The Shadow

CLOUDY LANE TO SHINE

27 February 2009

When people meet me for the first time and discover who I am, the most often asked question is who is the big time hoss owner and world class tight arse you have written about so much in the past?    

Actually I have not written about him that frequently but I did write the story of our meeting at the Cheltenham Festival the year Cool Ground won. I was still very much on my uppers in those days.

I had only just been rescued from the gutters of Newmarket by the founder of the Southwark News and I was far from being the rich and happy man I am today.

I had made it to Cheltenham by bumming a ride on James Fanshawe's transporter and I had just fifty quid in my sky which I had scraped together from my only paid work which was pulling supermarket trolleys out of the river at fifty pence a pop.

A hundred trolleys I had pulled out of the river to get those fifty sovs and it was hard, wet, cold, dirty work. As I was
about to go through the turnstiles with my pre-paid ticket, my mega rich mate appears on the scene and has no dough to get it. Without further ado he taps me for forty quid with the promise to pay me once he has cashed a cheque at the racing office.  

Of course he never did pay me and has not paid me to this  day.
To rub salt into the wounds my bankroll was to back Cool Ground which I was not able to do and of course the hoss won at 33-1. My mate who had bummed his entrance money from me actually had one of his hosses win that very day.

To say that I have never forgiven him for that day is an understatement.
The reason I mention him is because I bumped into him again at the charity meeting at Fontwell the other day.

There was a fund raising lunch organized by the society which finds homes for retired hosses and it is very close to my own heart. I chipped in a couple of grand to the very worthwhile cause while my erstwhile mate sitting at the next table donated a big fat nothing.

This is a man the same age as myself who has a hoss in the top five in the antepost betting for the Grand National and has twice topped the table of  National Hunt prizemoney winners.  

When we did get round to speaking to each other all he wanted to do was moan about the state of the country.

His particular complaint was that his wife had had a hip replacement operation - on the National Health of course - and he had been left to do some chores at home normally done by his wife.   He was absolutely outraged that he had been obliged to go to Forest Heath (Newmarket) council three times to get them to send people up to his residence to look after him. 

This is a man who does not have a good word to say about this country or its people or its government and who would have Gordon Brown hanged drawn and quartered. A man whose hosses alone must be worth five or six million quid moaning because the council had to be asked three times to provide him with carers to look after him - him, not his wife.

All of this I mention because it tells us all that nowhere is the world a fair place, least of all the world of hoss racing.
Looking ahead to the racing at the weekend  my eye is caught by Alan King's Ouzbeck.

The hoss has fallen twice in his last two outings but the trainer is confident that it was all due to the gelding being too fresh and believes we will see a better jumping display from his charge in the totesport Gold Cup at Newbury on Saturday.

The hoss which could well be my selection for the Grand National Cloudy Lane is booked to travel to Kelso for the Berrymoss Chase. Sixth in last year's

National trainer Donald McCain has the gelding also entered at Doncaster on Saturday but states the preference is for the Kelso race. Wherever he runs he should win.

When people meet me for the first time and discover who I am, the most often asked question is who is the big time hoss owner and world class tight arse you have written about so much in the past?

Actually I have not written about him that frequently but I did write the story of our meeting at the Cheltenham Festival the year Cool Ground won.

I was still very much on my uppers in those days. I had only just been rescued from the gutters of Newmarket by the founder of the Southwark News and I was far from being the rich and happy man I am today.

I had made it to Cheltenham by bumming a ride on James Fanshawe's transporter and I had just fifty quid in my sky which I had scraped together from my only paid work which was pulling supermarket trolleys out of the river at fifty pence a pop. A hundred trolleys I had pulled out of the river to get those fifty sovs and it was hard, wet, cold, dirty work.

As I was about to go through the turnstiles with my pre-paid ticket, my mega rich mate appears on the scene and has no dough to get it.   Without further ado he taps me for forty quid with the promise to pay me once he has cashed a cheque at the racing office.   Of course he never did pay me and has not paid me to this day.   To rub salt into the wounds my bankroll was to back Cool Ground which I was not able to do and of course the hoss won at 33-1.
My mate who had bummed his entrance money from me actually had one of his hosses win that very day. To say that I have never forgiven him for that day is an understatement.

The reason I mention him is because I bumped into him again at the charity meeting at Fontwell the other day.   There was a fund raising lunch organized by the society which finds homes for retired hosses and it is very close to my own heart. I chipped in a couple of grand to  the very worthwhile cause while my erstwhile mate sitting at the next table donated a big fat nothing.

This is a man the same age as myself  who has a hoss in the top five in the antepost betting for the Grand National and has twice topped the table of  National Hunt prizemoney winners.  

When we did get round to speaking to each other all he wanted to do was moan about the state of the country.   His particular complaint was that his wife had had a hip replacement operation - on the National Health of course - and he had been left to do some chores at home normally done by his wife. He was absolutely outraged that he had been obliged to go to Forest Heath (Newmarket) council three times to get them to send people up to his residence to look after him.

 This is a man who does not have a good word to say about this country or its people or its government and who would have Gordon Brown hanged drawn and quartered. A man whose hosses alone must be worth five or six million quid moaning because the council had to be asked three times to provide him with carers to look after him - him, not his wife.

All of this I mention because it tells us all that nowhere is the world a fair place, least of all the world of hoss racing.
Looking ahead to the racing at the weekend  my eye is caught by Alan King's Ouzbeck.

The hoss has fallen twice in his last two outings but the trainer is confident that it was all due to the gelding being too fresh and believes we will see a better jumping display from his charge in the totesport Gold Cup at Newbury on Saturday.  

The hoss which could well be my selection for the Grand National Cloudy Lane is booked to travel to Kelso for the Berrymoss Chase.   Sixth in last year's National trainer Donald McCain has the gelding also entered at Doncaster on Saturday but states the preference is for the Kelso race. Wherever he runs he should win

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