MARIA SHARAPOVA bites the poussiere, well done Serena. In a way I am pleased that my crusade is unnecessary: when I watched the semi final, her screams sounded infinitely less offensive than they had in her previous match. It is possible that my attempt to destroy her career was the result of faulty volume control in the Donec Towers Media Centre. If so, the Russian diva has my profound apologies.

(Update: Serena magnificent in final!)

Interesting to see that Clare Balding’s bandwagon has ground to a halt. I have for years been warning her that she would be found out eventually (her manner and manners leave much to be desired), but I find it rather ironic that she should be blamed for much that probably isn’t her fault. Studio, lighting, colour schemes, audience participation, and so on – surely these are the brain children of directors and producers….. Could she possibly have taken control of every department? If yes, she deserves to suffer. If no, well, it’ll be good for her character.

AMERICAN  PIE.

Our campaign to persuade the Americans to recycle their so-called Triple Crown events so as to give contestants a reasonable amount of time to recover from the exertions demanded by each race has been  blown sky high by a magnificent horse called American Pharoah, bred and owned by an excellent man who was born in Cairo – hence the name.

American Pharoah won the Kentucky Derby with some difficulty. Three wide all the way, he was hard pressed to get to the lead and  stay there. I wondered if the Preakness a fortnight later might find him out, especially as torrential rain was likely to turn Pimlico (I think that’s what the venue is called) into a mudbath. How wrong I was: the Pharoah floated across the mud with every suggestion of much enjoyment. He was never off the bit and his jockey never had to move on him.

Consequently we old traditionalists had to face up to the virtual certainty that the mile and a half Belmont was his for the taking, because the Preakness had not been at all strenuous. However he had to work a bit. At the start something disputed the lead with him and made him pull out some of the stops much earlier in the race than he would have liked. An initial two and a half furlongs hard at it – would he suffer later on? No way! He coasted through the middle of the race and quickened like a fresh horse (and a good one) up the final straight.

This however does not persuade the writer that there is any sense in a Triple Crown that is a three-race contest run over just five weeks early in the 3-y-o season of thoroughbred horses. We know that few horses go for it (which suggests that many owners and trainers don’t like the format), and very few horses achieve it. We do not know how many it hurts.

In this case I would bet that no harm has been done, and the winner deserves all the plaudits that have been showered upon him. Incidentally this horse was ridden throughout by Victor Espinoza, who rode California Chrome last season, and who has thus won five of the last six Triple Crown races, plus finishing fourth in the other one. Not bad!

No such good news from the California Chrome camp at Newmarket, Suffolk, England. Within a few days of CC’s first British outing at Royal Ascot he was found to be lame with an abscess in a hoof. Release of pressure and defeat of infection with the help of poulticing should put him right in a very short time, they said.

Latest: he returns to America. (Already gone, one imagines). A very handsome beast, who has earned several millions of pounds and has never run a bad race. They say that he has the character of an angel. We wish him well.

American Pharoah’s next appearance is in the Haskell at Monmouth Park on August 2. Note: an 8-week gap since the ordeal of the Triple Crown – that’s more like it!  We also understand that something important for 3-y-o’s happens at Saratoga on Aug 29. It’s called the Travers. My knowledge of American racing increases by the minute. Thanks originally to California Chrome, who (I have .just heard) is being aimed at the Arlington Million on August 15th.

 

BBC: Slovenly, workshy, devious (Part 2)

A very weird program aired on BBC on June 2^nd called “When Britain Said No”. It purported to explain that the electorate sacked Churchill in the 1945 general election because he was no good. In fact it was a fairly innocuous attempt to shaft the late hero; innocuous because it was noticeable that the historians who wielded the stilettos were a pretty third division rabble with unpleasant faces and shifty eyes. They knew what they were doing.

One of them casually informed the world that in the late thirties Churchill was in agreement with Chamberlain as far as appeasing Hitler was concerned.  Shurely shome mishtake? Another revealed that Churchill didn’t understand the needs of the man in the street in peacetime. Clearly this genius was unaware of the fact that the minimum wage, the labour exchange and the National Insurance Act (the first unemployment pension legislation) were all initiatives created and promoted by one Churchill, Winston Spencer, during his time as President of the Board of Trade (1906 – 11).

The 1945 election result remains something of a mystery (as does the result of the 2015 election). It could be that the public rightly associated Churchill with the conduct of the war – a war which he had tried to prevent and which he didn’t start – and was so fed up with war that it demanded (and got) a complete change – nothing wrong with that.

It could also be the case that some of the public were aware that he was old and tired, and deserved to be turned out to grass (whether he liked it or not), having done a good job in the sphere where he was best qualified to serve the nation.

The truth is shrouded in mystery and will probably remain so. One thing however is clear. The bright spark at the BBC who decided on a hatchet job operates on the same decadence level as the puppets who so unpleasantly set about conveying his odious message to the world.

WORLD POLITICS

DONEC is largely staffed by heroes, but a shiver was palpable throughout the boardroom as we crouched over the wireless set in the semi-darkness (curtains drawn – one can never be too careful) and listened to the news. Apparently the Greek Prime Minister was demanding a free gift of enough euros to keep every Greek citizen in the style to which he wished to become accustomed plus a cancellation of all outstanding debts, and had responded to a shrill “Nein!” (a German refusal) by popping over to Mosc*w to talk to P*tin. Ominously, the latter reported that money had not featured in their conversation. We have our doubts. The idea that P*t*n could be about to buy up chunks of the so-called European Union (piecemeal) in addition to bombing any of his neighbours who show eurotendencies, is alarming. However, we have a little time to prepare . P*t*n is unlikely to do anything naughty until after the Moscow World Cup which he recently negotiated with Sepp Blatter (or is that a double bluff intended to make the West drop its guard?) Donec has refurbished its Anderson shelter.

I must say we are disappointed by the Greeks. If the Land of Lord Byron can tighten its belt and roll up its sleeves, why shouldn’t the Greeks follow our example.

LAUDATO SI

Pope Francis – the mote and the beam?

In the encyclical “Laudato si”  (which means “Praise be to you”) the Pope has recently ordered the whole world to clean up its act or the planet is doomed. He mentions a variety of measures that could be implemented to ensure that it remains inhabitable in the longer term.

Sadly, he makes no mention of the one measure by which he (and he alone) could greatly reduce man’s harmful influence over our environment: if His Holiness were to tell his 1. 2 billion followers to take up birth control bigtime (they are currently banned from so doing), the size of the human population would nosedive and the damage we do to the planet would do the same.

Hence my reference to Luke 6.41: “Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?”

Donec sent an email to this effect to the Osservatore Romano, under the impression that this newspaper was the Voice of the Vatican, and therefore had the ear of the Pontiff. Our message also reminded him that birth control was never preached, recommended, ordained, or even mentioned by Jesus Christ. It is likely that the pernicious edict was the brainchild of a very angry cleric called Jerome more than a hundred years after the Saviour had passed on. We understand that Jerome is associated with the principle “Get people by the unmentionables, and they will do as they are told.”

Strangely enough we received a return message from Rome (but not from His Holiness) indicating that for technical reasons which were far too complicated to be understood (and in a foreign language) our views on this subject would get no further along that particular route. Very sinister.

If therefore somebody reading this knows how to get to His Holiness (who seems to be exactly the sort of man to get things done on the basis of common sense, which is what is required in this case), let him or her make all speed to pass on the message. It might be appropriate to remind the Pontiff that if he talks but does not lead, he is not doing his job. Laudato Si.

ASCOT

Our racing correspondent reports:

How well I remember the day I signed up to spend three winter months at Cagnes-sur-Mer, employed by the late legendary trainer Arthur… (I can do his accent but his surname is for the moment lost in the mists of senility). Arthur had been going down to the south of France with a few horses for several years and had won his share of races, which provided handsome rewards compared with English prizes at that time. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Eventually quite respectable trainers began sending him horses to take down there, because they didn’t want the chore of learning for themselves how to handle the foreign jungle.

When I heard a month ago that the American trainer Wesley Ward had settled in at Manton with a string of a dozen Ascot contenders I thought of Arthur (Thomas! That was his surname). Arthur Thomas was a pioneer and clearly one of the the founding fathers of equine foreign travel, which is here to stay and looking good.

The South of England has been overflowing with delegations from all over the world. Did someone not suggest that 19 nations were involved? Each year there will be more of this as the visitors become familiar with the ease of access and the charm of one of the most civilised countries in the world. Well done, Ascot. Well done, Dettori. God save the Queen!

Whip rules (a national disgrace) did not surface to such an extent as to make a nuisance of themselves, but I was interested to notice that “above the shoulder” charges were levelled at a number of jockeys.

The “Above the shoulder” rule requires the jockey to keep his whip below shoulder level when it is swung forward in time to the rhythm of the horse’s stride and as it begins the return journey which develops into a hit with his horse-friendly baton.

The rule is closely related to the directive that the movement of the whip should be “to and fro” close to the horse’s side.

I suspect that the object of both rules is to make the activity of the whip-hand as invisible as possible. It may date from the paranoia of 2010/11 when the RSPCA was threatening to blow racing out of the water because of the whip, and the BHA was over-reacting by a fairly craven policy of appeasement.

The “above the shoulder” rule only affects a very few inches in the length of the whip’s forward movement. So transgression  adds very little to the punitive potential of a device that does not hurt. The reason that some jockeys use the whip in a way that allows the tip to rise above the shoulder is twofold: first, the rhythm of the horse’s stride suggests a certain length for the movement of the arm, and, second, some jockeys employ a more streamlined body position than others, which means that “above the shoulder” can be an entirely misleading criterion.

There are certain basic truths that must not be forgotten when debating the use of a whip. First, the modern whip is horse-friendly. Second, the jockey is a smallish person. Third, this smallish person is limited in his ability to hit his horse very hard by the following facts of life: he is perched in a position that is precarious; his conveyance is travelling at approximately 30 m.p.h. and has a mind of its own; he is paid to remain on his perch, to control his conveyance, to steer it, encourage it and to keep it balanced. With respect I would suggest that it is very difficult (perhaps impossible) for a jockey to abuse a horse with his whip in the circumstances described.

However, we do note the fact that Ireland and France go along with the “above the shoulder” regulation, and it may be that Donec’s logic is faulty.

A BRAINWAVE

It would be madness to suggest that people of a certain age should take up standing on their heads as a daily routine.

However, the following logic should be considered:

1. Nowadays more and more people are living longer and losing their marbles towards the end of their lives. This is no fun at all for those affected, one way or another, by this affliction.

2. Quite intelligent people are associating this misfortune with the failure of sufficient blood to continue making its way to the brain on a regular basis once a person has reached a certain stage in the ageing process.

3. When the heart of an accident-victim stops beating, it is important (we are told) to get it started again as soon as possible, because failure of the blood supply to reach the head will cause irreversible brain damage within a few minutes. This seems to point in the same direction, and may have some bearing on the subject.

Question: would the flow of blood to the brain of an older person be encouraged to keep providing an adequate supply,  if people adopted (before they grow old) the habit of spending a few minutes each day exercising in a position which places the head below the feet, thus making half the blood’s journey to the head a downhill run.

Ask your doctor. If approval is forthcoming, and the spirit is willing, you will need a well-padded cell and, to begin with, at least two helpers trained to capture flying ankles.  Or a hospital bed designed to re-arrange the user’s relationship with the laws of gravity without any risk whatsoever. Expensive, perhaps, but it may prove worthwhile.

You will have noted that, in the Ascot article above, the writer had forgotten the surname of a trainer called Arthur…. and six lines later he remembered that it was Thomas. Arthur Thomas was the man in question. It just so happens that the author of that article is of great age, but has for thirty years been standing on his head daily for about three minutes. Need one  say more?

KAUTO STAR
The premature death of a true champion is a tragedy. It is no consolation, but at least in this case all the evidence that created an abiding legend is complete in the memory and eternally available on film and in print. The best since Arkle is as good as it gets, and Kauto Star was all of that, and maybe more. Among a host of victories he included two Cheltenham Gold Cups and five King George VI chases.

Kauto Star was bought by a Mr Clive Smith in France for about 400,000 Euros in 2004. We seem to remember reading that the asking price was reduced when the horse proved so fractious that it was impossible to carry out a scope test to make sure he had no breathing issues.

The sale process therefore went ahead with no guarantees concerning Kauto Star’s lungs. Instead it provided an indication that he was a strong character with a mind of his own and a certain sensitivity as to what he would or wouldn’t tolerate. Neither of these factors was hugely significant because he had already raced and won in France on several occasions and was about to be sent to trainer Paul Nicholls in England.  At that time a handful of brilliant young trainers of jumpers were emerging in England,  and Paul Nicholls was on his way to becoming the leader of the pack.

All went well for the following eight years during which Kauto Star won virtually everything and presented Mr Smith with a sum which Wikipedia estimates as £3,775,883 in prize money and various other cash awards.

Eventually a combination of circumstances suggested that the horse was no longer capable of performing at the highest level. In 2012 Mr Smith announced that the horse was to be retired, and Mr Nicholls offered him a retirement home for the rest of his days in the surroundings to which he was accustomed and among the people with whom he was familiar.

This offer Mr Smith declined. He had decided to place Kauto Star in an eventing stable so that the horse could learn to do dressage. Kauto Star left the Nicholls stable towards the end of December 2012.

Sadly the next phase of his life ended in tragedy. He was humanely dispatched on Monday 29th June 2015 after suffering multiple fractures in an accident  while turned out in a paddock. Sympathy for the horse is universal. Jumping is a tough game – eight years is an extraordinary length of time to remain at the top and to walk away in one piece. The racing world and the racing public are deeply indebted to the Nicholls team for the superb way in which they cared for and campaigned this glorious animal.