And just over four hours…
Until that first pint of Guinness…
We will have dropped down off Cleeve Hill. Praying that an over enthusiastic and zealous policeman will not have halted the traffic unnecessarily. For years, the queue from the crest of the hill was long and arduous – and then some wise person realized that if you let drivers drive, they will collectively work it out…
For a while now, the entry to car parks has been seamless and smooth…
But all it needs is an unnecessary traffic light or a raising of the palm. Here’s hoping…
Champion Hurdle day…
Will he or won’t he…??
Michael Buckley with antipodean ambition. And why the hell not ?? He has endured a nightmare or seven, so why not dream a little….??
The Champion Hurdle call inevitably made harder by the seeming lack of depth in this year’s renewal. You would have to think that if he stands up, Constitution has the race at his mercy. No young pretenders to worry about, and the “left field” filled with decent handicappers who would not trouble the judge in better years….
Sleepless nights at Seven Barrows. But Nicky does not really sleep anyway…
I was asked yesterday what I would do if he was mine. I am usually full of opinion and attitude (?!), but this is very hard to call…
We all dream of a magnificent redemption as Nico launches his mount 10 lengths clear approaching the last, a collective holding of breath as he clears the final hurdle, and the roof being raised as Constitution rages clear from distant rivals….
But what if the wrong stride is seen out in the country and there is tumbling dread on muddy turf…??
What would I do if he was mine….??
Literally no idea….
