S’pose it’s the height of laziness to reblog your own post.
Note to Self: Fuck It & Live Life Like Frankel?
This was the strains of tune, that I was singing along to at the racecourse. I had never seen the video until I looked it up for this post. They look to me like they (Mumford and Sons) are in India, maybe Kerala.
Time was I would hop on a plane to India with a song in my heart. Next week I am meant to get on a plane to Turkey with only Valium in my stomach. How things change.
Click through required, good video rewards the effort…
When things aren’t going well I always find it useful to change the subject. So, whilst I may actually spend some time over soggy form in the week – I won’t be mentioning it. But I don’t want to change the subject on a completely bum note. We had some good races this weekend and it’s been fun, if not entirely financially rewarding.
I managed to take some pictures yesterday, one of my good winner Fury, so before I start blogging about, ooh I don’t know, X Factor or Strictly I will just post these up and get some “closure” on a big weekend of racing.
And now I’m going to read my Sunday paper. I may be a while.
That would cover Richard Hughes’ day chasing the jockeys’ championship this afternoon at Newmarket. The scowl from him and his mount, Tale Untold, is probably due to being beaten into second by a short head in the valuable Fillies 2yo Trophy. No wonder she’s cutting her eye at me.
Things picked up a bit for our boy on Carnaby Street in the 16:50, where he was on the right side of another short head, but then the wheels really fell off the wagon. He left early to get to Wolvo, leaving Ryan Moore to clean up in the last on the Hannon trained 25/1 shot Lethal Glaze. Then matters really went downhill. Having travelled all the way to the West Midlands for some rides with chances, he was found guilty of using the whip with excessive frequency on Tallawalla who then only finished second. The only mount to oblige was Aviso by a neck in the last, wherein Hughes picked up a whopping seven day ban for causing havoc on a bend.
Hughes is appealing but with Paul Hanagan still holding the upper hand, having also ridden a double at Redcar, it looks like Richard Hannon’s son-in-law can kiss the jockeys’ title goodbye.
I like this shot. I like to watch from the head-on stand, but whilst you can see the runners come into the dip from there, this photo gives a better sense of the camber they are dealing with. No wonder so many become unbalanced going into it.
I’ve had a look at the declarations, but with massive fields in the first two races and the ground going soft yesterday I couldn’t possibly pick anything out from those at the moment. I might be tempted by William Haggas’ Fury in the second if the paddock inspection offers some hope. In the Sun Chariot I would like to see Seta hack up, but she will only run if the ground is suitable according to Cumani. If she doesn’t run I will be back to banging my head on the Spacious door.
Big Saturday handicaps give me a rash. I managed to find the Cambridgeshire winner last year, Supaseus, in the paddock. A repeat performance is highly unlikely. I may have a closer look at the Irish raider Pires and Elliptical. Really I just want some fresh air and a day out…
Like nowhere else, the Rowley Mile is a right tonic. I’ve had my losing days on there too, so it’s not just about winners.
I can report that Daryl the Dazzler Holland drives a really swanky Jaguar XK, Henry Cecil looks fantastic, Sir Michael Stoute still looks like he’s sucking a lemon when he loses, Mick Channon can swear like a football player and John Dunlop’s bins would not look out of place if he were Field Marshal Montgomery. Oh, and Jeremy Noseda turned up too late to remind me I really should have backed his filly Dance East each way.
She’s a surefire winner soon enough as is Clive Brittain’s Yarooh. Wigmore Hall is well ahead of the handicapper and don’t worry if Sri Putra sweats up as it makes little difference to his winning. As for Elusive Pimpernel, if we are to believe the evidence of our own eyes, he goes to the Guineas with a good shout.
The current no fly zone over the UK did not apply to two little planes I saw taking off as the car-park was emptying. I wonder who was in them?
As an aside I managed to watch some of what the Liberals will now be dubbing the Three Horse Race on the tv. I was amused by Beefy Brown’s persistent attempts to turn Clegg into his ho and his insistence on getting out the clearly Campbellesque crafted phrases like “It’s answer time now” (David).
Clegg himself upset me by referring to the two “Old Parties” tut, tut, but other than that I gave him two clear points on the card before we switched over to watch Welcome to Lagos. One of those points was because of his witty football answer about the Tories proposed cap on immigration e.g. if the cap is reached mid-summer and Man City want to get an expensive overseas player on transfer then what? Then what indeed!
Cameron just seemed a bit thin-lipped and old-fashioned in his policy ideas. Drug rehab for criminals David, but short-term sentences galore for smasher uppers of bus stops.