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I liked Primo Pintxo and Fleur Fatale in the 2YO but pulled the wrong rein and backed the Primo. The fatal flower paid well at $4.60 the place. And I thought Moody’s Runway Star looked a standout, but it was always back and never came on in the ninth. I was feeling a bit desperate before the tenth, but saved myself with Amorino. Ten races with big fields are way too many for regular horsewatchers! A long and difficult day. Home in the dark!
I thought I was too old to find another way to lose, but I was wrong. The last race at Headquarters, the get-out stakes. A 2500 metre race for stayers. I’ve got a winning ticket in my pocket from a previous race for Hard Romp. The horse was very relaxed in the yard. The favourite, Ball Of Muscle, lived up to his looks, but was too short at $1.40 the place. Hard Romp was showing $2.90, so it was a no brainer, and no surprise when they filled the quinella. So I’m cashed up for the last. Bryce Stanaway’s old stayer Crafty Cruiser looks the goods, very relaxed, and the Hayes horse, Rawnaq, is not too bad. I’ll go the Cruiser. I’ve backed him successfully on a couple of previous occasions, so I have full confidence. A bet!
Suddenly, what the hell is that? “EVACUATE!, EVACUATE!, whoop, whoop, whoop, EVACUATE!, EVACUATE!” The noise of the siren is painful. I stick my fingers in my ears and leave the lawn to escape the noise and have a bet, but the crowd is coming the other way. Everyone spills out onto the lawn – punters, gate men, bar staff, tote operators! I’m not allowed into the stand! Maybe it’s a terrorist attack? A bomb scare? A fire in the kitchen? Even if I could get in the tote is deserted. There’s nobody there to bet with! The 2500 metre starting gate is directly opposite the wall of noise. The horses hate it. The start is delayed. Well, you wouldn’t be able to hear Greg Miles race call over the din. Eventually, after some five or ten minutes of infernal noise, the terrorists go home, peace is restored, and the horses jump.
You know the rest. The Cruiser cruises down the outside to grab Rawnaq on the line. I hang around for five minutes to cash my ticket, but the tote ladies have deserted the ship. I hate going home with less cash than I started with, but holding a hot ticket, burning a hole in my pocket. Is that a loss? Is failure to win a loss? Will the tote ladies bring back their tills next week? Will they still payout on Hard Romp?
Did the Easter bunny come to your place? It looks like he left all his eggs at Caulfield!
A huge crowd are here but all they want to do is eat and drink. There are heaps of Victorian wineries and eateries offering samples. You can buy a tasting glass for $20 and spend the whole day boozing on the grazing trail. Such a shame that I’m only here for the horses! And when The Roulettes flew over I wondered what on earth is that about. Apparently it’s for the Grand Prix. I live a cocooned existence and didn’t even know that cars were racing on Super Saturday!
The Melbourne Cup horses have been spruiked in the press but you’d have to think that they are both lays. The distance is far too short for Red Cadeaux and Protectionist wasn’t at all settled two weeks ago at Caulfield. Red Cadeaux seems to be out of season with a clipped coat, but I love this horse. What a relentless stayer! Pings from the barrier and just keeps on going. He has to be Persian Punch reincarnated. Protectionist as predicted was simply too unsettled. I left the feature races alone. The three-year-old colt Brazen Beau was very relaxed in his stall. In fact so relaxed his old feller was hanging out! He won like a good horse.
In the end, four bets for three places. My best was Marianne, second in the mares at $3.70 and my worst was Samartested, a disappointing seventh in the three-year-old fillies. But nice to win on a big day.
I have an invitation to the annual cocktail party at Headquarters. The invitation says it’s for one hour only before the first race, from 11.15 to 12.15. I set off nice and early to get me some of that free beer and arrive at 11.05. Imagine my shock to find 1000 hungry and thirsty members lined up at the gate before me! And it’s a lockout! The gates aren’t opened until about 11.17 and I don’t get in to the party until 11.40! Unreal! Are there any brains left at Headquarters? And the only reason I wanted to get there early was for the delicious egg and bacon rolls that we had last year. You can imagine my disappointment to find it was just humble party pies. So the club is saving on catering and saving on staff to open a gate. Times must be tough.
Only one bet for the day on the second horse in a six horse race. But often the place divvies in these sorts of races are outstanding. $3.90 is not too bad!
I went along to Caulfield expecting to have two bets. Protectionist in Race 6 and Pride of Dubai in Race 8, the Blue Diamond. I couldn’t find the Cup winner in his stall early on but he eventually turned up to be saddled and was the first horse out in the parade ring. But he was very unsettled, tossing his head around and changing stride. A little bit of sweat forming in the flank, not that sweating is a problem on a hot and humid day. But the horse looked nothing like the perfect, relaxed horse I saw last November. In contrast, Happy Trails was happy, as well as dry and paying attention to the strapper, with an occasional tail flick. I backed the happy horse.
In fact, I ended up having more than two bets. Pride of Dubai did the right thing, and I landed two other placed horses, Choose and Minnesinger. In fact, that made it four out of four. My best for quite some time!
The cacophony of sound from the Soundwave concert at the Showgrounds was simply appalling. A wall of noise. It blasted straight into the birdcage stalls and parade ring. The horses and humans hated it. It’s a sign of old age when you start muttering “they call that music?”. There will be a lot of deaf pensioners in 50 years time!
The lightning arrived on cue and the race was delayed some ten minutes by electrical activity. All the tote screens in the Members blew out! Fab Fevola looked great in his stall with his clone, Litte Fab, but was obviously outclassed in the race. The bubble burst on the next big thing, Deep Field, who was dispensing liberal doses of sloppy excrement in the yard. The world’s best sprinter Lankan Rupee looked very cool, but I liked Brazen Beau who grabbed second at $2.20. I was cashed up and sitting on two out of two coming to the last, but blew it on Berrimilla. Still, Swift Shadow at $3.90 meant I had a pretty good day.
I haven’t seen a walleyed horse in yonks. But here’s Blue Eyes, a four-year-old maiden mare. The iris of walleyed horses lacks the normal pigment and is either white or pale blue in colour. This lack of pigment doesn’t affect the vision of the horse. Blue Eyes ran an even race to finish sixth.
The horse is trained by Pat Carey, owned by Trevor Delroy, and bred on his magnificent property Wyadup Valley Farm, near Canal Rocks, in Western Australia. The sire is that cantankerous stallion Helenus.
There was 22 mm of rain in my gauge at home so the prospects were not looking too good for a bet, especially since the Caulfield track has been closed since the spring and the surface relaid. I arrived to find the track rated as a Soft 5. What the hell is a Soft 5?! Greg Miles kept on calling it a Slow 5. But everyone was surprised when they ran a track record in the first and it was immediately upgraded to Good 4, and by the middle of the day a Good 3. What has happened to Dead? Gone the way of the dodo?
Three bets for a faultless winner, my old favourite, Smokin’ Joey, and two losers, Heatherly and Griante. Both my losers looked like winners at the 300, and I was counting my money, but they both faded dramatically to miss a place. I forgot that there is time enough for counting when the racing is done. A rare losing day.
I took a pic of the stampers, those blokes that stamp down the divots. In the new book I mentioned that they use a wooden block without ever really checking. And here they are with miniature rakes! Looks like a last minute edit. Nearly set to go to the printer.
Hens and pens. Not much action on a very quiet day. The main highlight a hens’ party in pretty pink. And also, the lady in the hat ahead of me in the race book queue bought a pen as well as a book. Four dollars. That’s $4! Why would anyone go to the races without a pen? Even the most casual of social racegoers would always need to put a line through the scratchings. I take three: my current favourite, a Bic Pro+, a back-up for the Bic, and a back-up for the back-up.
Two placed horses and two relaxed females: Clover Lane in the fillies and Choose in the mares. When I got home I counted all the biros in my desk drawer. Fifty-one. That’s $204! If the pen burn out rate is one every two months I should still have enough for the next eight or nine years!
