I dont go to many racecourses (except Ayr, been loads of times) when I do go I keep my racecard if I have had a good day, so I decided to look them out, found 4 (says it all really) anyway I looked at notes I had made on the racecard when I went to the 2000 guineas in 1993.
The day was a case of the "The Good The Bad and The Ugly", I dont usually do anti-post bets but I really fancied Zafonic, I had 4 anti-post bets on it the most I had ever bet on a horse and I remember John McCririck kept saying "This thing will never get beat"
I remember sitting in the pub with my mate on the Thursday and after a wee drink or two come to the decision "Were going to Newmarket", we drove down through the night on the Friday, 6/7 hrs later were there. The place was buzzin, it was about 9am and we were moochin about trying to get tips , this guy tells us to go to the back room of this pub (cant remember the name), Im about 5ft 9 I felt like a giant when I walked in the room all these wee people trying to sell tips it was surreal, rambling on a wee bit so back to my racecard notes.
The Good, Had 2 big bets that day, decided to put everything I had Zafonic (Drink, food, petrol money the lot), just before the off I think there was thunder and lighting and Zafinoc got spooked so it drifted a wee bit out to 6/5 lumped eveything on it, won easy. My fav horse was running in the next race "Lochsong" bet it e/w 13/2 finished 3rd.
The Bad, I decided to put the lot on Canaska Star 15/8 fav, to this day I dont know why I bet it,( Well I think drink had a lot to do with it) Eddery was on it but it had no real form, but I knew I had my anti-post betting slips up the road so whacked eveything on it, had every chance but got bumped finished 6th, gutted really gutted I am sure I had a tear in my eye after that.
some remenieces from George Duffield that you might enjoy reading
Jokers in the pack
I ABSOLUTELY adore being in the weighing room. Sir Mark Prescott thinks we jockeys behave like a bunch of silly schoolgirls at a hockey match. We probably do. But I love it all the same, I really do. Put me in an office and I'd be in prison.
I'm 55 and still doing all manner of stupid things. I've got the mentality of a kid, which is probably one of the reasons I'm still riding today. I love messing around. Tony Clark and me are desperate.
`Clarky' and me are shameless. We'll cut the feet out of socks, tie knots in shirtsleeves, cut ties in half, put lead weights in bags, all kinds of puerile things.
It's like being back at school, but that's why we're all jockeys, I suppose, because we're all kids at heart. Jockeys never grow up.
Most people think of us as adult kids. We're small, fit and active. We're silly little schoolboys who actually do professional jobs. You can't believe how much fun we have in the weighing room and I love each and every minute of it!
Prankster-in chief is Philip Robinson. One day at Yarmouth, Philip and me tried to superglue Michael Roberts to the floor. But we couldn't get him to stand long enough on the spot where we'd placed the glue!
Philip used to drive Michael Roberts demented at one stage. He'd put itching powder in his underpants or inside his shirt, cut his tie in half, pour water in his shoes. Philip was a complete ****. I'd have hit him, but Michael Roberts is not the kind of guy to bear a grudge.
He's full of fun himself and would enjoy a laugh and a joke with the best, but for some reason he brought out the worst in Robbo.
He just loved annoying Michael and because he knew he was annoying Michael that only made him worse.
Robbo is a practical joker, full stop. A right pain in the **** . . . [but] you'll no doubt be pleased to hear that occasionally the biter himself has been bitten.
Sir Mark Prescott once rang Robbo to ask him about his views on field sports: he'd already rung me and the two Hills boys. Well, it was getting late when Sir Mark called and Robbo was in bed.
"Hello Philip, Sir Mark Prescott here."
Robbo automatically thinks, "No it isn't! It's ****ing Duffield trying to wind me up! '
"Philip, I'm conducting a survey on field sports, and I know you do a bit of shooting and hunting. Could I have your views on the subject?"
"Well," says Robbo, "what I really like is being in the middle of a field with my missus, giving her a good shagging with a cow licking my ****!" The phone goes dead.
Robbo dials my number. "You ****ing ****, ****ing field sports!"
"What?"
"****ing field sports, ringing me up at this time of night!"
"It wasn't me, it was Sir Mark. He's been ringing up everybody about it. Ring the Hills twins, they'll tell you."
"Oh, ****! What am I gonna do?"
"Ring Sir Mark and apologise, he'll understand."
"Not ****ing likely!"
I don't think Robbo got a ride off Sir Mark for years after that little incident!
Lindsay Charnock, on the other hand, drove people crazy with his ****-taking instead of resorting to pranks or slapstick.
Lindsay's preferred victim was Pat Eddery - no mean ****-taker himself - but his favourite pastime of all was to read out aloud the latest statistics in the paper to embarrass whoever was on the longest losing streak, usually some kid, though, top or bottom of the scale, it didn't matter to Lindsay.
Then he'd wander over to his prey - whose confidence must be rock-bottom - and say: "A hundred rides without a win, you know - could be 102 after today!"
That's the last thing anyone wants to be reminded of. Then, after the race, Lindsay would go back and say: "102!" Mind you, if Lindsay ever went even ten or 12 without a win these kids would be on his back in the same vein!
Willie Carson - a changed man
Although Pat Eddery has not changed from day one in spite of all his success, Willie Carson did undergo a change of character.
I've known Willie since I arrived in Newmarket as a kid. The first time I met him was on Ely station when I was going home on holiday and he was travelling up to Lanark.
I got on well with Willie. There were nights when I bathed his kids - Tony, Neil and Ross - and he held some serious card schools at his house in Newmarket involving me, Paul Tulk, Eric Eldin, Taffy Thomas and Kipper Lynch.
As he became more successful we drifted apart. Unlike Pat, he got to be hard to communicate with and you'd struggle to have a conversation with him in the weighing room.
As jockeys go, you'd be hard-pressed to find one better. He developed into a helluva jockey, a serious jockey and one of the best, but as a human being he became prickly and, at times, very arrogant.
Whether this change had anything to do with getting the job at **** Hern's, I don't know. All I can say is that I found Major Hern and John Dunlop - who Willie rode for a lot - two of the easiest men to ride for alongside Sir Mark Prescott. They were both gentlemen and a pleasure to ride for.
The weighing room acts as our sanctuary. We all feel safe in there and can be ourselves. Kieren Fallon, for example, has this dour image but he's far more himself in the weighing room, where he feels more secure and he is perfectly adept at having a giggle.
I wasn't present at Beverley to see Fallon **** Stuart Webster's nose, but down the years I have enjoyed a ringside seat for the odd bout of fisticuffs in the weighing room. They are never that serious, merely spur-of-the-moment affairs, a quick slap or a punch.
The first man I came across who wouldn't take any messing about was Eric Eldin. Regardless of who you were, he was a man to dish it out.
But the real tough guy was Geoff Baxter.
Geoff was a decent jockey who had loads of success, firstly with Arthur Budgett on the likes of old Prominent, and later with Bruce Hobbs, for whom he won his Group 1 on Count Pahlen in the 1981 William Hill Futurity (the forerunner of the Racing Post Trophy), and he excelled on the Group-winning fillies Vielle and Acclimatise, who both finished second in the Oaks. He also collected two Group sprints for Doug Marks
on Singing Bede.
But the one thing Geoff could really do was fight. He could handle himself, could Geoff. I saw him floor Colin Moss one day at Leicester, and watched him flatten an apprentice who was giving him plenty of mouth at Warwick.
"Do yourself a favour and shut up!" Geoff had warned him.
When the kid took no notice, Geoff dragged him into the toilets and laid him out with one punch. "Now ****ing shut up!" he said. You did not **** around with Geoff. If he hit you, you knew you'd been ****ing hit!
Geoff never backed down. It didn't matter who you were. Ask Lester. I was there the day Geoff poleaxed him.
The venue was Newmarket. As we were all cantering down to the start of this race, I could see Geoff's mount was giving him trouble as it came past me - fly-lepping and what-not - and so he tried to run it up behind Lester's horse to stop it.
This animal clattered into the back of Lester's and, as Geoff goes by, Lester turns in the saddle and thumps him right in the chops.
Had he realised the identity of his victim, Lester may have held his temper! As it was, you can imagine the force of the impact at that speed.
Once the pair of them reached the gate there was a bit of a set-to. Lester jumped off and, foolishly perhaps, challenged Geoff to get down and sort it out there and then.
Lester might have scaled a good 7lb heavier than Geoff at any weigh-in and possessed a longer reach, but there was only going to be one winner in this contest - and it wasn't going
to require any decision from the judges!
Geoff looked down at Lester and said ever so quietly: "Not now. When we get back to the weighing room I'm going to ****ing hammer you. Then we'll sort it out."
True to his word, Geoff strode purposefully into the weighing room, put his saddle down, took off his colours, marched over to Lester - and whacked him, sitting Lester right on his ****.
Lester went to get up and Geoff said: "If you get up, I'll kill you! And if you want to go into the car park and finish it off, that's fine by me."
In his infinite wisdom, Lester declined Geoff's kind offer!
I used to punt on the dogs, too, & always had the same bet, which would be reverse forecast doubles on Traps 1 & 6 in an 8 race card, so that was 112 bets. Started off doing them for a penny (old penny), then moved up to 10p (new money) so £11.20. God knows how much I lost over the years, though this was 50 years ago before I learned what a mug bet it was.
My Dad loved all those weird accas - Heinz, Yankee, Super Yankee, Trixie, Round Robin. The bookies loved them even more of course.....
Used to take stacks of TTC dog doubles every saturday morning at Hackney Wick when it was 8 races (112 reversed forecast doubles). The introduction of 10, 12 and eventually 14 race cards sounded the death knell for through the card forecast doubles. Punters just didn't want to pay for the 180, 264 or 364 bets. The alternative was to do the first 8 or last 8 races which led to inevitable near misses. Putting Crayford on, on Saturday mornings also diluted things.
G, Thanks for reminding me of round robin, i used to do that too and like your dad with up and downs I could never work out what returns I would get . When they paid me out more than I thought they should i kept quiet and when lower i queried it. Seem to remember i could then work them out properly but would nt bet on it.
I was trained to settle bets in a Ladbrokes shop in Bexhill East Sussex many years ago. Most conditional, or any to come bets were popular in the north, but almost unheard of south of the midlands.
We had a customer who used to do a rounder bet every day. My trainer used to wait until he came to the counter each morning. Luckily the customer would write what he thought the returns were on his slip. If he wrote £5.12, he would just say "£5.16 John", "that's about right" the customer would say. Job done.
G, Thanks for reminding me of round robin, i used to do that too and like your dad with up and downs I could never work out what returns I would get . When they paid me out more than I thought they should i kept quiet and when lower i queried it. Seem to remember i could then work them out properly but would nt bet on it.
I was trained to settle bets in a Ladbrokes shop in Bexhill East Sussex many years ago. Most conditional, or any to come bets were popular in the north, but almost unheard of south of the midlands.
We had a customer who used to do a rounder bet every day. My trainer used to wait until he came to the counter each morning. Luckily the customer would write what he thought the returns were on his slip. If he wrote £5.12, he would just say "£5.16 John", "that's about right" the customer would say. Job done.
LOL and thanks for reminding me Saturday Mornings were also Crayford. Never did as well on those races as I did at Hackney.
So, intoxicated by the whole atmo of betting shops, I got myself a Saturday Job as Board Marker in a Betting Shop owned by an elderly Jewish chap in Harrow.
No screens or anything, so we used white sheets pinned to the wall & I'd write up the prices, update them, & then the results. All the results would be written on a white market board with coloured felt tip pens.
I got into trouble though with the owner, as I had a fascination with numbers &, as a young man, I was full of myself, & thought I could change the world.
And here's the thing. I'm not into decimal odds, fractional odds are my thing, but there was an anomaly then in fractional odds which exists to this day.
You may not have noticed, but in betting parlance, "odds" are always reduced to the lowest common denominator. We say 11/10, not 22/20, 11/8 not 22/16, 5/4 not 10/8, 2/1 not 4/2. Right? Right. No exceptions.
EXCEPT 6/4. WTF? Why is it 6/4 & not 3/2?
So I'd write 3/2 instead of 6/4 on the Results Board. Then punters started complaining, "oi, I took 6/4, not 3/2".......
To this day, I've never understood why we use 6/4 & not 3/2.
I used to love board marking. As soon as the last race forecast was announced you could go home. No till to settle up or punters to payout. The winner in red, places in blue and forecasts in green if I remember right.
Jackson and Lowe springs to mind. Was that just the marker sheet, or the odds sheets too?
The buzz when the TV screens were installed was incredible. Only racing on terrestrial tv shown initially, but it beat the video tapes we used to show around three days after the event.
G, Thanks for reminding me of round robin, i used to do that too and like your dad with up and downs I could never work out what returns I would get . When they paid me out more than I thought they should i kept quiet and when lower i queried it. Seem to remember i could then work them out properly but would nt bet on it.
I was trained to settle bets in a Ladbrokes shop in Bexhill East Sussex many years ago. Most conditional, or any to come bets were popular in the north, but almost unheard of south of the midlands.
We had a customer who used to do a rounder bet every day. My trainer used to wait until he came to the counter each morning. Luckily the customer would write what he thought the returns were on his slip. If he wrote £5.12, he would just say "£5.16 John", "that's about right" the customer would say. Job done.
LOL and thanks for reminding me Saturday Mornings were also Crayford. Never did as well on those races as I did at Hackney.
Was it Crayford (or maybe Catford?) that held 8 dog races? Seem to remember that Trap 7 was "the green dog" & Trap 8 was the "yellow dog".
Oh, & thanks for all the George Duffield stuff. Learned more about him reading that then I ever knew.
So, intoxicated by the whole atmo of betting shops, I got myself a Saturday Job as Board Marker in a Betting Shop owned by an elderly Jewish chap in Harrow.
No screens or anything, so we used white sheets pinned to the wall & I'd write up the prices, update them, & then the results. All the results would be written on a white market board with coloured felt tip pens.
I got into trouble though with the owner, as I had a fascination with numbers &, as a young man, I was full of myself, & thought I could change the world.
And here's the thing. I'm not into decimal odds, fractional odds are my thing, but there was an anomaly then in fractional odds which exists to this day.
You may not have noticed, but in betting parlance, "odds" are always reduced to the lowest common denominator. We say 11/10, not 22/20, 11/8 not 22/16, 5/4 not 10/8, 2/1 not 4/2. Right? Right. No exceptions.
EXCEPT 6/4. WTF? Why is it 6/4 & not 3/2?
So I'd write 3/2 instead of 6/4 on the Results Board. Then punters started complaining, "oi, I took 6/4, not 3/2".......
To this day, I've never understood why we use 6/4 & not 3/2.
I used to love board marking. As soon as the last race forecast was announced you could go home. No till to settle up or punters to payout. The winner in red, places in blue and forecasts in green if I remember right.
Jackson and Lowe springs to mind. Was that just the marker sheet, or the odds sheets too?
The buzz when the TV screens were installed was incredible. Only racing on terrestrial tv shown initially, but it beat the video tapes we used to show around three days after the event.
Board Marking was the most fun ever. Don't quite know why, but I loved it.
Pretty sure Jackson & Lowe did the "tissue" every day.
Another nail in the coffin of the TTC forecast doubles. They would only do around 4 races on each card so you couldn't include trap 7 or trap 8 in your bet, but you could be sure one or two of them would get in the frame to mess your bet up.
G, Thanks for reminding me of round robin, i used to do that too and like your dad with up and downs I could never work out what returns I would get . When they paid me out more than I thought they should i kept quiet and when lower i queried it. Seem to remember i could then work them out properly but would nt bet on it.
I was trained to settle bets in a Ladbrokes shop in Bexhill East Sussex many years ago. Most conditional, or any to come bets were popular in the north, but almost unheard of south of the midlands.
We had a customer who used to do a rounder bet every day. My trainer used to wait until he came to the counter each morning. Luckily the customer would write what he thought the returns were on his slip. If he wrote £5.12, he would just say "£5.16 John", "that's about right" the customer would say. Job done.
LOL and thanks for reminding me Saturday Mornings were also Crayford. Never did as well on those races as I did at Hackney.
Was it Crayford (or maybe Catford?) that held 8 dog races? Seem to remember that Trap 7 was "the green dog" & Trap 8 was the "yellow dog".
Oh, & thanks for all the George Duffield stuff. Learned more about him reading that then I ever knew.
Pretty sure it was Crayford that they first trialled 8 dog races, on a Saturday morning in the late eighties or early nineties I believe. Taken from the USA I believe where 8 dog racing was standard. Also to encourage E/W punting. The 7 trap was indeed green and the 8 trap was kinda funny pinky colour (I think it was formally yellow and black stripes, but I do seem to remember it looking pink like.) Unless I am muddling up with the US.
In the US trap 7 was green with white stripes and trap 8 pink. I lived in Colorado Springs for a while and they had a track there. All 8 dog races and people would try and get the "superfecta" first 4 home in correct order and it would often roll over to the next race. Quite interesting from a statistical perspective when the pool got big. I remember a group of us doing a large perm leaving out a 33/1 shot and a 16/1 shot that finished 1st and 3rd, opps! The odds were digital of course so I use the 33/1 and 16/1 broadly.
Comments
The day was a case of the "The Good The Bad and The Ugly", I dont usually do anti-post bets but I really fancied Zafonic, I had 4 anti-post bets on it the most I had ever bet on a horse and I remember John McCririck kept saying "This thing will never get beat"
I remember sitting in the pub with my mate on the Thursday and after a wee drink or two come to the decision "Were going to Newmarket", we drove down through the night on the Friday, 6/7 hrs later were there. The place was buzzin, it was about 9am and we were moochin about trying to get tips , this guy tells us to go to the back room of this pub (cant remember the name), Im about 5ft 9 I felt like a giant when I walked in the room all these wee people trying to sell tips it was surreal, rambling on a wee bit so back to my racecard notes.
The Good,
Had 2 big bets that day, decided to put everything I had Zafonic (Drink, food, petrol money the lot), just before the off I think there was thunder and lighting and Zafinoc got spooked so it drifted a wee bit out to 6/5 lumped eveything on it, won easy.
My fav horse was running in the next race "Lochsong" bet it e/w 13/2 finished 3rd.
The Bad,
I decided to put the lot on Canaska Star 15/8 fav, to this day I dont know why I bet it,( Well I think drink had a lot to do with it) Eddery was on it but it had no real form, but I knew I had my anti-post betting slips up the road so whacked eveything on it, had every chance but got bumped finished 6th, gutted really gutted I am sure I had a tear in my eye after that.
The ugly,
Met John McCririck.
some remenieces from George Duffield that you might enjoy reading
Jokers in the pack
I ABSOLUTELY adore being in the weighing room. Sir Mark Prescott thinks we jockeys behave like a bunch of silly schoolgirls at a hockey match. We probably do. But I love it all the same, I really do. Put me in an office and I'd be in prison.
I'm 55 and still doing all manner of stupid things. I've got the mentality of a kid, which is probably one of the reasons I'm still riding today. I love messing around. Tony Clark and me are desperate.
`Clarky' and me are shameless. We'll cut the feet out of socks, tie knots in shirtsleeves, cut ties in half, put lead weights in bags, all kinds of puerile things.
It's like being back at school, but that's why we're all jockeys, I suppose, because we're all kids at heart. Jockeys never grow up.
Most people think of us as adult kids. We're small, fit and active. We're silly little schoolboys who actually do professional jobs. You can't believe how much fun we have in the weighing room and I love each and every minute of it!
Prankster-in chief is Philip Robinson. One day at Yarmouth, Philip and me tried to superglue Michael Roberts to the floor. But we couldn't get him to stand long enough on the spot where we'd placed the glue!
Philip used to drive Michael Roberts demented at one stage. He'd put itching powder in his underpants or inside his shirt, cut his tie in half, pour water in his shoes. Philip was a complete ****. I'd have hit him, but Michael Roberts is not the kind of guy to bear a grudge.
He's full of fun himself and would enjoy a laugh and a joke with the best, but for some reason he brought out the worst in Robbo.
He just loved annoying Michael and because he knew he was annoying Michael that only made him worse.
Robbo is a practical joker, full stop. A right pain in the **** . . . [but] you'll no doubt be pleased to hear that occasionally the biter himself has been bitten.
Sir Mark Prescott once rang Robbo to ask him about his views on field sports: he'd already rung me and the two Hills boys. Well, it was getting late when Sir Mark called and Robbo was in bed.
"Hello Philip, Sir Mark Prescott here."
Robbo automatically thinks, "No it isn't! It's ****ing Duffield trying to wind me up! '
"Philip, I'm conducting a survey on field sports, and I know you do a bit of shooting and hunting. Could I have your views on the subject?"
"Well," says Robbo, "what I really like is being in the middle of a field with my missus, giving her a good shagging with a cow licking my ****!" The phone goes dead.
Robbo dials my number. "You ****ing ****, ****ing field sports!"
"What?"
"****ing field sports, ringing me up at this time of night!"
"It wasn't me, it was Sir Mark. He's been ringing up everybody about it. Ring the Hills twins, they'll tell you."
"Oh, ****! What am I gonna do?"
"Ring Sir Mark and apologise, he'll understand."
"Not ****ing likely!"
I don't think Robbo got a ride off Sir Mark for years after that little incident!
Lindsay Charnock, on the other hand, drove people crazy with his ****-taking instead of resorting to pranks or slapstick.
Lindsay's preferred victim was Pat Eddery - no mean ****-taker himself - but his favourite pastime of all was to read out aloud the latest statistics in the paper to embarrass whoever was on the longest losing streak, usually some kid, though, top or bottom of the scale, it didn't matter to Lindsay.
Then he'd wander over to his prey - whose confidence must be rock-bottom - and say: "A hundred rides without a win, you know - could be 102 after today!"
That's the last thing anyone wants to be reminded of. Then, after the race, Lindsay would go back and say: "102!" Mind you, if Lindsay ever went even ten or 12 without a win these kids would be on his back in the same vein!
Willie Carson - a changed man
Although Pat Eddery has not changed from day one in spite of all his success, Willie Carson did undergo a change of character.
I've known Willie since I arrived in Newmarket as a kid. The first time I met him was on Ely station when I was going home on holiday and he was travelling up to Lanark.
I got on well with Willie. There were nights when I bathed his kids - Tony, Neil and Ross - and he held some serious card schools at his house in Newmarket involving me, Paul Tulk, Eric Eldin, Taffy Thomas and Kipper Lynch.
As he became more successful we drifted apart. Unlike Pat, he got to be hard to communicate with and you'd struggle to have a conversation with him in the weighing room.
As jockeys go, you'd be hard-pressed to find one better. He developed into a helluva jockey, a serious jockey and one of the best, but as a human being he became prickly and, at times, very arrogant.
Whether this change had anything to do with getting the job at **** Hern's, I don't know. All I can say is that I found Major Hern and John Dunlop - who Willie rode for a lot - two of the easiest men to ride for alongside Sir Mark Prescott. They were both gentlemen and a pleasure to ride for.
The weighing room acts as our sanctuary. We all feel safe in there and can be ourselves. Kieren Fallon, for example, has this dour image but he's far more himself in the weighing room, where he feels more secure and he is perfectly adept at having a giggle.
Fighting talk
I wasn't present at Beverley to see Fallon **** Stuart Webster's nose, but down the years I have enjoyed a ringside seat for the odd bout of fisticuffs in the weighing room. They are never that serious, merely spur-of-the-moment affairs, a quick slap or a punch.
The first man I came across who wouldn't take any messing about was Eric Eldin. Regardless of who you were, he was a man to dish it out.
But the real tough guy was Geoff Baxter.
Geoff was a decent jockey who had loads of success, firstly with Arthur Budgett on the likes of old Prominent, and later with Bruce Hobbs, for whom he won his Group 1 on Count Pahlen in the 1981 William Hill Futurity (the forerunner of the Racing Post Trophy), and he excelled on the Group-winning fillies Vielle and Acclimatise, who both finished second in the Oaks. He also collected two Group sprints for Doug Marks
on Singing Bede.
But the one thing Geoff could really do was fight. He could handle himself, could Geoff. I saw him floor Colin Moss one day at Leicester, and watched him flatten an apprentice who was giving him plenty of mouth at Warwick.
"Do yourself a favour and shut up!" Geoff had warned him.
When the kid took no notice, Geoff dragged him into the toilets and laid him out with one punch. "Now ****ing shut up!" he said. You did not **** around with Geoff. If he hit you, you knew you'd been ****ing hit!
Geoff never backed down. It didn't matter who you were. Ask Lester. I was there the day Geoff poleaxed him.
The venue was Newmarket. As we were all cantering down to the start of this race, I could see Geoff's mount was giving him trouble as it came past me - fly-lepping and what-not - and so he tried to run it up behind Lester's horse to stop it.
This animal clattered into the back of Lester's and, as Geoff goes by, Lester turns in the saddle and thumps him right in the chops.
Had he realised the identity of his victim, Lester may have held his temper! As it was, you can imagine the force of the impact at that speed.
Once the pair of them reached the gate there was a bit of a set-to. Lester jumped off and, foolishly perhaps, challenged Geoff to get down and sort it out there and then.
Lester might have scaled a good 7lb heavier than Geoff at any weigh-in and possessed a longer reach, but there was only going to be one winner in this contest - and it wasn't going
to require any decision from the judges!
Geoff looked down at Lester and said ever so quietly: "Not now. When we get back to the weighing room I'm going to ****ing hammer you. Then we'll sort it out."
True to his word, Geoff strode purposefully into the weighing room, put his saddle down, took off his colours, marched over to Lester - and whacked him, sitting Lester right on his ****.
Lester went to get up and Geoff said: "If you get up, I'll kill you! And if you want to go into the car park and finish it off, that's fine by me."
In his infinite wisdom, Lester declined Geoff's kind offer!
Most conditional, or any to come bets were popular in the north, but almost unheard of south of the midlands.
We had a customer who used to do a rounder bet every day. My trainer used to wait until he came to the counter each morning. Luckily the customer would write what he thought the returns were on his slip. If he wrote £5.12, he would just say "£5.16 John", "that's about right" the customer would say. Job done.
Jackson and Lowe springs to mind. Was that just the marker sheet, or the odds sheets too?
The buzz when the TV screens were installed was incredible. Only racing on terrestrial tv shown initially, but it beat the video tapes we used to show around three days after the event.
Oh, & thanks for all the George Duffield stuff. Learned more about him reading that then I ever knew.
Pretty sure Jackson & Lowe did the "tissue" every day.
Another nail in the coffin of the TTC forecast doubles. They would only do around 4 races on each card so you couldn't include trap 7 or trap 8 in your bet, but you could be sure one or two of them would get in the frame to mess your bet up.
In the US trap 7 was green with white stripes and trap 8 pink. I lived in Colorado Springs for a while and they had a track there. All 8 dog races and people would try and get the "superfecta" first 4 home in correct order and it would often roll over to the next race. Quite interesting from a statistical perspective when the pool got big. I remember a group of us doing a large perm leaving out a 33/1 shot and a 16/1 shot that finished 1st and 3rd, opps! The odds were digital of course so I use the 33/1 and 16/1 broadly.