden Pearl goes to Chelmsford on Thursday night.  I picked this race out for her weeks ago because I thought that it would be likely to produce a weak field, but even so I'm surprised by just how weak the field is, to the extent that she, with very little to recommend her, is likely, I would imagine, to start second favourite (of five).  Having said that, the horse who I assume will be the odds-on favourite should be close to a certainty.  We'd be significantly better off with him in a handicap so it seemed wise to claim, so we'll use a jockey whom I've never previously used but whom I've seen riding well many times: the excellent Sophie Ralston, claiming 5lb.  And Hidden Pearl is only very small, so I didn't want a big jockey.

I'm now particularly pleased that I've taken the claiming option as the favourite has a 5lb claimer booked (Poppy Bridgwater, another very good rider) so if we hadn't claimed we'd have been carrying the same weight as a horse rated much higher than we are, not even receiving the one slight benefit we should have had, ie the 5lb fillies' allowance.  After Thursday, we should then be heading to Newcastle on Saturday with Das Kapital.  That'll be a long 510-mile day-trip, setting off maybe three hours before dawn and getting home maybe four hours after nightfall.  Quite a commitment to run in an 0-50 race!

It would have made sense as there was a very suitable race for The Rocket Park there too, but he won't be ready to run, unfortunately, which is a real shame as it would have made been much better to be taking two horses.  But we'll go anyway: the next 0-50 race over a trip suitable for Das Kapital isn't until next year, and it would be handy to get a run into him before Christmas.  Fingers crossed Franny Norton will ride, and it's likely to be a weaker race than that one which they nearly won at Yarmouth last time.  It's been a very poor year for us but, as you can see, the flame of optimism still burns inside this particular human breast!