There are very few compensations to the 4.30 alarm call....
But just occasionally being ahead of the game can be rewarding. This morning was one of those times. A thick fog cloaking the yard, all sound magnified tenfold, a similar feel to the fortnight of deep snow. And above the barns, the most eerie crescent moon that I have ever witnessed. If only I could paint...
Off to the "delights" of Southwell today and, after a quiet few days, we have three runners in three consecutive races. All three with chances, all three pretty exposed from a form perspective, the reality being that all three will probably get beat. But always good to pick up the Racing Post and be at the right end of the betting market - at least we are not overfacing our charges...
And the bonus of Southwell being the chance to raid the wooden hut behind the stands, crammed full with every type of sweet imaginable. I will go in there and pretend that I am in there on behalf of my children...
One of those "pinch me" moments yesterday - of which there have been a few in the past few months. At just after 8.30 yesterday morning, I am back in the house after first lot and walking past Candida's office door. A telephone that rings barely once a week rings as I am passing, and I pick it up. On the other end is one of my great sporting heros. To begin with, as we all do in situations like this, I was convinced that it was somebody "extracting the Michael"...
But this was the great man himself. A long chat and an agreement to meet up at the earliest opportunity. I put the telephone down, and wandered back up to the yard, grinning like that proverbial Cheshire cat...
Who was the great sporting hero? Don't keep us guessing!
Posted by: Rachel | March 20, 2009 at 03:43 AM