There has been a bit of blog platform “hiatus” in recent times as our long term “host” Typepad has drifted off into the ether…
Meaning that there has been a bit of a scrabble to download my historic posts (not in the meaning of “history making” but as in “ancient” – obvs…)…
Cleverly done by wise folk..
And meaning that I have re-read a couple in idle moments. March 27th, 2008….
A day that pretty much summed up the emotional roller coaster that we have ridden for 17 years…
“The most bitter-sweet day of all. A day when our emotions were picked up, played around with and thrown to the four winds. A day I will never forget.
At 2.20 yesterday afternoon, Music Box Express burst from the stalls under Matthew Davies in Wolverhampton’s first, the 6 furlong handicap. Turning out of the back straight, it was clear that one of those behind would have to grow wings to catch our little flying machine.
As he passed me at the furlong pole, there was a slight wobble, a slight cock of the head, the peleton just beginning to edge a touch closer. But there was enough in reserve. Avontuur, who had denied us by a head on day one, flew wide and late, but we were home. The first winner landed.
Ruth Carr, the Trainer of Avontuur, and her Grandfather David Chapman, a legend of the game, the first to congratulate me as I charged out onto the track, my brilliant Assistant Pat at my side, the two of us throwing mad high fives – and missing……!! Pat’s wife Valerie careering towards us down the track, arms lofted in frantic celebration.
MBE turned, and trotting towards us, Matthew bending over for a handshake of a lifetime. A childhood dream realised – all the hours and days of hard work left behind in this moment of great euphoria. A packed Winner’s Enclosure, Candida and the kids wreathed in the hugest of grins, my Mother with watery eyes, my in-laws Richard and Libby so clearly thrilled and Andy Luckhurst, the boss of our sponsor BBT engulfing me in the hugest of bear hugs.
A snatched word with the Racing Post’s Colin Russell, a glass of Wolverhampton’s finest champagne, the video re-run (he still held on), Barney and Tallulah frantically unwrapping the trophy, a clock, and parading it around the room – Team Baker’s FA Cup. A word with Simon Mapletoft on ATR, a cursory pick at our long-cold lunches, tasting nothing, sucking in the moment, the mobile ringing for it’s life, texts flying manically across the ether…..
And then down to saddle Karma Llama. The paddock pick by far, trained to the minute, we knew ready to run for her life, quiet confidence and hope that this, finally, would be her day.
The stalls cracked back, and Matthew has her in position A. Down the back straight and she is lobbing along upsides the leader, ears pricked, primed for the final push to the line….
But then, in a split second, the day is gone forever. A half-stumble, a change of the legs, Matthew looking down. A frenzied rush to be at her side as she pulls up, desperately lame, the fear and pain so clear to see in her kind eye. The dreaded green screens, the vet rushing to support the shattered leg, KL rearing against the pain as the adrenaline falters…
We took her home to the Hook Norton Veterinary Surgery last night. Jacek has supported the leg as best he can. The next 48 hours are critical. She will never race again, but she deserves a chance to be a broodmare. The inner sesamoid is shattered in splintered shards – the outer sesamoid her only chance. The prognosis pretty bleak – Jacek rates it much less than 50/50.
The drive home from the vets not an easy one. My Darling 3-year-old Tallulah with me “because I want to help you, Daddy” – the eyes a little too watery, a day that gave me one of the moments of my life, turned upside down by KL’s desperate plight.
Morning stables just now, and the emotions in no danger of settling down. Music Box Express’ proud (and, for me, unforgettable) head there to greet me, around the corner Karma Llama’s all too empty stable, her door half ajar, her rug hanging limply over the side.
Perhaps I should not admit this – but the tears began to flow, and are still coming as I write.
A day I will never forget, two horses I will always remember – thank you Music Box, fight hard Karma Llama…….
