Doesn't Time Fly?

I don’t know about you but when I was a child the six week school summers holidays seemed to last for an eternity. Long days and weeks playing outside, or more likely stuck indoors in the pouring rain having to amuse ourselves. There were no computer games, indeed it was only large multinational corporations who could afford any computing power, and not even any television to be planted in front of. We had to use our imaginations to generate our entertainment.

I am minded of the seemingly long summer holidays as I look at the calendar and realise we are fast approaching the end of June and I am wondering where this year has gone. Is it really six months ago that the racing program was being decimated by the bad weather?

Where has the time gone, these last six months have flown by far faster than a six week summer holiday ever did.

I have this theory about why time seems faster as we get older. When you are seven years old one year represents just over 14% of your entire life, at my ripe age of 55 that year represents a mere 1.81% of my life. So that same year is now just a tiny proportion of my life so it seems to pass by quicker. This is my theory of relativity anyway and much easier to comprehend that Einstein’s.

Each year I aim to visit every one of the UK’s racecourses at least once. I say aim as it isn’t always that simple, indeed it is a logistical nightmare.

In 2008 I missed the target by just one, with York thwarting the ambition by having the Ebor meeting abandoned and not having their usual later meetings due to maintenance work.

Last year was even worse as I missed the target by four, this time the culprits being four of the five Scottish courses.

As I write this on 28th June I have visited 34 different courses so far this year and, all being well, the tally will have hit 36 by the time this month ends in two days time. I also have dates pencilled in for all the remaining ones, apart from two – which are, guess what, two of the Scottish ones.

Who knows this may yet be the year when I finally crack all the courses in a calendar year.

I have nothing but admiration, therefore, for Bob Champion who recently visited all 60 racecourses in 60 days. In 59 cases he managed to visit the courses on a race day, the only exception being Taunton which he visited on a special event day.

His route was tortuous to say the least, one example being Wincanton, followed by an evening meeting at Kelso the next day, then all the way back to Hereford the following afternoon.

Bob raised over £100,000 for his Cancer Trust and the Injured Jockeys Fund, well done to him.

Last Saturday I was at Chester racecourse, a course where they have been racing for over 400 years.

It is the one course I actually hate with a vengeance. Enclosed by the City Walls, a railway line and a river the course is, to say the least compact.

Viewing is not particularly brilliant, not helped by the large number of tents erected in the centre of the course. Indeed the best view of racing is arguably attained for free by standing by the City Walls outside the course and looking in from the outside.

Chester also has the highest admission prices in the country.

Despite all of this, the majority of meetings are sold out in advance.

It almost defies belief, until you realise the overwhelming majority of those attending do not have the slightest interest in the racing. It is a social event or, to be more precise, a binge drinking event.

Last Saturday it was heaving, it was hot and the booze was flowing like water. The local population were out in their droves and it was clear the local tanning salons and artificial nail purveyors had done a roaring trade. Whilst most of the ladies looked elegant it was also clear, looking at the suitability of some of the outfits, that local mirror vendors were going through a tough time of things.

I actually wonder how many of those present on Saturday actually saw a horse.

It has been suggested that if Chester put on six races for three legged donkeys then they would still fill the place up. Indeed running races for three legged donkeys may actually provide a better spectacle, as they are probably less likely to be unbalanced by the tight turns of the course.

Chester has the worse draw bias of any course in the country and surely it is no coincidence that the four runners withdrawn from the opening contest just happened to be the four worse drawn runners in the race.

If the boozed up crowds and poor viewing are not enough to rankle the true racing fan then the final straw is for those who choose to drive to the event.

A racegoers traffic flow system is introduced on racedays, designed to make the journey to the track as miserable and unpleasant as possible. Whoever designed the “traffic management” system in Chester on racedays should be sacked immediately. I arrived in Chester over two hours before the first race yet I still ended up spending 40 minutes fuming in disorganised traffic chaos.

It is the only course traffic management (now there is an oxymoron if ever there was one) specifically designed to make the journey to the course actually worse than it need be.

For me Chester is one of the two courses in the country which I would not be upset about if I was told I could never go there again.

By a strange coincidence I was at the course with the second worse draw bias last week.

Beverley’s 5f course has a strong bias for high drawn runners, yet in one of the apprentice races over the 5f course one of the young riders actually managed to blow the advantage of a high draw.

Having been give a plum draw against the far rail the horse was slowly away and the rider panicked. Instead of waiting for the inevitable gap to appear as they passed the intersection the rider chose to switch towards the stands side to find daylight. Despite running on well the horse came home a never nearer fourth, whereas it may well have won had the rider stuck to the stands rail – oh well I suppose these apprentice races are there to help riders learn.

My visit to Beverley was also my first days racing after Royal Ascot and what a contrast in the crowd.

At Ascot we became accustomed to seeing the gentlemen in their top hat and tails, at Beverley the attire of the gentlemen was more football shirts, vests and even topless (a shame the latter did not apply to some of the ladies) but I tell you what – I bet they had as an enjoyable days racing as those who were in the Royal Enclosure a week before.

Who Needs A Gym?

I am the first to admit being a horse racing journalist is not the most physically demanding job in the world.

Indeed at courses like Newcastle you can actually report on a full afternoon’s racing without ever leaving your seat in the press room.

The press room at Newcastle overlooks the parade ring so you can see all the runners before the race. It also affords excellent viewing of the course so you can watch the racing in comfort. The only time you actually need to leave the press room is if you want to chat to any of the connections. A couch potatoes delight.

By contrast at Ascot there is a lot of walking around. It is a huge racecourse and the various facilities are spread out all over the place.

Last week at the Royal meeting I decided to wear a pedometer to see how far I actually walked each day. I turned it on when I arrived in the media centre and turned it off before I left each evening, so it didn’t include the journey from the car park.

At “normal” Ascot meetings the press get to park in car park 2, one of the best car parks, just opposite the west entrance.

At the Royal meeting we are in car park 2F which, on the face of it, sounds line the same car park.

The only common factor is you use the same gate to get into the car park. In reality the F stands for far away, we are consigned to parking in what is known as the donkey field, at the bottom of a steep hill.

So steep that it you arrive late then your car will be parked at an angle of around 30 degrees.

Now with modern technology we do not travel light, my Royal Ascot computer bag weighs around 30 lbs.

So Ascot supply a golf buggy which provides a shuttle service from the car park up to the High Street …. and it is really appreciated. It is also provided after racing but with gravity to assist doing the downhill journey is not so bad.

Well the supplied a golf buggy for the first two days, day three onwards it was missing – it has given up the ghost apparently.

I can tell you by the time I reached the top of the hill, lugging my bag, each morning I was (un)fit to drop, I was arriving in the media centre like a wheezing asthmatic.

I couldn’t really even lose anything from my bag to make it lighter.

For a big meeting like Ascot it roughly contains a laptop and power supply, two spare laptop batteries, assorted cables. One compact camera, one SLR camera with two extra lenses. Clipboard, 32 pens and other assorted stationery items, Dictaphone for recording interviews. Plus my books – the Ascot media guide (just over 100 sheets of A4), Horses In Training (720 pages), Rules Of Racing (501 pages) and a slim version of the Directory of The Turf (416 pages).

Not forgetting my trusty binoculars.

Anyway after the first two days the pedometer said I was walking around 5½ / 6 miles a day, which I thought was a little on the low side but who was I to argue with technology?

On the Thursday I finally ventured into the Silver Ring – an interesting experience. Funnily enough I was warned not to venture into the silver ring after mid-afternoon as it can get very “lively”. I can see why and if you see some of the post racing CCTV pictures your eyes would boggle. Apparently some impatient racegoers who cannot resist the “urge” don’t seem to realise the extent of the coverage of the CCTV cameras.

What struck me most of all in the silver ring is it was very much female oriented, something like 70 / 30 female to male (the only exception seemed to be the Saturday when it became 60 / 40 male).

When I checked my pedometer that evening it said I had done 6½ miles which I thought a bit odd, after having done two trips to the silver ring.

So on Friday morning I decided to test the pedometer. I walked from the finishing post down to the three furlong post and back – if you are poor at maths that is a total 6 furlongs or ¾ of mile.

The pedometer said I had only walked just under half a mile – so either Ascot have measured their track incorrectly (which could explain the fast times) or the pedometer was telling lies.

I’ll believe the latter, so rather than walking around 6 miles each day I was probably walking around 9 - 10 miles a day. No wonder I was tired each evening.

So next time somebody suggests I need to go to the gym I think I will have a days racing at Ascot instead.

A couple of good stories from the Royal meeting.

Apparently on Tuesday afternoon a lost wallet was handed in. When course officials went through the wallet in an attempt to find who it belonged to, not only did they find some id but also some wraps of, how shall I put it, some questionable substances. So when the owner responded to the PA announcement to reclaim their property, not only was their wallet waiting for them but also two of Thames Valley Police’s finest.

Now for a quiz question.

Who is the broadcaster who has received a text from a female ‘admirer’ (also a broadcaster) saying “you brighten up my day. Lol?”

The best part being he thought “lol” meant ’lots of love’ …… of course nobody told him otherwise, indeed it was even suggested to him he could be “in luck” and he ought to respond appropriately .

Finally …

Anybody who thinks being a police officer is all fast cars and flashing blue lights had better think again.

On Saturday morning, as had been the case every day this week, the police were finishing off their security sweeping of the stands as us early birds arrived.

I observed two officers emerge from the lavatories with full arm length gloves.

Yes the searches are that thorough!!!

Not The Best Of Weeks

It has been quite a week in this small racing world of ours. Normally the time between Epsom and Royal Ascot is a quiet period, a time to recharge batteries.

Not this week, we have had two stories dominating the sport as well as distractions from a competitive sport.

The story which has caused most concern in the racing village is the disappearance of commentator Doug Fraser. Last seen leaving his Leeds flat at 02:00 on Friday 4th June and nothing heard since. The alarm being raised when he failed to turn up to commentate at Hexham on Derby day.

As I write this on the day before Royal Ascot police in Leeds report they found a body in the River Aire yesterday afternoon. Although identification will not be confirmed until Wednesday police are as certain as they can be the body is that of Fraser.

The one "good" aspect of his body being found is at least his family and friends now know what has happened to him the uncertainly has gone. Although as time went on without sightings this result was inevitable.

There are still many unanswered questions, not least why? Perhaps we will never find out.

It is desperately sad news and I must admit I had a very sleepless night last night having heard the unconfirmed reports last night and I am not ashamed to admit I do have a tear rolling down my cheek as I write this.

The saddest part for me is that Doug was so well liked and was held is such affection. It is really sad to think that if he had something troubling him then he felt unable to talk to someone and share whatever it was that was worrying him - assuming something was playing on his mind.

I am actually hoping the post mortem shows something no more sinister than he wasn't feeling well, had gone for some fresh air and had a heart attack or something and fell in the river. We shall have to wait and see.

I had only met him a handful of times but found him to be a really quiet, pleasant man.

Many knew him far longer and a lot better than me my hear goes out to them and his family.

Rest in peace Dougie.

The other big news in the world of racing this week has been Harry Findlay being warned off for two years for laying his own horses. Many column inches have been written, some of it – especially in the Racing post – absolute rubbish.

He is, in some quarters, quarters which should know better, being made out as some poor hard done by individual.

He isn’t.

The rules are clear - he broke them, end of.

He could have received an 18 month ban so, arguably, he has got off lightly.

He is a professional gambler for goodness sake - to say he did not understand the rules just does not wash.

When it comes to gambling Findlay is one of the sharpest knives in the draw, he thought he could get away with it because of who he is – he has learned he can’t.

Now he is threatening to throw his toys out of the pram and walk away from British racing.

Well if he cannot play by the rules he will be no loss to the sport.

I have no axe to grind with Findlay but the fact he has brought a lot to the sport should have no bearing whatsoever. However how many punters have lost out due to some of his gambles?

Am I the only one sick to death with the World Cup?

I have absolutely no interest in a bunch of, overpaid, semi-literate yobs kicking a ball round a field (by all accounts not very well), yet there is nowhere to escape this blessed tournament.

Idiots are driving cars around, festooned with St George’s flags. Even worse is the sight of middle aged men, beer guts a plenty, walking round wearing the England football strip.

Do they not realise just how stupid they look? If they broke into anything faster than a brisk walk most of them would probably drop dead from a coronary.

Those who play the game at the highest level have a weekly wage that would make your eyes water, some earn in one week three times what a fully trained nurse or paramedic earns in a year. To me there is something wrong, obscene even with a society which condones this.

I have even been called unpatriotic for not supporting the England football team.

Let me assure you there are few more patriotic than me.

I support 100% our troops fighting unnecessary wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

I support the guys who put their lives on the line every time they step out to do their job. Who would support their comrades with their own lives.

I do not support a group of so called men whose idea of camaraderie is passing around some smitten tart for their own sexual gratification.

Where Is Doug?

Whilst most of the focus of the racing world was at Epsom on Saturday, there were happenings at Hexham which look as though they may have more sinister implications.

The commentator was missing.

Doug Fraser was due to call the races at the Northumberland course, a course where he regularly calls.

Doug has one of the most distinctive voices on the circuit, a Scottish accent with an adenoidal inflection.

However on Saturday his unique tones were not to be heard as he failed to arrive at the track. Somewhat out of character for Doug, as he is a conscientious type, always at the course in plenty of time.

Indeed last time I was at Hexham I arrived at the course three hours before racing and the only other person in the press room was Doug.

So no sign of Doug at Hexham and his colleagues were worried. Normally if a commentator cannot make a meeting they will ring one of their colleagues to cover for them or ring “head office”.

Doug did neither on Saturday and attempts to contact him on his mobile failed.

Concerned, his employers Racetech contacted the police on Saturday evening. Finding his car parked outside his Leeds flat and unable to get any answer, the police broke into his flat but there was no trace of Doug, although they did find his wallet, mobile phone and passport inside the flat.

Doug was last seen on Thursday and has not been seen since. It is totally out of character for him to go missing and his family and friends are not aware of his whereabouts.

I have only met Doug a handful of times and he is one of the quieter members of the press room, keeping himself to himself and his disappearance is a concern.

West Yorkshire Police have issued an appeal, which I now reproduce.

City and Holbeck Police are appealing for information to trace 54-year-old George Douglas Fraser, who was reported missing at the weekend.

Mr Fraser is a well-known racing commentator who is more commonly known as Doug, and was reported missing after he failed to attend Hexham Races on Saturday to fulfil his commentating commitments.

Officers have been carrying out numerous enquiries over the weekend to trace Mr Fraser and are becoming increasing concerned for his welfare as he has not been missing before.

He is described as white, around 6' tall, of medium build, with green eyes and a bald head with receding black-grey hair at the sides. He speaks with a Scottish accent.

Anyone with information is asked to contact City and Holbeck Police via 0845 6060606

It is worrying that Doug has been missing for so long and let us all hope he soon turns up safely.

Our thoughts are with his family and friends.

Alter Ego

Before I ramble off towards this weeks main theme let me first congratulate Ryan Moore on winning the Oaks / Derby double. Whilst not a unique achievement, it takes some doing nonetheless. Also the rides were contrasting in style, with the Oaks win on Snow Fairy being a perfect example of the equine equivalent of threading a needle, the Derby win was a case of not panicking in the face of unusual tactics.

In the past I have been critical of Moore and his poor PR image. Yesterday I spent some time in his company and I think his “communication problems” are more a matter of shyness than bloody mindedness. Anyway we would soon tire if every rider had the ebullience of Dettori.

At the end of the day I would rather a jockey did the talking with his riding and, in the case of Moore, that is an area in which he speaks loudly and clearly.

Talking of communication, I had an unsolicited e-mail from the USA this week. Unusually is wasn’t an abusive mail telling me I was talking out of my posterior.

This one was from a chap saying it was a long time since he had seen me and was asking if I was planning to tour again? The giveaway though was, how long had I been living in the UK?

It was then the penny dropped. He had Googled my name and had confused me with my namesake, who is, by all accounts, an excellent jazz saxophonist.

To confuse the pair of us would greatly amuse anybody who knows me well, as it is an indisputable fact I am tone deaf, have no musical ability and cannot hold a note of any kind.

Indeed I cannot even whistle in tune.

I am to singing or music what Les Dawson was to piano playing.

Anyway I wrote back to this chap pointing out his mistake and commenting on my lack of musical ability. It emerges he is a music teacher and he wrote back with a lovely response saying everyone has a latent musical talent, it just needs the right person to bring it out.

This confusion made me think about racing commentators and their namesakes.

I suppose I ought to deal with the most obvious racing example, namely Jim McGrath.

One is the former Timeform guru, stalwart of Channel Four Racing, and BHA director, known for making his astute observations with his eyes half closed. The other is the Australian born commentator, a breath of fresh air when he first arrived in the UK, but a commentator who some may, unfairly, say commentates with his eyes half closed on occasion.

Derek Thompson is a name to provoke strong reactions. The marmite man of racing and the racing broadcaster (along with Matt Chapman) who really polarises opinion. Either the most irritating thing to be found on the racecourse, even more irritating than those blessed flying beetles at Epsom, or the sort of person who can entertain or engage with the crowds and have them eating out of his hand. Or is Derek Thompson the actor who has been in Casualty since the first episode, playing Charlie Fairhead?

Perhaps, next time he is treating a patient, Charlie Fairhead could be given the line, “don’t worry, you’ll be OK big fella.”

Is Lee McKenzie the very sexy former presenter on the original At The Races or the racecourse commentator? Have they been seen in the same room together? (sorry Lee!!)

Fortunately the only thing I only have one thing in common with point-to-point expert and sometimes commentator Iain MacKenzie is that his namesake, like mine, is also a jazz musician. His being a UK based jazz /swing singer.

Continuing the musical theme Simon Holt’s alter-ego is a UK composer of contemporary classical music, whilst Mark Slater is also a contemporary British composer.

When I Googled Mark Johnson the first listing stated, “Mark Johnson was eight years old when he started to see a psychiatrist about his violent tendencies. That was the same year he first got drunk. ...” and I thought I was on to something really interesting, only to discover the article was about Mark Johnson the author of Wasted.

Perhaps he needs to visit Mark Johnson who is professor of philosophy at the University of Oregon, or is he also be Mark Johnson former top ice hockey star and now coach?

If you are into hot cars then Graham Goode is the man for you as Graham Goode Racing will hot tune your car for you, especially if it is a Subaru or Mitsubishi.

Finally Malcolm Tomlinson, another soap actor, star of Emmerdale, Eastenders and Hollyoaks.

Oh hang on – he really is the same one!!!!

Right I’m now off to find out just how good a saxophonist I really am.