It’s an age since I’ve been out to The Heath. In fact Blue Diamond Day on 22 February 2020, some 440 days! I’m keen to get there early for the two-year-olds with a field of six runners. I elect to take the car rather than the train since everyone seems to be avoiding public transport in case COVID is hiding under the seats. I park in the centre of the track but the main tunnel is closed. Did you know that there are two tunnels? Well, I didn’t, but I am directed towards the Guineas tunnel which is a long walk that ends up where the old Guineas stand (the cheap seats) used to be. It turns out that after walking so far I’m still only just opposite the train station and have to struggle onwards to the main gate. It’s looking ominous and sure enough the babies jump the moment I enter the course.
The course is divided into two zones. Zone 1 is members with access to the horse stalls, Zone 2 is general public with no stall access. That’s discrimination, isn’t it? Still I have plenty of time to check out the horses, but there are no horse name cards on the stalls. An official explains that there have been no name cards since COVID as the cards are touched by too many hands – the printer, the courier, the track staff. There is a directory in the racebook but the horses are listed in alphabetical order which means the stall numbers are randomised and a real pain to sort out. And then to get to the parade ring you have to negotiate what looks like a bomb site. What are they building here? Public toilets? Maybe it’s some new stalls with electronic names like at Flemington.
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Oh no!
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A bomb site
In the mares I backed Savigne which was lolling its tongue and is surprisingly a positive. The horse ran an unremarkable fourth. I made another attempt to check out the stalls and noticed only one horse, Exeter, mainly because it had a saddle cloth, but also looked nice and relaxed. Exeter seemed to be running well on the pace but then faded at the 100 only to surge again in the last 20 metres. I was pretty sure it had got third, but the photo finish took an age to decide and with each passing minute it was looking more and more ominous until a dead heat was finally declared. The worst thing about dead heats is that you only get half the dividend. $1.10 the place is simply money back. I watched a couple more but the stewards were calling the horses straight up to the yard without a circuit of the parade ring and no chance to look at them. Not much point in continuing when you can’t identify them easily in the stalls or see them in the parade ring so I packed up my biro and headed home. I think I should have caught the train.