Racing

Liverpool Foxhunters and Topham Trophy. In both cases the starts involved two bad practices (close-packed formation and a period of uncomfortable rotation) and both races experienced false starts.

Grand National. The two bad practices were omitted and the start was perfect.

Scottish Grand National. The bad practices were re-introduced and the start was a mess. When will the penny drop?

PS: there was much joy about the fact that in the Aintree National there were no fallers before the 7^th fence. In the race at Ayr there were 2 fallers and 3 others in trouble before the 6^th. This proves nothing, but the suggestion that pre-start shenanigans adversely affect a horses’s jumping has always been a feature of the argument that those shenanigans should be eliminated.

Betting. Times  are hard and I considered the possibility of applying for one of the “Free Bets” offered by many bookmakers on the Grand National. The one I chose invited me to scrutinise its “Terms and Conditions.” Number 17 ran as follows:

“You will only be eligible to withdraw winnings accrued through the use of Promo Cash” (the Free Bet) “once you have staked at least four times the value of your initial bonus amount and these bets have been fully settled.”

Victor, Victor, Victor! You handsome man! Have you no shame?

As you can imagine, this was an offer I had to refuse.

A few years ago I took up a Coral Free Bet which netted me about £800 when Granit D’Estruval won the Irish Grand National at 33-1. No clause 17 with Messrs Coral. They just popped the cash into my bank account, quick as a flash, sweet as a nut, without a murmur. O tempora! O mores!

Golf. Yesterday I was victorious in the first-round of a singles competition, playing off 22 against an opponent off 21. In addition, the opponent (whose company was a delight, and I hope we shall meet again) had flown back from Brazil 48 hours before, and had not touched a golf club for three months. I do wish there were more like him. My preparations included packing a cold drink and two bananas in my bag.  By halfway I was tired, hungry and thirsty, and my game was stumbling, but it never occurred to me to break open the rations.  At this rate I am never going to achieve the 18 handicap of my dreams.

Real Life. Every time I turn on the television, something ghastly is being reported. So to hell with it, for this month. Incidentally I haven’t  bought a newspaper for a year, and I am happy, and richer, as a result.  However SPORT 30 may provide food for thought. Best wishes.