Would you read a novel by this man?

Reading back through the racing articles I have written over the years I have decided to have a crack at writing a novel based on the people and events that take place in the colourful microcosm that is the racecourse. My intention is to write something in the fun and adult. All similarities to people living or dead are most-likely intentional but will be strenuously denied! Here is the all-important first 1500 words. It is rough and ready and the first draft but would you be interested to find out what happens? It is a rough first draft but think I have captured the style I am after. If you think Dick Francis novels were a bit ‘racy’ you may not like what I have in mind. Comments welcomed.

 

Racing Novel the first few lines….,

Keith is a tryer, there was no doubt about that. It must have held him in good stead when he was a young lad about town. A faint heart never a fair maiden won and all that, Keith would have been the first one in to chat to the best looking bird in the bar, no doubting that he had nerves of steel in that regard. A thick skin too, but that sort of goes hand in hand with the nerves of steel, especially ‘these days’. These days Keith was the wrong side of 50, OK it has to be said in truth more like pushing 60. Of course there was no way he was going to let on how old it was so it was all down to educated guesses, but the general consensus of opinion was the pushing 60.

On the plus side he always dressed ‘well’. On race days it seemed that he owned a suit for every day of the week, well at least enough for a fortnight before the same one was used again. They were ‘nice’ suits too, more often than not pinstriped and off good cloth but to many observers always had just that tad of second hand car dealer about them. Top of the range second hand car dealer I’ll grant you, but that was the look. A navy blue suit with a sky blue or yellow pinstripe all topped off with electric something or other lining. That was his style, unintentionally ‘flash’ when words of description in his own head were ‘ Saville Row’ – well, they were from there originally but the guy that brought them to the races for sale managed to get them a bit cheaper, one and a half hundred for this brown and orange one for example, why pay a grand eh? He let that one slip when out on the patio of the hotel having what must have been the first cigarette out of his second packet that night. Keith liked a smoke, it keeps me slim he’d quip. He didn’t mention the yellowing teeth and heavily lined face in the same breath, oh of course the breath left a bit be desired too, but that goes with out saying. Despite the rather than flattering description it has to be hastily added that he is a nice bloke, a nice, ageing, wannabe lothario sort of bloke.

This particular day, the opening Tuesday of Royal Ascot, it appeared that his boat had finally come in. There were a few hours before his firm ‘Cecil Moneyman and Son’ ( not the bookies real name and he didn’t have a son but it wasn’t unusual for a bookie to have a trade name) were going to bet, but they liked to get there nice and early. I was having a coffee up in the stand when Keith came panting up to me. He wasn’t overly excited but often panted when he had just climbed a dozen or so steps as he had just done, that’ll be the cigarettes. He could hardly get the words out he was that out of breath, so he stopped, took a swallow and regained his composure, ‘Have you got one of them phones that can receive photos?’ I replied in the positive, as would have most people in this day and age but Keith was seemingly not as fashion conscious about his phone as he was his suit. I enquired what was up, that is when his excitement started to show though. ‘I’ve pulled’ he whispered out of the side of his mouth. I had a quick glance around, as I said it was still early and there were very few people about, none that would have been interested in Keith’s love life. I went along with it and whispered back, while jokingly looking around for his potential pull, asking who the lucky lady was and exactly ‘how’. He smiled in an ‘I know you are taking the piss’ sort of way and went on to explain that he had been a few sheets to the wind a few weeks ago in a pub and that he had got talking to ‘this tart’. Keith always had a way with words when describing the ladies, mind you it was normally after a stunning 21 year old on a night out with her mates had spurned his half-pissed advances that the derogatory descriptions appeared. I urged him on, all ears.

She was married and lived in the Ascot area but was up for a bit of no strings sex, not that night because that was her husband playing the fruit machine, but at a more convenient time. There would be plenty of them as he was a long distance lorry driver who did overnight runs, which of course is handy.  ‘Funny thing is, I don’t remember giving her my number’ mused Keith before explaining that she had just sent him a text, he proffered his phone to me. True enough, there was a message from a number as opposed to a name which read ‘ R U at Ascot? Bloke away tonight, gagging 4 it x’ ‘I thought it was a wind-up’ Keith admitted. I found this a little confusing as his confidence in situations where his true odds of pulling were way past those of the National Lottery was astounding. ‘Anyway, she’s going to send me some naked pictures to prove she means business’ he added, ignoring my puzzled whilst highly amused and slightly surprised expression. That was where my phone came in, he knew he could trust me to delete them after he’d had a look. I was quite touched by that because the first thing which went involuntarily into my head was of the endless hours of fun I could have telling and re-telling this story with pictures to prove the authenticity. I had no option but to agree, my curiosity and sense of schoolboy mischief was miles clear of the thought that some lorry driver might find my number as the recipient of some less that bashful pictures of his wife and that he might came looking for me with the intention of ripping my liver out.

He was off outside to call her, and have a smoke of course. I could see him pacing up and down on the terrace overlooking the still empty parade ring. Curiously he was doing his ‘pulling’ face and smiling broadly whilst gesticulating with his cigarette hand. Little smoke trails followed his hands. I could only hazard a guess but imagined that he was having to do his best to convince his lady friend that she should send pictures of her nakedness to his mate’s phone. I was right. ‘She wasn’t having it at first, but I managed to persuade her’ he explained. We waited, and waited, actually it wasn’t that long even though Keith was getting agitated, in reality it had only been a few minutes. Then my phone bleeped. I went to grab it but Keith was there first, I protested that it might not be his message but one of mine. It wasn’t, he recognised the number but couldn’t work out how to view the picture so had to hand me the phone for first look anyway. So there she was, I smiled and let out a wolf whistle whilst keeping the phone at arm’s length from Keith. ‘Come on you bastard, let me see’ he half chuckled, half moaned. I had another look, to be honest she was hardly wolf whistle material and not even naked, but she did have a fair figure for a woman of her age, estimated the same as Keith and a plain but better than I had expected face. I passed him the phone and watched for his reaction, he seemed satisfied with his catch. ‘Not very naked is she though’ he commented not un-observantly. Before I could agree, the phone bleeped again. This time he handed it straight to me urging me to hurry up and get the photo on the screen. Oh my goodness, this time a lot less was left to the imagination. There in all their proud glory was a rather ample pair of breasts. They met with Keith’s approval, so much so that he reached for his cigarettes as he ogled the vision of loveliness before him, He then took out a cigarette before cursing the smoking ban. The phone bleeped again, it was almost dropped it as being juggled with  the packet of Benson & Hedges. I managed to grab it and extract the third photo, this time a full frontal minus the head. Mind you, the lady was sporting what is known amongst the lads around my neck of the woods as ‘a 70’s’ which to the uninitiated is a full pubis of hair, this one was a full pubis as opposed to the more aesthetically, at least to my eyes, pleasing more recent fashion less is more. I passed the phone displaying its picture back to the grateful and rightful recipient, once again waiting for his response. It was a good one. ‘Handsome, that’ll do for me’ he beamed. The 70’s aesthetic was obviously not a turn off for men of a certain age.

© Simon Nott 2011

Cheltenham Betting Ring 2011

Tales From The Cheltenham Betting Ring 2011.

The betting rings of Cheltenham’s festival early on the opening Tuesday are one of my favourite places to be all racing year. Many of the bookmaking fraternity have had to curtail their activities on course since the arrival of the betting exchanges and their subsequent courtship, seduction, then near destruction of the on-course market the UK, but they don’t miss the festival. Some firms try to stand out from the crowd, be it with matching jackets, multi-coloured boards, free bets, enhanced place terms or just free sweets. Most are there early and many up and betting on the entire day’s racing a good two hours or so before the first gets underway, and maybe even three hours in the case of one hard-working Irish rails firm.

It’s not just the layers that come out of the woodwork but other characters that appear to go to ground for much of the year, a few ex-bookies were in evidence renewing old acquaintances. One or two of them gave away hints of their non-racing whereabouts, not vocally but with their pallor. Pale and pasty suggesting hours sat in a darkened room pitting their wits against other players on the exchanges utilising the source of their on-course downfall to try and rise from the financial ashes. The sunburned and well-fed who had been seemingly enjoying the fruits of getting out of the game just before it started to go horribly wrong. Punters who used to be regular faces but are now conspicuous by their absence can’t resist the lure of Cheltenham and the rare treat of a ring where a requested fair-sized bet isn’t accepted only after the bookmaker has done the ‘Betdaq Twist’ to ensure he can earn out of it. Hope springs eternal in all quarters, life-changing Yankees are only placed after checking the layer’s maximum liabilities. You only have to be right once and you wouldn’t want your winnings trimmed when all four outsiders went in after all.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Those were the opening few paragraphs to my Cheltenham Betting Ring report the rest of which can be found in the latest issue 78 April 2011 of Racing Ahead magazine. From all good newsagents or www.racingahead.net

Memories of Cheltenham Festival 2003, a bad one for the bookies.

This was written for the local paper. My brief was they only wanted to know how the local horses got on at the Festival, hence the glaring omission of some notable races!

Cheltenham Festival 2003

At the Cheltenham the worm turned and the punters bit back at the bookies casting many on and off course firms into near financial oblivion. West Country horses played a major part in the agony for the books and euphoria for the backers starting with the second race of the festival. Azertyuiop trained by Paul Nicholls in Somerset was considered by many one of the bankers of the meeting to win the Arkle Challenge Trophy. The bookmakers who had paid five figure sums for the privilege of being able to bet at the festival were determined to stand up to the promised barrage of cash from the high rollers. The big-staking punters invariably rear their heads for the biggest three days in the National Hunt season one of whom placed a single wager of £40,000 to win £60,000. Irish Champion jockey Ruby Walsh only had to push out the 5/4f to win by 11lengths.

Martin Pipe saddled three for the Champion Hurdle including Westender who after a reluctant start finished 2^nd at 33/1 behind Rooster Booster trained by Philip Hobbs and ridden by Richard Johnson. The winner was well-backed returning 9/2 after being offered at 6/1 early. Once again the big players were on including one single bet of £150,000 – £30,000. The Pipe yard’s loyal followers were richly rewarded when Royal Predica impressively won the Kym Muir at 33/1, a result that gave the bookies some sort of respite though was nibbled from 50/1. The champion trainer also saddled three other runners in the race of whom Montreal also finished in the money, 4th at 12/1. The yard saddled 8 runners in Tuesday’s finale the Pertemps Final but the best his string could manage was 4th with Ravenswood.

Wednesday dawned with hope springing eternal with the bookies hoping to get their hefty losses back and more bankers for the punters to get stuck into. The Royal and Sun Alliance went to the West Country courtesy of One Night trained by Philip Hobbs and ridden by Richard Johnson in a thrilling finish to win by 1-½ lengths from Jair Du Cochet. The winner was the subject of a spectacular bet of £225,000 – £25,000. Cenkos, trained by Paul Nicholls finished third for the region in the Queen Mother Champion Chase behind favourite Moscow Flyer. Samon (Pipe) and Spectrometer (Hobbs) finished second and third respectively in the Coral Cup behind monster gamble Xenophon. Martin Pipe had saddled no fewer than nine runners for the race. His supposed banker of the meeting 7/4f Stormez had to settle for 2nd behind Sudden Shock in the Challenge Cup with Victor Dartnall’s Young Ottoman in third. Tony McCoy proved his weight in gold, literally, well almost, in the concluding Bumper for at least for one punter who struck a massive £300,000 – £100,000 on Liberman when driving home the eventual 2/1 winner for Martin Pipe. Phillip Hobbs’ Widemouth Bay was third at 33/1 and would have been a dream result for the layers.

Gold Cup Day started with a narrow defeat for the region’s horses Martin Pipe and AP McCoy’s Well Chief  was caught within the shadow of the post in the Triumph Hurdle. Valley Henry ran a creditable 4^th in the Gold Cup behind popular winner Best Mate. Tiverton’s favourite racehorse ran in the Foxhunters, Mary Sanderson’s Jabiru was a 33/1 outsider but ran a very respectable 9th of 24 behind yet another well-backed winning favourite Kingscliffe, Jabiru’s mere presence in the line-up was a credit to the trainer. Paul Nicholls’ Earthmover finished 4th. There was no luck for local horses in the remaining races, Tony McCoy suffered a serious fall on Golden Alfa in the Grand Annual and was replaced in the Cathcart on Tarxien by Roddi Green who also came to grief.

The 10 winning favourites made the meeting a bloodbath for the layers. One local bookmaker, Ivor Perry who bets on the Tatterstalls front row was philosophical when questioned on how he had done, ‘Well all I can say is that today would be a good day to get mugged’ he quipped with half a wry smile!

© Simon Nott

New-fangled light boards appear at Taunton……

Taunton 08/12/0

The news circulating the course was that some severe structural damage to the roof of the old members stand had been caused by the sort of weather not encountered often overnight. Luckily for the Taunton faithful the meeting was only saved due to some fast work by some local builders, so by the sound of it the first race had been won before the meeting had even taken place.

Racing started at the present site in 1927, of all the bookmakers betting today only one name would have been represented in the betting ring back then, Jack Bevan. Now fronted by the third generation of Jack Bevans with the fourth bringing the firm into the 21^st century from behind the joint things are beginning to change. Regulars would have noticed at the last meeting that the old Jack Bevan board that has been ever present in the ring was missing, rather the old board was missing but a huge glowing lighted display panel represented the firm, which would have been more suited to Las Vegas than Taunton. The odds and horses shone like a beacon in the December gloom but today they shone from afar. The Jack Bevan firm has as long as anyone can remember bet facing the track, but today with the new broom sweeping they had uprooted from the traditional spot to pastures new across the way. ‘That’s something you don’t see everyday’ commented a seasoned regular as they watched the odds beaming out.

As the betting action got livelier the number of confused looking gents looking for the Bevan board got larger, ‘Where is he, is he ill?’ asked one as he stood opened mouthed looking at Tal Parker where Jack Bevan should be stood, ‘Has he passed on?’ quizzed another, each time they were directed to the other side of the course that many had no need to tread to on a regular basis, but at least the prices shone and guided the mystified punters to where they sought to go and reassure worried customers that Mr Bevan was still with them.

For punters who had only just gotten used to printed tickets all these changes were getting a bit much, though one thing that keeps gamblers who don’t like change happy are good results, Sunbed Dave had predicted a dire afternoon for the bookies, ‘It’s a favourites day’ he proclaimed before going to bask in the glow of the Bevan board, hoping for a tan was the rumour. Judging by the smile on his face and the fist full of notes after the 5^th favourite of the 7 races of the afternoon had trotted home, the last in the colours of legendary punting man Harry Findlay, it’s fair to say the glow from the lights was probably just a bonus. Given the superstitious nature of bookmakers it would also be fair to say that by the time the whole racing travelling circus reappears at Taunton again on 30^th of December, the Bevan team will have ditched the ‘unlucky’ new spot in favour of the old and trusted familiar position and even fairer to say that had the new lights not cost so much money they would be discarded as unlucky too.

©Simon Nott   www.simonnott.co.uk

The betting ring’s answer to Victor Meldrew and six winning jollies.

Exeter 09/10/02

It was  cold, grey and damp at Haldon as the bookmakers set up their joints prior to racing. Generally their spirit and banter is lively and hopeful. Tales of the previous week’s gains and losses, short heads that cost and the made the day and hopes of short ones that might well get turned over in the six races to come abound.

Generally is obviously a generalisation and it would be fair to say that one west country bookmaker who’s name I shall not mention here has the reputation of being less than cheery, if smiles were pounds he would have been in the workhouse years ago. Although considered by many to be somewhat gruff and indeed likened by one wag as the Victor Meldrew of the racecourse, the gent is also liked by most and respected by all as a shrewd operator who hasn’t survived in the ring all those years by being anybody’s fool. Despite the guarded optimisium of his fellow layers he was of the opinion that they wouldn’t be getting much today.

It would take an extra half an hour to find out if our hero’s miserable predictions would come true as racing was delayed because of a non-starting ambulance.

‘We will probably wish it never arrived later’ was Meldrew’s comment when it eventually turned up.

When betting started the shrewdies wanted to be on Boxers Double and had little lumps on at 20/1 down to 8/1, the clever money stayed in the satchels or at least was given to the favourite backers as Carl Rafter steered home What Do You Know, the  9/4f to an all the way victory. He won well but only after a few hairy moments not least at the first flight. The gamble could only finish fifth.

Phillip Hobbs trained Sammy Samba in the next, the punters sent him off 6/4f favourite and Tom Malone rode him to an effortless victory to follow up at his success at the previous meeting. The queues of winning punters were quite long, as were the faces of the bookmakers.

My Bold Boyo was sent off the 4/6f in the next. Trained by Kevin Bishop and ridden by Roddi Greene he proved to be the third winning favourite in a row.

The traditional hopeful demeanour of the bookies seemed to be wearing thin with one in particular, but they had no option but to get on with the next and hope for a change in fortunes.

It would have taken an act of God to stop Robert Alner’s Diletia  and he was seemingly having none of it, no slip ups and no hitched feet to save the battered bookies as 2/7 fourth favourite of the day cruised to an easy victory.

Kevin Bishop saddled the next favourite in the shape of aptly named 11/10f Grave Doubts. One bookmaker’s floorman asked his boss if they could ‘get out (of trouble) on the day if this one got beaten’ the normally rosy cheeked and jolly front row regular replied that the only way to ‘get out’ today was by jumping in the river. Thankfully he didn’t follow up his words with actions as Roddi Greene provided himself and Kevin Bishop with a double on ‘Jolly’ number five.

The queues of winning punters were once again lengthy and none more so than at the seemly gloomiest and unsmiling joint.

Only three runners lined up in the last, Martin Pipe and Tony McCoy were in the trio but were not favourites, that was the last glimmer of hope for the layers, the unthinkable notion of the combo that is normally the financial thorn in their collective sides would come to their rescue. It was not to be as Paul Nicholls’ Il Capitano at 8/13 made it favourites 6 bookies 0 by beating the AP horse Maragun by a length.

As the punters gathered in the gloomy half- light to claim their winnings there seemed to be a glow emanating from the most unlikely of pitches, nobody could quite believe it, punters queuing to draw from the bookmaker we affectionately likened to Meldrew  were greeted with a warm and happy smile as he peeled off notes in a fast and deliberate manner. This he continued to do until they all had gone. This situation was not lost on the other layers who mixed a look of misery with mystified on their faces. Noticing his counterparts’ looks of bemusement Meldrew looked up with a cheeky grin, reached into his raincoat pocket and produced a betting slip. The undisclosed amount had been placed on a six horse through the card unnamed favourite accumulator at Exeter. How much did the wily old fox win? He wouldn’t say, but as he drove off one onlooker observed that for it to produce a smile like that it must have been a nice few quid.

©Simon Nott

Big Shaun, the golfers and the gamble.

Exeter 17/11/2006

‘Big’ Shaun is a bit of a face around the local racecourses, he’s been around for at least as long as I can remember and probably longer. He’s one of the those ‘face’ faces, well connected, if he has a bet you take notice but he also keeps his cards close to his chest, at least until after he’s had his wager.

He’d been up early today, very busy putting the fear of God into various off course bookmaking firms who were apparently not too keen to accommodate his requested wagers on Norton Sapphire but thanks to a helper or two, he and the other connections had managed to get their bets on before the clock struck twelve. That was what was unusual about today, Shaun was more than happy to tell everyone he knew that they could do a lot worse than having a few bob on. Such was his and the other, mystery, members of the owning Miracle In Mind Partnership a lot of people took the advice but had to wait around in the rain until the penultimate 2.55 race where Norton Sapphire was being unleashed.

The bookmakers had also heard the positive vibes but there were also some good nods from some good people for some others in the race so opened the subject of Shaun’s confidence at around 5/2, it didn’t take long for that price to tumble as the gamble gathered momentum, but it wasn’t just at Exeter. One of the partnership decided he would let one of his pals in on the tip.

Up at Ascot racecourse golf legend Sam Torrance’s phone rang, it is reported his listened intently and then stood on a table and asked for hush, he informed the throng of around 70 golfing enthusiasts, players and caddies assembled there that he had been told the probable winner of the 2.55 at Exeter and thereafter imparted his privileged information. No sooner had the words passed his lips than Tote booths were being swamped and bookmakers called.

Around the allotted time the race was under way, for a while it seemed as if the subject of the gamble was pulling too hard in the testing conditions not normally a good omen but then he took up the running and a cheer when up from the amassed ranks of Norton Sapphire’s connections who filled several rows in the stands in front of the owner and trainers bar. The jumping and shouting faltered a little when it seemed as if the gamble would go astray as a party interloper in the shape of Foxtrot Yankee took the lead at the last but Norton’s jockey James White got to work on his mount pushing for all he was worth to get to 15/8f home by a length at the line. The scenes in the stand resembled St James Park when the City had just grabbed a last gasp winner against Arsenal in the Cup rather than Haldon, the roar would probably have been heard by Sam Torrance and mates at Ascot had they not been cheering so loud themselves.

The bookmakers had been stung again, as the punters queued in front of one, a Scotsman handed over a ticket for several hundred pounds winnings. The bookmaker, it has to be said, had the hump a bit and on hearing the thick accent delved into his bag and handed over a wad of Scottish fifties and twenties commenting that as the punter was from Scotland he wouldn’t mind them and he wanted rid as he’d had them since Cheltenham.

The punter didn’t complain and took them with a smile, as he walked away from the flustered layer, he then turned back and quipped ‘I wouldn’t mind at all but I’ve lived down here for 42 years!’

(C) Simon Nott

Where’s Jack? A cold day at Taunton Races.

Taunton 3^rd March 2005

Taunton was perishing cold on Thursday, though that swelled the crowd somewhat, at least in the case of plenty of Tiverton builders who had opted for a day at the races instead of building. It was too cold for the cement said one with a sly grin, and who am I to argue.

The bookmakers are used to standing out in all sorts of conditions and have the clobber to go with almost anything that Mother Nature can chuck at them. It has to be said that most would win no prizes as best turned out as a result.

One that fell into that category was Ian who bets under the name of Jack Bevan, he was so wrapped up that even to his mates had a job to see who was under those warm, if rather out-dated wrappings. It certainly fooled one racegoer of advancing years, and it would seem diminishing eyesight. ‘Here, where’s Jack?’ he asked Ian with a quizzed look on his face. Ian is of course the public face of ‘Jack’, who, although the family has bet under that name since 1896, never actually existed.  Quick as a flash he replied, possibly employing a bit of wishful thinking at the same time, ‘Oh he’s home in front of the fire with a large brandy, he only ever sends me out on the cold days’ ‘Oh’ replied the old boy who gave a sympathetic look before taking off, grim faced.

Another bookmaker not so far away was holding a thousand pounds in ten-pound denomination notes, ‘Ruddy tenners’ he moaned ‘Take up so much flaming room in the hod’. With that he rammed them into a compartment well out of view and with any luck, harms way.

Paul Nicholls trained three of the afternoon’s winners which is never good for the bookmakers, but there was a worse result for them around the corner when Jabiru, Tiverton’s favourite racehorse, won the Hunter Chase. Tiverton trainer (and popular pub landlady) Mary Sanderson’s charge won in mighty impressive fashion by five lengths and was backed from 7/2 into 3/1 beforehand to do so. He could be called the winner a long way out and showed none of his previous inclination to jump out to the left, a trait that cost him a race here previously. A roar came from the stands from the posse of Tiverton’s favourite racehorse’s backers and skiving builders, many one and the same, as he passed the post, the silence in the ring at the end of the meeting was in stark comparison.

The bookmaker who complained about the amount of space the tenners took up was tight lipped as he left the track, it can be assumed that the days results had alleviated the problem somewhat.

(C) Simon Nott

Oliver ‘Virtual Runners’ Carter Newton Abbot 2003

Newton Abbot

03/09/03

‘He’s done it again’ was the amazed cry that greeted my arrival at Newton Abbot, had Meldrew the Miserable backed all six favourites again? Had bookmaker Bevan been spotted in the bar between races? Jack Lynn still managed to win when all the jollies had gone in? No, Oliver ‘virtual runners’ Carter had withdrawn all four of his intended once again. The situation of Ollie and his non-runners has got to such a joke now that in the morning a lively thread had been started on one of the Internet exchange discussion boards on the very topic of how many runners he would have.

Those who had surmised that he would at least run the one with A P McCoy booked to ride would have done their money once again unsuitable ground was the reason for the withdrawal of all four intended runners. There were rumours abound that there would be a special party thrown when Oliver deemed any ground suitable and that a special prize for the most non-runners in one season was up for grabs. Also sightings of the octogenarian trainer selling his owners badges outside proved false.

Eagle-eyed observers saw the Pipe horses arrive in a brand spanking new horsebox, if it made the difference or not we shall never know but Downtherefordancin trained by the aforementioned maestro and ridden by AP McCoy upset the favourite and its backers in the first beating odds-on Losgdail by a healthy dozen lengths.

Those who decided to jump on the Pipe bandwagon in the next probably wished they hadn’t as 9/4f Just Midas proved very badly named on the day finishing stone last behind the alchemists choice Val De Fleurie who got the better of Saorsie by the width of a gold flake on the line. The winner had been backed from 9/2 into 4/1.

If they jumped off they should have stuck with Pipe as a masterly McCoy ride got Dumanus Bay home from Polligana in the next providing the combo with a quick fire double.

Jimmy Frost’s supporters were well-rewarded when Dun An Doras turned over recent form to beat odds on Toi Express in the next, though had been backed from 7/2 into 9/4 to do so. One bookie standing a wedge of a wager of £1000 at the top odds.

Between races, Oliver Carter made his customary visit to the ring with a twinkle in the eye and a spring in his step. One of the bookmakers staff had a present for him, a polystyrene coffee cup with the hastily scrawled legend ‘The Oliver Carter Cup for Non-Runners’, the ring held it’s breath at the reaction to come from the notoriously grumpy one, he looked, he growled then grinned a huge grin before taking his trophy proudly to the owners and trainers area to show it off.

The bookies got a couple of favourites turned over in the next two races, with Persian King trained by Jim Old and Murray River trained by Pipe being well-backed and well-beaten. Just when the bookmakers were thinking it was all easy again up came the National Hunt Flat race, Renvyle trained by JJ O’Neil had Irish point-to-point form, the early books priced up at 13/8 and 6/4. The 13/8 lasted about as long as it took to chalk it up. Out of seemingly nowhere, men with Irish accents wearing very very nice suits and trilbies were putting £1000 in fifties into bookmaker’s hands for the favourite at 6/4 if you please. The horse started at even money and won so easily it would be a crime to describe the event as a race. Long-faced bookies and lumpy trousered Irishmen were seen leaving the course shortly afterwards one party somewhat more cheerful than the other.

(C) Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – February 2011

This was written for Racing Ahead magazine, I have been contributing since issue 2. For some reason it wasn’t used so for one month only, here it is on line. Comments welcomed.

Tales From The Betting Ring – Feb 2011

‘You could fire shots up the front line and not hit a punter’ was one bookmaker’s observation as the market started to take shape in the opener. To be fair despite the pessimism pinch of salt you have to use with many bookmakers he had a point. The crowd did seem quite sparse for a Saturday, Wincanton is normally well-attended so have to assume that the combination of the re-arranged Welsh Grand National taking place at Chepstow and a Point To Point just up the road knocked the crowd figures around a bit. The whole card was sponsored by Higos Insurance, I have no idea who they are of if they are any good but if they sponsor the whole card they deserve a mention in my book.

The punters that were there couldn’t decide who they wanted in the first as Ace High and On Trend were sent off the 5/2 joint favourites. Neither camp were right as it was 8/1 shot Buck Mulligan that got the money and had the bookies feeling good about themselves going into the next. There had been a big word for David Pipe’s Arrayan in the morning with every clever person who punts Pipe’s according to one of my off-course bookie mates. The confidence didn’t appear to have made it to Wincanton however with the talking horse taking a walk from 15/8 out to 5/2 in the live market. There was a bit of support for Nick Williams’s Royale Charter, mainly because he was reportedly seen within 100 yards of the ring. As the race progressed it soon became apparent that the two were going to be the two involved in the finish but in the end it was the Pipe morning buzzer that did the business. My off-course bookie mate wasn’t too happy, thought I’d drop that in just for enjoyment factor. It didn’t get any better for the layers in the next when Honourable Arthur was supported into 3/1 from 7/2 before landing the race.

Paul Nicholls trains just down the road from Wincanton and when they fancy one of theirs it seems half of Somerset know about it. The jobber of the day for those in the know must have been The Minack, at least that’s what a rails layer that laid 7/4 the eventual 5/4f winner thought. The bookies had their backs to the rails now, even the ones that reside in the front row, the days of two are long gone. Five Star Wilsham was hammered in the next from 5/1 into 7/2. Those of you are hoping to read that once again the books got it in hods are going to be mistaken, they had a reprieve just when they needed it when Sparrow Hills provided 16/1 respite. It wasn’t to last though, Fistral Beach was supported by a steady wave of money to provide Paul Nicholls with his second winner of the day which was swell for the punters but hardly fun for the books.

‘Beyond the point of no return’ bemoaned the bookmaker who made up the gun metaphor before the last. He may well have settled for his book then in hindsight after Bellabriggs then landed a 9/2 into 10/3 punt compounding a pretty miserable day for the layers. Business was so light that pretty much whatever they took bets for was a loser reported another, before adding he should have gone to Lark Hill.

It was back to my regular haunt of Kempton Park on Wednesday for the first of their two twilight meetings of the week. The crowd was pretty modest for the opener but there was action in the ring with Duke Of Rainford backed from 5/1 into 7/2 helped in no small part by a rep from at least one high street firm. They got it right too as the 5/1 into 7/2 gamble was landed but not before he had been ‘Loaded into the gate’ and then ‘Pressed the speed’ according to the commentator who seems to have a penchant for Americanising not only his dialogue but also renaming the equipment. Having said that, and it does seem to bug a lot of people, his is excellent at what he does, deliver exciting and accurate commentaries but they are still ‘stalls’ in England.

There was another punt landed in the next when prolific front-runner Kidlat made virtually all to land bets at all rates from 13/8 into 5/4f. There were horses behind the winner ‘Looking for a scene’ though nobody was too sure what that meant, but as none of them won we can assume they didn’t find what they were after. The crowd had started to grow a bit by the third which may have accounted for the appearance of the other thing that bugs the Kempton regulars, at least the ones I know, ‘Tales From The Scales’. These are short video interviews with regular Kempton jockeys accompanied by a little jingle. They are excellent and when they were first shown we all thoroughly enjoyed them, but now, months and months later they are akin to Chinese water torture, it was interesting to hear their answers the first few times but now it’s not, though I’m sure the first time Kempton race goers enjoy them.

The market got it wrong for a change in the next, Earlsmedic was smashed from 20/1 into 9/1 while the fancied in the morning Stratton Banker was a drifter on-course from 2/1 out to 10/3. That didn’t stop him as he went on to win well but it did seem to anchor the gamble who only managed 8^th. We had to endure another Tales From The Scales before the market got it wrong again, this time Rambo Will was out of the money despite being supported from 7/2 into 5/2f. 11/2 shot Greenhead High won the race in a tight finish, say what you like about the quality of the runners in the majority of Kempton races but you certainly get some excellent excitement in the business end. We were treated to another one in the next when Muzo landed a 5/1 into 7/2 touch when just getting the better of the 10/11f Camps Bay.

Oh no, not again ‘Tales From the Scales.’

There appeared to be a little posse lumping on But Beautiful at around 11/10 pre-race but you can be sure that they wouldn’t have been so keen to take anywhere near that price at the furlong pole or even at the big screen when 10/1 shot Bold Ring was backed at the minimum of 1.01 by those punters dotted around betting in-running. Their chagrin can only be imagined as the jolly found a turbo change of gear to scorch home and chin the likely looking winner. That chagrin would have only been exacerbated by the loud celebrations from the cash punters down in the ring. The bookies didn’t look too chuffed either, doomed and distraught would be more apt a description,

There was some respite for the hardy band of layers in the last when a 7/1 into 4/1 gamble on Guildenstern never looked like being landed. One again we were treated to a stunning finish with just a short-head and a nose separating the first three home, if Carlsberg did finishes they would be Kemptonesque.

Thursday and it was more of the same, pretty much the same bookmakers and some Kempton regular punters amongst the new faces. Sadly for the layers it was business as usual for the well-backed horses. One of their number was partly responsible for the 11/8 into Evens move for Vhujon in the opener. They got it right too as the gamble never really looked likely once the race was live. The next favourite went in too, Replicator held on well from the front after being supported from 9/2 into 4/1jf.

There was an extremely enthusiastic guy in a tracksuit watching the excitement unfold in the next, you might think that sporting attire of that nature is not suitable for the races but not for this fellow. Kenton Street and Fivefold fought out a prolonged battle for victory in the closing stages, one of those Kempton finishes again, and our hero in the tracksuit rode every yard of it from the rail. He pushed, he shoved, he whipped, he rode, in fact he had a workout almost as good as the jockeys involved. No doubt the vigour involved would have boosted his happy serotonin levels anyway but judging by the smile on his face he also backed the winner Fivefold who defied a 7/2 to 9/2 drift as well as Kenton Street to win the race. Odin won the next after being backed from 4/1 into 5/2f. ‘Oh no not again’ was the scream that went up from one of the bookmaker’s clerks, no not because yet another jolly had gone in but just when you thought it was safe to go racing, ‘Tales From The Scales’.

The next was a decent betting heat, Dubai Miracle was punted from 4/1 into 11/4f while there were a couple of lumps for Zebrand at 10/3 that got the layers jumping. The favourite ran no sort of race and never looked like winning, at the distance it looked as if 6/1 shot Good Again was going to get the money but you can never count your chickens at Kempton, once again there was a flying finish, this time it was Zebrano spreading joy to those punters that had the lumps on and breaking the hearts of the bookies that laid them.

There were a couple of theories for the running of the penultimate. Two guys who like to bet in running or at least back to lay were talking of the merits of two of the market leaders. One of them was of the opinion that Double Duchess would be certain to lead and that a back to lay bet was certain to pay dividends. It seemed that other punters agreed that she would not only lead but win and proceeded to back her from 2/1 into 13/8f. The other student of form who bets in running calling his ‘winner’ on the telephone to a mate sat at home was more interested in Mrs Neat, who he insisted always looks like winning but doesn’t so he was looking to either lay her short or back one at big odds in running to beat her when she flattered to deceive. The first punter and all those who lumped on the jolly knew their fate very early on, not only didn’t she lead but her saddle slipped soon after the start and was pulled up. Mrs Neat however had read the script looking all over the winner at the furlong pole before being overhauled in the shadow of the post by 20/1 number 14 of 14 Applejack. ‘The bottom one the bottom one’ the in-running guy was heard to call quite early in the straight to his mate back home.

The winner was backed from 25/1 into 20/1 though a great result for the ring (well the rails to be fair as there were only two bookies in the ring), well you’d think so wouldn’t you. ‘I laid it’ groaned one. Sometimes you really do feel for them, just a bit.

© Simon Nott

Commentator Karaoke

Exeter 18/12/03

Pantomime season came early at Exeter on Thursday, a new game that should become an annual event took place to brighten the gloom, Christmas Commentator Karaoke!

For some reason the intended commentator didn’t show so a request went out for anyone who thought they were up to the task to step into the commentary box and give it a go. The first race was run in complete silence until then a voice unknown piped up to let race goers know that Rodney Bakers Gallant Eye had won the race and followed up from his victory here a couple of weeks ago.

Over the next few races no fewer than three other brave souls stood in and gave commentaries on the afternoons racing. These included a point-to-point aficionado, a jockey in the shape of Tom Malone, and the very unusual occurrence of hearing a female voice calling a race when Katie Langdell of Hereford Racecourse did the honours.

Down in the ring there was some heavy punting action going on with several four figure bets being struck including one of £6000-£1000 on second place Imperial Dream in the opener. It was definitely a Christmas bonus day for the bookmakers, beleaguered of late, with only two favourites winning and three races going to 25/1, 25/1 and 16/1 shots. After a summer and autumn of great results for the punters a few began to realise why those bookmakers keep turning up!

(C) Simon Nott