Tales From The Betting Ring – Wincanton 12/04/13

One of the things about travelling the turf that isn’t often what it’s cracked up to be is staying away. Sometimes of course it is fantastic, generally big meetings where a group of you get together and socialise. That’s when you get to see people you only know by their racecourse persona in a totally different light. Very rarely in a worse one, once the pressures of racecourse goings-on are off sometimes amazing things happen. For example, nobody who was at that meal in Arundel a couple of Goodwoods ago will ever forget the delight and surprise to discover that a well-loved bookmaking family can transform into the singling  Von Trapps after a vino or two.

Staying over after Ascot was not one of those evenings. I had a fairly miserable night at the Sunbury Premier Inn, well not miserable exactly because it’s nice enough there. The problem was I had a  bit of a shock, I used the automated machine for checking in and  lugged my weary bones up the stairs to room 303 I had been allocated. By the way, the lift wasn’t broken but I’m on a fitness campaign to fight off middle-age, get me. My abode easily found, I slid in my key-card, the light went green and I tumbled into the room. Only to find somebody was already in it. I didn’t catch a glimpse of the incumbent but did hear the TV and see a suitcase with what looked like a builders hard hat on it. It flashed through my mind that I might well need that for protection should I be mistaken for an intruder up to no good. I made a hasty retreat back downstairs, but this time in the sanctuary of the lift. Lenny Henry never mentioned this scenario in the advert with tales of comfy beds and nice hot baths.

Luckily I wasn’t perused by an angry brickie and was apologised to  profusely by the bemused receptionist and given another room. The rest of the evening was spent having a meal for one in the bar. The only other customers were some quite loud Scottish lads all drinking beer and having fun. They did give me disapproving when I ordered a diet coke but apart from that just ignored me. Whilst sitting there a bit bored I checked through coming month’s schedule and decided I’d try and get some staying away mates for the next few nights away. I spotted the Saturday and Sunday Goodwood and Salisbury double, there is usually at least one firm who are up for staying up for that one so gave the bookie a call. Sadly he informed me that while they would normally would be up for it his main man’s father wasn’t too well so they would probably go home and back rather than stay en-route. He did add that he’d like to know where I was going to stay in because if the old boy got better they would join me.

I booked somewhere  on-line before heading to Wincanton so decided to search out the firm, established in 1897, on arrival. I marched into the ring and informed the boss where I had booked and then breezy as you like turned to the guy who’s father was poorly and wished him a speedy recovery. You know those moments when you immediately know that you have made a rick, the world stands still and everyone in earshot looks horrified? Yes, this was one of them. His father had since died. Doh. Where’s the ground to swallow you up when you need it. Maybe I shouldn’t have added that at least we’d be able to have that drink after racing at Goodwood now. Never start to dig deeper when you are already in trouble.

There was a really decent crowd at Wincanton, though sadly for the bookies most of them seemed to have backed the runaway winner of the opener from 13/8 all rates down to 11/8. Not a great start for the ring. The second race on the card was a 17-runner handicap, only two bookies appeared to be betting 1/4 the odds a place. I shall say no more, but on the bright side, the winner, Midnight Prayer landed a bit of a touch from 12/1 into 8/1.

Things went the way of the layers in the fourth race. The favourite, Addiction, had been a bit weak in the market but was a popular choice on course. There were a few rumblings around me that the drift was a bit fishy but those soon vanished when the jolly appeared to be going by far the best and looked the likely winner. Then he stumbled and unshipped jockey Nick Scholfield. ‘He jumped off’ screamed one slightly refreshed punter. There is no accounting for the way punters handle losing but it was probably a mercy that the poor jockey was out of earshot as he hobbled into the waiting ambulance.

The first real market move of the day didn’t come until the 7th race, the first division of the bumper. Despite there being solid support for the favourite Vodka ‘N Tonic, including a £700-£400, it was Spring Steel that was the big mover. The early 18/1 had collapsed into 13/2 at the off, nobody had stories of untold bundles of cash being spread around the ring for it, sadly those days have gone. Wherever the money had come from and how and where it was placed those involved could have been forgiven for thinking they’d copped when the gamble took up the lead at the furlong pole heading leader Tea For Two. It must have been a nasty feeling watching 18/1 shot  fight back and forge clear foiling the gamble by just over a length.

The winner was trained by Nick Williams, the Genius of George Nympton, owned by his wife Jane and ridden by her daughter Lizzy and apparently a surprise winner. Well that is how it looked for a while until a gangling figure, so far conspicuous by his absence, made his appearance. Beaming from ear to ear and gesticulating wildly, ‘Armaloft’ Alex. He’d evidently managed to keep his arm down for long enough for Lizzy and Tea For Two do their stuff, the result of which he’d had it spark off. Being a pal of the yard he often gets to know, and it appears he got to know today. Nobody had to say anything, the little gathering around him while he regaled all who would listen how exactly spark off he’d had it, had it written all over their faces, ‘Yes thanks Armaloft, no bloody good telling us now’. At least one of them must have started to look thirsty, so maybe fearing a costly round our victorious, non-tipping, hero quickly added that he hadn’t backed it on course.

He’s probably collected by now though, so Lizzy, if you are reading this, you can no doubt expect a very generous present next birthday or Christmas from our extremely grateful, loaded but secretive mate because that Axminster each-way he’d had on would have come to a nice few quid!

(c) Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Exeter 19/03/13

The betting ring at Exeter was humming with tales of Cheltenham as bookies set up for business before racing. Which ever way you looked at it, today’s business was going to be somewhat less chunky and frenetic as it had been at the festival. The six-race, small-field card and forecast nasty weather didn’t really auger well for a big crowd so expectations were modest. My shrewd pals in the ring said their ratings put the short ones top in the first four races. My eyes must have lit up as it was quickly added that no bet was advised due to the modest ratings and general average class of the combatants.

As always their advice was heeded, and profited on, or rather not lost on. Their selection and jolly in the opener Lauberhorn was beaten into fourth place behind My Viking Bay. The winner was backed from 5/1 into 4/1  but not to any noted money. Between races I did spot an ex, but still very active in racing, bookie chatting to a very long-standing professional punter. I did sort of wish I could lip-read what the tweed clad ex-layer and huge-binocular wielding punter were chatting about. Of course it could have easily have been the cost of pasties so let the curiosity pass.

By the time the second race was run you had to admire the hardy folk that populate Exeter Racecourse on days like today. It was tipping it down, but that didn’t deter those keen to have a bet. Mostly the punters were fairly well wrapped up in country clobber to keep out the elements but at least one guy was wandering around in shirt sleeves, seemingly impervious to the icy rain. Maybe he was too preoccupied getting involved  on another stick-on. This time the gamble was on Colin Tizzard’s Buckhorn Tom, backed from 11/4 into 2/1 and landed, beating the favourite into second. One punter managed to get a £900-£300 the winner early, come racing for value.

The third race was a six-runner affair with two horses flip-flopping around the even money mark 16/1 the field. Considering their customers had braved hideous weather to attend the course and bet with them rather than sit at home in front of the TV or a nice warm betting shop the majority of the ring let them down. Only half a dozen layers bet to the traditional odds of 1/4 a place while the others went 1/5th. The market leaders finished first and second so the place money stayed in the hods, you’d hope those that played the game fielded the vast majority of it.

The rain let up a bit for the next four-runner event. Gemini Ahhs was sent off the bottle-on jolly supported by a couple of fairly chunky bets but the layers kept the readies. The Nick Williams trained, Jane Williams owned, and Lizzy Kelly (daughter of the owner) ridden Wayward Frolic made all to land a family victory at odds of 15/2. Anyone who read my Cheltenham blogs might remember that our mate and racecourse regular ‘Armaloft Alex’  escaped a slip of the finger financial disaster by the skin of his nose working for a bookie on day one. It wasn’t attributed to that incident but he was at the festival in an unemployed capacity after that. He is a well-known face connected with the Genius of George Nympton’s yard but it was a surprise to see him one of the first to welcome the triumphant horse and jockey back into the winners’ enclosure. Nothing too strange about that in itself but he was also carrying a bucket, has his rick meant he sought a new job as lad at the yard?  Watch this space!

(c) Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Cheltenham Thursday.

Well there it was, Cheltenham day 3 and all our hopes riding on Reve de Sivola. As is the norm for me when an exciting day beckons, I was up and at the track very early ready to soak in all the atmosphere. It was a glorious morning too, blue skies and sunshine, everything augured well for the day.

Being on-course so early there was plenty of time for catching up. One of the first bookies I saw was Johnny Boy, he used to work for Westcountry bookmaking legend and D-Day veteran Jack Lynn back when I did. He ambled up to me and said that his daughter Grace had been reading (and hopefully enjoying) these blogs. I told him how pleased I was about that. He then went on to say that Grace had made a request that I give her a mention in this one. Once he told me the reason and reminded me of the story I could hardly refuse.  Some years ago Johnny and I were both working down at Lower Tatts with Jack.  Johnny was one of best clerks around so was on pencil while I was eyes and ears on the floor. He was always very conscientious but had his mind on other things this particular year, his wife was due to give birth to their first child any day. Roy, Jack’s son, was aware of this, but told Johnny not to worry as ‘Nobody would have a baby Cheltenham week’. Sadly his wife Caron was unaware of this unwritten rule and promptly delivered a healthy bouncing girl, yes you guessed it, Grace, on the first day of the meeting. We were of course all very happy for the couple.

The next day Roy and Jack were not so happy. They told me that Johnny had decided that the joys of fatherhood and supporting his wife were more important that racing. Yes I know! But that it how it was, so in their words ‘He had left us in the lurch’. Followed by ‘You’ll have to clerk’. Now I did know how to clerk yes, I had a go once at a Bath evening meeting where the going was firm and each race had half a dozen runners at the most, but that was it. This was a day of monster handicaps. There was nothing for it though, I was thrown straight in at virtually the deepest end ever. ‘Just get make sure you get all the bets down’ was all I was told as both men machine-gunned wagers to me. It was all I could do to do just that. I managed OK for the first couple of races but it got busier and busier. As they were off for the 3rd I was asked how the book looked, I just looked up exasperated and said, with a few expletives, I had no idea how the bloody book looked, and I didn’t.

‘He’s useless Roy’ Jack decided. I agreed, luckily they got a replacement and I was put back on the floor. On the floor and put to shame that I couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t all bad though, the replacement turned out to be excellent so all was forgotten when it got to getting paid. Anyway, the reason for that story, I can hardly believe it but it was 20 years ago today. Happy birthday Grace, I’ve forgiven you but I’m not sure Jack and Roy have yet, give it time.

Today I wasn’t in the ring during racing so have no real tales to tell, apart from my personal one of woe. It may have been a mistake to go to Geoff Banks’ joint before racing and show his delightful bevy of  beautiful lady staff the brochure that contained a photo of the suit I was going to buy with my Reve de Sivola winnings. It was an Armaloft type mistake, though confidence was running high so let it get the better of me. I even promised to buy them all a bottle of champagne out of the winnings too.

Silly boy, I should have learned by now.

I should really have feared the worst when not long before the off a work-mate of mine called. Now this fella is a very nice chap with a heart of gold, but he is the biggest jinx known to betting man if you tell him you have had a bet. Of course, as any reader knows, I have told everyone about this bet on Reve at 33/1 and 12/1. He was just ringing to confirm it was Nick Williams, the Genius of George Nympton’s charge, that I had backed. I rolled my eyes and replied an affirmative that it was. I wasn’t quite ready for his reply, he thought so and just wanted to let me know that he had heard it wouldn’t win because it had missed some work. I thanked him for his kind words of good luck and encouragement. I knew each and every one of those words were cobblers but it costs nothing to be polite.

The worry was he was watching the race and knew which one I was on. Cue ‘Jaws’ music.

Anyway, the form book will forever tell us that Reve de Silvola did connections and trainer proud by running an extremely brave race staying on resolutely even when headed. He was still staying on when just chinned for 3rd and the place part of the 33/1 wager in the shadow of the post. Sorry Gambling Gods but that was a bit cruel. Disappointing but exhilarating none the less, the horse came back sound and lives to fight in the top flight another day. Sadly for the Timothy Foxx stall down at the village that was selling the light blue tweed jacket and waistcoat ensemble they have missed out on the sale.

Unless of course Geoff Bank’s girls gave him the brochure I left them.  Maybe he went and bought that smart tweed combo himself with the untold bundles he and his fellow bookies must have won today. They could hardly have written in better results themselves.  The ante-post money I now have to pull up will be a minuscule  drop in his winnings ocean, but would still pay for the waistcoat. And no, I didn’t lay the place part as advised yesterday.

I’ll be over the heartbreak by tomorrow, after all, it is Gold Cup Day.

Tales From The Betting Ring – Cheltenham Wednesday.

I got the feeling that there had been mainly carnage in the ring yesterday, but maybe I’d feared the worst slightly too hastily. The first few layers that I spoke to bright and early on Wednesday morning were quite upbeat. The shrewd firm from the Westcountry had stood by their form convictions and not taken liberties with the ‘good things’ their figures highlighted. The workmen that had spent the night in the car stranded on their way back from Plumpton had both slept well. It’s funny how a sleepless night and choosing the costliest evening meal on the menu at the bosses expense  will aid restful sleep winked one.

The veteran layer who had decided to postpone selling his pitch until after the festival admitted losing but also that he’d not lost nearly as much as he was entitled to so was perfectly happy with his decision so far. You do get the impression that he is going to enjoy every minute of it even if he does his cobblers each and every day though.

There was one person on course that had been a highly sought-after workman on Tuesday but wasn’t working today. Armaloft Alex. I asked if he’d had a good day on the rails. He looked a little sheepish as he shuffled from leg to leg before admitting that there had been a nerve-jangling incident. It transpired that his boss for the day had asked him to hedge a monkey on the exchanges on the second favourite. That request is a simple task for a regular clerk but our premature-celebration plagued hero was at his own admission ‘slightly ring-rusty’. Not ring-rusty enough to realise that something had gone horribly wrong when the horse he just backed went green for five figures. He’d mistakenly had five grand on instead of the more modest requested stake.

Luckily it all turned out OK when the beast in question was backed (self-perpetuated when exchange users spotted a plunge and followed it in maybe?) But for whatever reason the mistake was rectified with a profitable trade back, so all was well. All except Armaloft was back to paying to get in with no wages today. That was only because the regular team were back and not because of the rick he hastened to add. Hmmmm.

I managed stop a long-striding pro-punter in his tracks for a chin-wag prior to the first. He was OK with it though as he always has time for a chat, at least before racing. I told him all about the ante-post 33/1 and 12/1 wagers on Reve de Sivola for tomorrow’s World Hurdle. Sadly he thinks that there will be several to beat it, though he couldn’t pinpoint exactly which ones. His advice was to hedge the place part of the bet, obviously sensible but oh so negative. I hate to ignore the wisdom of a seasoned professional but it goes against the grain, but will sleep on it.

Once betting got going in earnest it didn’t take long for rumours of a £90,000 – £40,000 on Back In Focus to come filtering through. Not once but twice with a £18,000 – £8000 to top it up. It looked for all the world like those hefty bets would stay in the hods of the intrepid bookies that laid them. So much so that the jolly was reportedly traded at 150/1 on the exchanges and 1/100 bet on the likely looking winner Tofino Bay. That is before that notorious heart-breaker of  many a bet, the Cheltenham Hill, did it’s worst yet again. Back In Focus flew up it to land the spoils in the shadow of the post and do some serious financial damage both on and off course.

The ring got a short one turned over in the shape of Pont Alexandre in the next but it wasn’t supported in anywhere near the strength of the previous winner and was beaten by The New One who was landed a little 9/2 into 7/2 tickle.

My trilby made an appearance again today after having to sit out yesterday due to the wind. It was lucky because I did don it because I felt I had to take it off to the ever-imaginative PR team of Paddy Power. Any firm that can not only give away green ‘lucky’ y-fronts but persuade people to wear them, over their trousers of course, is good by me. Having said that, Guinness have  been associated with the festival for 20 years to maybe their product helps with the latter. Not content with dishing out undies Paddy Power have been hoisting a  giant inflatable pair at the far side of the racecourse too. I was slightly confused as to why they seemed to appear and disappear on an irregular basis. I managed to collar one of their PR staff who informed me that ‘Paddy’s Pants’ get pulled down every time a short one goes in. Of course, genius, and silly me!

They came down after Sprinter Sacre did what pretty much everyone wanted to see it do. Win impressively. The course commentator was exceedingly overwhelmed and almost stumbled over the rapid-fire superlatives he spat out Gatling Gun style as the 1/4 shot powered home unchallenged. Spare a thought for the layers who accepted bets of £10,000 – £40,000 and £12,500 – £50,000 though.

OK, maybe not, the ring had it spark off in the last three races with winners at 33/1, 25/1 and 25/1 making it a bookies’ day for sure.

I did have another visit to the Tented Village and have narrowed the new suit down to a couple of choices, I might even go for the waistcoat too. I’ll have to not hedge the place money then won’t I because that will pay for the extra treat. Sorry big-striding pro-punter.  Here’s hoping Reve de Sivola gets a great night’s rest in his box down in George Nympton. Roll on the World Hurdle.

Tales From The Betting Ring Cheltenham Tuesday

I had no idea that Cheltenham were inspecting when I set off from Devon first thing. I was pretty shocked to discover that the meeting had been as short as 6/4 to be off. Thanks to the foresight and hard work of the racecourse anyone that jumped in at ‘half-arm’ backed their first loser of the day, which of course was a relief for all concerned.

As always with the first day of the festival hope springs eternal on both sides of the punting fence. The bookies are flexing their shoulders ready to open them to all-comers while the punters are lumping big-priced fancies together for life-changing Yankees. One fellow that features on a regular basis in my literary meanderings is ‘Armaloft’ Alex. He backed his first winner without even dipping into his betting bank. He turned up for a day out but ended up being pursued by no less than four bookmaking firms looking for staff. He chose a rails outfit and was soon tapping away with them, exes for the day and wages to come, “Ei Ei” as he would put it, but of course everyone else would say “Aye Aye” and keep their arm down until after the line.

One of the first layers I saw was one I mentioned in a previous ‘Tales’. He’s the veteran  looking forward to one last Cheltenham before settling into retirement, he gave me a warm shake of the hand, I wished him luck and meant it. With a grin he was back to enthusiastically setting up his kit belying his years in the process.

It has to be said it was pretty nippy with the wind-chill up at the ‘wrong’ end of  Tatts. “Don’t talk to us about the bloody weather” was the reaction I got from two usually amiable members of staff. They work for a firm based in Torquay who have been around since the late 1800’s. The boss recently bought a pitch at Plumpton. Pulling rank with some aplomb, on Monday he stood for the firm at Taunton, which is a fair bit closer to Torquay.  Meanwhile the  intrepid duo were packed off to the aforementioned. Anyone who saw the morning news would have noticed that the weather in the Plumpton area had been fairly inclement resulting in the pair spending the night in the car. They eventually reached the comfort of their hotel at 7.30am, it wasn’t all bad though, they were just in time for breakfast.

One punter who wasn’t going to feel the cold was Stephen Little, ex-king of the rails. He was resplendent in a long fur coat. A similar item was always his unofficial trademark when fearlessly fielding  telephone number sized bets in his heyday though the jury was out as to if it was the same garment. There was a still active layer who wasn’t going  to feel the cold either. The flambouyent troubador of the ring was betting in the Centaur enclosure. His joint was staffed, as always, by a bevy of beauties as opposed the archetypal grumpy clerk still favoured by many. It was shirt-sleeve order, lovely and warm as well as packed in there long before the first so one would imagine business would have been brisk, if he could be prised from the Champagne Bar

It was a bit sad to visit Lower-Tatts and see that so many old faces that I used to work with and near are no longer in attendance. Time marches on but it’s a little depressing to see so many characters on the missing,  presumed sold up, and bailed out list

The last port of call before the day’s racing begins is always to check in with the shrewd Westcountry firm who know their onions when it comes to jumping form. They were buoyant and looking forward to the racing as always but slightly apprehensive too. Their magic figures obtained from hours of hard work and study told them the good things were exactly that, good things. “We fear the worst” was their ominous message.

Most of the books set to work on the opener a good hour before racing. There is one layer on the rails who is the epitome of laid-back. You can almost set your watch by him as he sparks up his pipe and sets to work, rarely more than 15 minutes before the race. Once has does however he means business taking on all-comers before the legendary roar that lifts from the course as the horses are off. Going up late would have probably meant that he did the right prices on the winner of the first, Champagne Fever. It had been the morning plunge but returned 5/1.

There were comical scenes reminiscent of a Benny Hill sketch as a posse of limelight-hungry punters followed the Channel 4 team around the ring. The caravan of  those seeking their 15 seconds of grinning in the camera fame eventually came to a halt behind a major rails layer. He was asked if he minded them broadcasting from behind his joint, he replied that he didn’t object but was a bit camera-shy. He was certainly in the minority in that immediate vicinity.

The Arkle played host to the first of the day’s bankers in the shape of Simonsig. One firm reported that they had laid a bet of £20,000 – £35,000. That but was dwarfed by rumours circulating of a monster £80,000 – £140,000. The latter wasn’t confirmed so you have to hope, at least for the sake of the bookie, that it was just a rumour as the banker proved to be just that.

Golden Chieftain  won  the next springing a 28/1 surprise and provided the ring respite. It  didn’t last long though with Hurricane Fly landing the Champion Hurdle at 13/8.  With the Cross Country race postponed until Thursday the layers had another banker to deal with in the shape of Quevega in the next. Those that decided to fill their hods and take on the punters must have thought they had done it right when the jolly hit a high of 4/1 in-running only to see the cup snatched from their lips as the mare made history by storming to victory on the run-in. It is safe to say most of the ring had suffered a terrible day. One a lighter note, one eagle-eyed person did spot the Genius of George Nympton, Nick Williams, in the vicinity of the rails shortly before the off. It’s not known if he was investing in his 40/1 charge Swincombe Flame but supported or not she ran a great race to finish 3rd. That run can only bolster hope for the well-being of our 33/1 ante-post punt on Reve de Sivola in the World Hurdle.

Talking of which, and as a footnote, I did a bit of window shopping down at the Tented Village before racing. I was quite taken by the plethora of tweed suits on show at Sandown and even more so by some on display for sale today. So I have decided,  if Reve wins I’m going to get straight up to the Centaur, relieve Geoff Banks of some readies and invest in one of those country-styled beauties.

Watch this space tweed suit sellers!

Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Cheltenham 26/01/13

The elation that Cheltenham’s meeting had survived the weather was tempered in parts of the ring.  Most people had already heard the sad news but this was the first time they had chance to reflect on course.  Well-known, liked and respected Westcountry bookie  Steve Bell had passed away aged just 59. He had been a regular figure in my on-course life from the very beginning, as had his father Reg in those early days when I worked as a floorman for Jack Lynn. Sadly the betting ring and community has lost another character and he will be greatly missed. Steve’s on-course legacy lives on in his daughter Sammy who works with one of the major rails firms.

I noticed a  little huddle of bookies in Tatts prior to racing. There was an interloper amongst them. The pro-punter I had spotted at Newbury last week. I enquired into his health and asked if  indeed it was him I had seen pacing purposefully through the ring at the Berkshire track. He looked quite surprised that I had clocked him but confirmed in the positive. He confided somewhat wistfully that he had foregone most of his racecourse memberships these days. Adding with a hint of shame that he spends most of his racing time sat in a darkened room hunched over a keyboard tapping into exchanges, eyes glued to the action on a TV screen.  He was a very successful punter on-course so cost the ring plenty when he was active there, but the on-course market is a lesser place without him and his ilk.

The Cheltenham Betting Ring wasn’t lacking players though. An excellent crowd had turned out to reward the hard work and foresight of the  ground-staff and management. They were also betting like champions with decent business being done. Sadly for the layers they were only interested in two horses in the opener, and they finished first and second. The runner-up was the shade of odds-on favourite behind the second-in so not the end of the world for either party.

There is no doubt would had the better of the tussle in the next. They bet 7-2 the field at the off with plenty of decent bets for plenty of horses. None of those were for the winner Vino Griego who was without many supporters walking in the market from 16/1 out to 25/1. There were smiles all around in the ring, nothing new there when they get a result. I was particularly taken back but the jollity shown by one usually dour bookie. I have hardly seen him even break into a ‘Mona Lisa’ let alone the full on beam combined with fist ‘high fives’ with his clerk. To say he must have had it spark off would by my guess be an understatement of some proportion.

One bookmaker was asked for a £20,000 – £600 each-way a horse in the Murphy Group Chase. That’s 33/1 and a bit. He was laid half of it and got the rest just a couple of yards away. The horse was unplaced but you can still get fractions and to a place on-course, come racing. It’s not only win and each-way bets you can still get to money. Several books were offering the option of a forecast in the Victor Chandler Chase where Sprinter Sacre was long odds-on. One was a bit shocked to be offered a grand Sprinter Sacre to beat Somersby but he took the wager. He looked resigned to having done his money in cold blood until long-time leader Mad Moose ran on again towards to the line to save his bacon.

The roar that when up when Imperial Commander and Cape Tribulation slugged it out in the Argento Chase was a taste of what Cheltenham has to offer. If our memories had been fading after a few weeks of all-weather put-in meetings that roar was a wake-up call and aperitif for the festival. It wasn’t a bad result for the ring either, but it wasn’t really about that over the last.

The £1000 forecast punter was out again in the next. He backed The New One to beat At Fishers Cross. It looked for all the world like he was going to draw well after the last. Quite how he felt when he saw AP McCoy at his determined best on the latter to chin the odds-on leader and scupper his bet  is anyone’s guess. I did catch the eye of the bookie who laid it. He didn’t say a word, and didn’t need to, his face said it all, ‘how the hell did I get away with that?’

Nobody who has read my previous blogs will be surprised to learn that the race of the day for me was the Cleeve Hurdle. The 33/1 and 12/1 ante-post vouchers with top independent bookie Geoff Banks  for Reve de Sivola in the World Hurdle at the festival all depended on Nick Williams’ charge coming back safely. That was the least that could be hoped for, but owner Paul Duffy and his Diamond Partners got the dream result. ‘Reve’ was given a superb ride by Richard Johnson up with the pace taking the lead on the run to the last. Oscar Whisky had been held up to get the trip and loomed ominously after the last. Just when it looked as if he’d collar Reve in the shadow of the post he showed his mettle and refused to relinquish his lead. Next stop a possible re-match in March and something special to look forward to for connections, one of whom is a great friend. I might keep topping up, 5/1 each-way still looks great value.

AP McCoy rode the favourite Mr Watson to win the last. That result took the shine off what was a decent day for the layers and sent favourite-backers home happy. Having said that I doubt many people went home disappointed win or lose.  The ‘big freeze’ was certainly sent packing in style with some tremendous racing and spirited punting in an electric atmosphere.

Steve Bell would have loved it.

(C) Simon Nott

It is the last week of my ‘Dryathalon’, that’s no booze for January in aid of Cancer Research. Any donations gratefully received for this great cause. http://www.justgiving.com/dryathlete-simon-nott many thanks.

Tales From The Betting Ring – Exeter 01/01/13

Judging by the bleary eyes and slightly jaded look about a few of the Exeter regulars it can be assumed their first gamble of the season was a losing one. Persistent rain in the area on the 31st had lulled some into a false sense of ‘It’s bound to be off’ security when it came to the just one more beer welcoming in 2013. There were three that come to mind ‘Armaloft’ Alex and Q Cumber being the favourites for most hungover award though an ex-jockey who must remain nameless wasn’t far behind in third. I can be smug having learned my lesson the hard way over the years having suffered terribly from that self-inflicted punt.

Exeter had done very well to save the meeting and were rewarded with an excellent crowd. It was a decent enough size even the bookies with pitches down by the Denman bar gathered some staff and turned up to bet. The ruggedly handsome features of Balertwine Barry were a welcome sight. He has been largely on the missing list of late after his long-term boss sold most of his pitches. He didn’t need his trademark waterproofs for most of the meeting though, which was handy.

Armaloft, already behind in the ‘not being on’ stakes, got the double up with a very unfortunate faux pas. He was chatting to one of the few remaining on-course pro-punters when an announcement was made that a driver of a certain vehicle has left his keys in his car. ‘What sort of prat would do that’ enquired the jocular habitual premature celebrator. ‘Umm, that’ll be me’ was the sheepish answer from the usually sharp chap as he scurried off to rectify his mistake.

Despite the brisk business there did seem to be less than new year cheer in the ring. On a couple of occasions a good half dozen books decided to bet 1/6 of the odds a place when traditionally they should have been 1/5. One front-row layer was so aggrieved by the actions of his ring-mates that he posted a notice on his electronic board informing punters that the place terms should be 1/5 so if they were being offered 1/6 the were being ‘ripped off’. On some occasions you can’t blame the bookies for going for the skinny terms but on a bank holiday when the favourite was hovering around evens it did appear slightly cynical. They are entirely within their rights to do it though so ‘ripped off’ may have been a tad strong.

There is one firm one the Westcountry circuit that are mustard on National Hunt form, and they are excited. When they get excited it is worth taking note. They specialise in speed figures and are convinced that they have found one for the World Hurdle at Cheltenham. Reve De Sivola. Nick William’s (the genius of George Nympton) charge not only won the Long Walk Hurdle in impressive style but did so in a time that convinces them he would have made Big Buck’s pull out all the stops had he lined-up. That is good enough for me. Every bet I have between now and Cheltenham is going to include a small double on Reve for the race. Hopefully building into a nice little punt come March.

I race on average 4 days a week, so watch this space for more tales from the betting jungle.