A week is a long time in racing. Last week it was all crowds, champagne and Black Caviar. This week it is deserted. The teeming throng – where have they gone? Those of us that are left are wandering around aimlessly. What will we do now? How will we cope? Oh, how we loved her!

I busied myself with photography. Look, last week’s litter! I nearly got a good snap of a dangling doodle on Tonyboy in the third, but the angle of the dangle thwarted me in the end.

And I was late arriving. Whenever you are late you seem to start behind the eight ball and never recover. And so it proved. Two bets for two losers, Catered in the fillies and You Can Dance in the mares. I haven’t had a losing day for some time so I was flailing about wildly for something or someone to blame. At first I decided it was the gale force northerly wind that wreaked havoc with the horses and my hat. Then I decided it was the dodgy track. The inside was definitely off. Then I thought it was the wide running rail. Until finally, of course, it had to be the blooming jockeys. They were very poor rides. Shockers.

And then the wisdom of my motivational adviser kicked in. To deal with disappointment you must first accept that you have made a mistake, then forgive yourself, and then move on. OK. I admit that I was probably in error, I am nearly prepared to forgive myself, maybe, and I am moving on, slowly. Acceptance, forgiveness, move on. Bring on next week.

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