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Making Allowances
Chapter 15 Part 1
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I left it for a few days before I went to see Mum and Dad. Both were amazed at my news. Of course, the baby news was the first topic of conversation, Mum was euphoric, and rained questions, for a good half hour. Not surprisingly, Dad had more questions about the horse! Dad laughed and there was a bit of mickey-taking, as he said I would have to have both legs amputated if I was going to make the weight. When both parents had finally settled down again, Dad grew more serious and critical.
“I backed him at Sandown you know. I think the trip might have been a bit long. He ran quite well, but didn’t have anything in the tank over the last.”
“Yeah,” I recalled, “but he ran well for an eleven year old, didn’t he?”
“He might be past his best now,” reflected Dad, a little pessimistically, “but if you had him pin-fired, he’d probably give you some good sport for a couple of years.”
After a few minutes, he piped up again.
“I remember him winning the Arkle Challenge Trophy at Cheltenham, must be about three years ago, he blew ‘em away, Jupiter Raider, His Knibbs, the bloody lot.”
I smiled, remembering the way he had roared up the hill, still full of steam. After a few more minutes, back came Dad with another anecdote.
“Didn’t he beat that horse who won at Sandown, ran well in the Gold Cup, you know, er.. First of Many?”
“Yes, SGB Chase, the year after.”
“Yeah, I thought so, he was a little star…. You’ll have a lot of fun with him.”
I corrected him, “I hope that all of us will have a lot of fun with him.”
I don’t recall any official agreement to do so, but we kept the horse with Dennis, and I left Dennis to take care of the arrangements. The first time I ran him as his owner was in a modest two and a half mile Handicap Chase at Market Rasen in late October. The autumn weather had been quite kind, and I was relieved that race day was a brilliantly sunny one. I wanted the first time to be special, particularly for Ellie, because it was likely that she would not see much of the later action.
I got badges for Mum and Dad, whilst Clare, Jenny and Tim all went with Uncle Paul. I was surprised to run into Uncle Ray and Uncle Maurice, during the early afternoon, I felt warmed by the fact that they and Uncle Paul, in particular, had trekked all the way to Lincolnshire to support my first outing as an owner. It was quite a hike.
I had not concentrated much on the rest of the racing, instead I had kept a check on how things were going behind the scenes. I had taken the precaution of asking Dennis if I was going to make a nuisance of myself by doing so, but he didn’t seem to mind.
Nearer the time of the race I had a quick look at the ante-post betting. Loch Naver Lad, in the face of largely moderate opposition, would start as favourite. As far as the bookies were concerned, the only real threat from the field of eight runners was likely to come from a useful ex-hurdler called So Square. Strangely, I did not feel inclined to have a wager on this first outing, even though I felt that he represented good value, even at 9 to 4 favourite.
I had felt small swells of pride looking at the race-card, seeing my name in print as the owner, the colours I had chosen (orange and black, as a sort of “mark of respect” for the efforts of Uncle Ray’s venture, when we had run horses in my Grandfather’s name). Nothing, however, compared to the surge of pride I felt when the time came for the owners to enter the parade ring. There I was, surrounded by my own family, ready to start yet another adventure in the big old game of racing. I reflected for a moment on how awkward I had felt as a youth all those years ago, drenched in a tatty greatcoat with my broken binoculars, and thought how odd this man, in the tailored suit, would have seemed to that youth.
Loch Naver Lad sauntered around the ring, head characteristically bowed, I watched the affectionate smiles follow him around the ring and felt a fuzzy, warm glow. The bell rang from the changing rooms and out came the jockeys, Ryan Kellett, now first jockey at Dennis’s yard scuttled out to meet up with us, he touched his cap and smiled a broad, broken smile.
“Let’s get you off to a winning start, sir,” he murmured to me with a confident wink,
“I’ve got a good feeling about him today.”
“Aye, he’s been going like a dream on the gallops,” said Dennis, “I don’t think there’s too much to worry about here.”
I was surprised by their confidence.
“What about So Square?”
“Yeah but he makes mistakes,” said Ryan Kellett dismissively, “this ‘un doesn’t.”
We had a good view of the tight little circuit. I was glad to have brought the family, as they provided a much needed diversion in the last ten minutes or so before the start. Clare joked about our humble beginnings as race-goers, and made a very valid comment when Mum asked me why I did not seem nervous.
“Nothing could be worse than how we used to feel when Dad rode, wondering whether Dad was going to escape an injury or not.”
Dad looked a little hurt.
“It is true though,” I agreed.
It was only when Dad related to Tim that he had put fifty pounds down on the nose, that I began to feel responsible, and then nervous.
“What did you do that for?” I asked him.
“Cos’ he’s going to win I hope,” Dad replied.
I sighed. “Aww come on,” he joked, “You’d be disappointed if he didn’t, even with you on him!!”
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If you would like to contact Richie, please email him at: richie@baylands.fsnet.co.uk
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