Horses I have known (and fallen off) – Part 1

I was going to do a short run today with the dog, but my back was painful so I thought I could just get away with going out on the bike. Sometimes all that thudding about is not what a creaky body needs. In the wind and the rain on the seafront I had plenty of time to wonder about the niggles and twinges I get. They are definitely worse when the weather closes in and although they mainly wear off as the day wears on, I think the joints are crying out for a little glucosamine. I wonder if a lot of it has been caused by my tumbles from horses over the years. If you have come off a horse a few times you can understand how the jockeys, say at Aintree today, hop back on their next ride with seemingly not a bother on them and you can also understand how poor Timmy Murphy came to be carted off to hospital with concussion

I have ridden too many horses to remember and have fallen off too many times! There have been so many falls I couldn’t actually say how many but there are some memorable ones that I have decided to record for posterity. Posterity needs to be in no particular hurry because when I had finished typing the post was too long. So there follows one fall now and the rest during the week. It’s an occupational hazard with horses but it doesn’t stop me wincing when someone hits the deck at the races.

First up – Peggy Sue – a bison thinly diguised as a horse. She had neck muscles that she was determined to use to her advantage, namely carting her rider off in any given direction. I was out on Salisbury Plain to investigate the general unacceptableness or otherwise of fox-hunting and Peggy was a hireling for the day. They knew what she was like and had fitted her with a bit assembled out of barbed wire and broken glass to aid her rider in their vain attempts to hold her (actually it was called a cherry roller bit but my idea would $have been better). This was the only time that I have been “hunting”. I didn’t see a fox all day and I could only crawl on all fours myself by the next morning.

The two falls were jumping a ditch (understandable) and then when she was (as she tried to all day) leaning on my hands and tanking along only to come upon the inconveniently placed rear end of another horse. Undeterred from her raison d’etre – to get IN FRONT – she simply jumped sideways and carried on. Presumably the horse in front had had the sense to slow for a bit of gravelled road we were crossing, something of no consequence to a real bison. I travelled across the road at speed, and minus my horse, on my very own arse – the burning pain of which has yet to be equalled.

Now of course, when you are being tortured and humiliated in this manner the last thing you want to do is get back on the beast, but 10 miles from civilisation atop a windy plain you have no choice. Sadly neither of these spills were the most frightening thing she did that day. That honour belonged to the occasion when she charged down a vertical cliff with an enormous flood at the bottom and a tree that resembled a redwood. I got the feeling (and I had little time to think about this) that her dastardly plan was to fire me headfirst into the giant tree trunk and then hold my head under the water with her hoof until help arrived, preferably too late. When I asked her about her behaviour, as we loaded the buggers onto the box at the end of the day, she said she just having a bit of a laugh. A more inappropriately named animal it is hard to imagine.

Ok, "she" didn't have horns but otherwise this is an exact likeness

One Word – Affinity

That’s what Mick Fitz said this morning about the public and the jumps horses. He’s right too. Monet’s Garden is now 11 and I adore the horse. I adore his style and panache over the fences and the way his ears tell me he’s having a great time. He’s out today at Ascot, a track which suits him, although along with the pundits on the Morning Line I think the Haldon Gold Cup winner Planet of Sound is shaping up to be a smart horse and I would favour him possibly over the old grey warrior. Which means I can’t really bet in the race, because it is disloyal to go against old favourites!

Similar applies at Haydock, a lovely track (apparently) in the summer, but where soft ground can mean sticky and tired horses finishing races. Clearly Kauto Star is the best horse in the race and the market says an emphatic evens yes on his chance this afternoon. Others say the softer ground won’t suit so well and that the Irish one-paced but soft-ground specialist Notre Pere could claim his biggest scalp yet. To be truthful I don’t like the shape of the race. Paul Nicholls says Kauto is fit and fresh and they have to “start somewhere”. Indeed. “Fresh” worries me a bit on holding ground. If he is over fresh to start he could get quite tired at the end and that can lead to mistakes. I hope not and I won’t be backing any outcome here but I would like Kauto to win.

I have an affinity with Plum Pudding (at Christmas) who runs in the Listed 10f race at Lingfield. The hot pot (sorry food is on my mind) will be Presvis who will likely hack up, but the chinks in his armour may be the surface which is a new one for him. Lingfield is not a track I have much luck on, probably because everything changes on the last turn, so I can’t get too caught up in this race either. Maybe a combination forecast with Presvis (who surely cannot be out of the top three?!), Plum Pudding and Cecil’s Tranquil Tiger.

I haven’t even got time to mention Zaynar’s race at Ascot. Oppose I’d say – I quite like the look of Alan King’s Karabak but as he said his other runner Katchit has the form in the book. And somewhere Straw Bear is running back over hurdles as 25/1. This horse has had so many problems and must have been written off to be that price. Stranger things have happened.

Too many races, not enough time, the usual Saturday complaint!

Don't know if he can win, but he will be the most handsome horse of them all

So many books and not enough time

I am having a bit of a crisis of confidence in fiction at the moment having half-read two (good) novels but seemingly having run out of steam to finish them.  Then I was looking at the  Times 100 Best Books of the Decade last weekend and I was intrigued by the one that topped the lot:  ”The Road” by Cormac McCarthy.  This story set in a post-apocalyptic landscape follows the journey of a man and his son to the sea.  I like novels about journeys, but I am worried about this one given the seemingly unremittingly bleak subject matter and setting.  I also read one deeply reflective review on Amazon that eventually concluded that, at the conclusion, he wanted to throw the book across the room.  Which kind of sums up my (hopefully temporary) problem of fiction.  It is so aggravating to persevere with a book, to enter someone elses fictional world and engage with the characters and narrative, only to be horribly unrewarded for your effort at the end.  That may sound like I am desperate for some kind of hugely dramatic crescendo or twist in the tale; I promise I am not.  I just want, as the reviewer on Amazon said of “The Road” the story to be more than the “sum of its parts”.  I want it to stay with me, to challenge my thinking, to change my views and to be accessible.  I hate finishing a book only to think - well that was interesting - next! and not ever recalling a word of it thereafter.  I don’t want reading novels to be a transient experience and that is why I am stuck.  I should finish the two I am part way through out of respect to the narrative, but the suspicion I am going to be dissatisfied by the last page is hindering progress.  Time is in such short supply that committing to a novel of 200+ pages is a considerable investment, which is probably a sad reflection on modern life rather than constructive comment on any novel.

Anyway, rather than bleating on further, I have an idea!  Having not read “The Road” I can’t say if this is the best line from it, but when I read it in the paper I thought it was pretty damn profound and made me stop and think for a while.

“He knew only that the child was his warrant.  He said: If he is not the word of God, God never spoke.”

The film of the book is out in January (nice depressing sort of month for it).  No skipping the book for the film for me though; I could not sit through the trailer.

So to help us decide what we really should read, how about a Pecha Kucha approach: twenty slides for twenty seconds on different books to inform the reading public. 

http://www.pecha-kucha.org/what

Or perhaps I am just a horrible little reductionist who needs to get on and finish those books!

Standing by for maternal guidance on the matter.

Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn in a more upbeat celluloid venture...

I Figured Something Out

Why old people get up really early in the morning and have the fridge cleaned out, their shoes polished and all the *shopping done by Thought for the Day; it’s because the nearer you are to death the more of life you have to fit in.

I would like to include a profanity here but, as the blog doesn’t swear, I won’t.

 

*robbing banks if you are the septuagenarian crim in San Diego dubbed “The Geezer Bandit”

More Walk

I confess The Walk was partially in aid of making a start on The Project.  The eldest has been getting a couple of these a year to date, but this year (Year 3) they evidently mean to step it up a gear; she came home brandishing not just a piece of paper with instructions, but a huge blank scrapbook.  We cannot find the scrapbook, which is a mystery as it is so huge a thing it would take some stuffing in any nook or cranny or rubbish bin.  Anyway, rather like the lack of a plug yesterday, the lack of the scrapbook has halted work in its tracks.  Ok, there weren’t any actual tracks anyway, on account of The Project still being very much parked in the garage, with a puncture.

So, I thought, lets inspire the youth into action with…

…berries. 

Nature’s storehouse.  Of course, in the event, I was left on my own taking photos of berries in various states of decay.

What I wondered was - are there enough for a crumble?

Animal Hospital and Rehoming Centre

I don’t really do weekend lie-ins. Not for the want of trying I must add, but once you have been woken by a 5 year old speaking fiddle-faddle in your right ear at about 6 a.m. (which I try to ignore or remember depending on how amusing it is) e.g. the dog shouldn’t eat the cat because it will give him a hairball should he Mummy? then got up once or twice to sort out the dog and prospective hairball and feed and water the 5 & 7 yos, sleep eludes me.

Sometimes though I play maternal hard ball and go back to bed to read or watch the Morning Line or whatever. Last Saturday was such a day and when I came down at about 9 there had been a mini coup in the front room. Signage was up and pets were being variously treated and shipped out. I am lucky my name wasn’t on the list.

The menu

I stand accused…

…of not finishing the washing up. Twice. In two days.

I have pleaded “Guilty” to the Richard Arkwright who returns about this time along the dark road from Cromford Mill and notices such derelictions of duty.

He asks “Why?” today too; only yesterday I ran out of hot water.
“What now?”

Well of course that annoyed me because I had in fact interrupted his busy day being the Father of the Industrial Revolution by ringing him on his mobile to ask where the sink plug was. He couldn’t tell me and I could not finish the job.

I wonder, when sentencing, if the judge will note I did make a start. Twice.

We are going to sell the house. I mean, who wants a house with no plug in the kitchen sink?

Where we walk

The universal sense of purpose of a dog (and the kids)

This is more or less where we start, but not before Rudi has had a think about chasing a pony on the bridlepath. We then head down the hill to the boundary by a stream.

He keeps curling his tail over like a pig’s – I am not sure I like the look…

The Connaught Chase

As much as I prefer the flat and will watch any old crappy race in that sphere, sometimes I can’t resist the sirens’ lure of a bit of quality jumping. It helps too that the weather has improved today, but the ground is soft (heavy in places) at Cheltenham which tempers the spark of enthusiasm somewhat.

The magnets today are Master Minded and Well Chief (1.45 Channel 4). I won’t be a backer but I will probably watch. I think I read this week that Paul Nicholls had left plenty to work on with Master Minded, so with Well Chief 10lb better off than his 7l second to him in the Champion Chase, this afternoon must represent his best chance of getting a bit closer to the new star in the block. If we know anything about the Pipe modus operandus it is that Well Chief will be fit and I must confess I would not be too disappointed if today were the day that the tables were turned. It is a big if though.

Patrick Veitch, the professional gambler, claims not to bet on jumps racing as it is too “unpredictable”. Actually the quality races are far from unpredictable but I know what he means. That is why a nice little bumper at the end of the day (why are they called that?) is much more up my street and with a classy little pedigree the Paul Nicholls’ runner Ghizao takes my eye. He and Alan King’s runner will be closely matched in the market it seems but I like the sound of the former (although the form is on good/firm…). I also had a quick squiz at the Greatwood Hurdle, a race I hold fondly in my mind with previous winners including Rooster Booster and Detroit City, but the only thing I could come up with was an old Mark Johnston inmate Hearthstead Dream – who is wrong at the weights, but should handle the ground – unlike me who is out of her depth in all this mud…

The Rooster at Cheltenham - don't worry he came home up the hill alright

The Crown Jewels

One minute you think there’s nothing to bother blogging about on a windy and wet Saturday (although it’s so far sunny in this neck of the woods) and then the next you find this list:

Summer Olympics, Fifa World Cup finals, Uefa European football championship finals, the Grand National, FA Cup final – in England, Wales & N Ireland, Scottish FA Cup in Scotland, home and away qualifiers in FIFA World Cup and Uefa European football championships in home nation to which they relate, Wimbledon, Open golf championship, Cricket’s home Ashes Test matches, Rugby union World Cup tournament in entirety and Wales matches in Six National rugby championship, in Wales.

Can you guess what it is yet?

These events form the list of the sporting crown jewels that should enjoy protected status and be kept on free-to-air channels according to a government appointed “review panel”. Don’t get me wrong, there’s not much on there that shouldn’t be is there? (except perhaps for the interminable sport known as cricket), but wot about wotsnot?

WOT NO DERBY?

No Derby!

The review group, which included racehorse owner and former racecourse board member Michael Pescod, and was chaired by former FA executive director David Davies said, “In order to be eligible to be listed, an event must have a special national resonance and not simply a significance to those who ordinarily follow the sport concerned.”

Where has flat racing gone wrong? The Derby, on a Wednesday, used to have just that. What’s changed? Why does flat racing not resonate in the nation’s psyche in the way jump racing seems to. I can perhaps answer my own question which would clearly include the commercial breeding demands that dictate our heroes are whisked off to stud, but I would rather know what others think?

The wind’s picking up, it looks like rain, it must be the NH Season.