It’s the last
Saturday meeting of the year at Catterick and also their biggest day on the
flat. They stage the Totescoop6 Dash, a
5 furlong class 3 handicap sprint up the home straight, which is their richest
flat race of the year too. This fixture
usually coincides with ‘Champions Day’ which has historically been held at
Newmarket on the Rowley Mile. This year
was the first year of the new Champions Day which is billed as flat racing’s
grand finale for the year and held at Ascot.
A measure of the standing of Catterick is their richest race paid £9,057
to the winner whereas the richest race of the day was worth £737,230 to the
winner at Ascot. In fact the horse
coming 6th in that same race at Ascot managed £17,550 in prize money. Catterick has qualities that money cannot buy
(ok I am stretching it a bit there but it is a good day out).
Before I
became a member at Catterick, Champion’s Day at Newmarket used to be a bit of a
pilgrimage for us (Dad, Cousin Paul and myself) along with 1000 Guineas Day
(when brother in law John would bolster numbers). The first time we went to Champions Day was
in 1996 at my behest, just to see Bosra Sham run and win albeit at skinny odds. All in all we went on 10 consecutive years,
including the year when it was held on the July Course whilst the Millennium
Grandstand was being built. We always
made an effort and changed into suits in the car park, Sunday league football
style, when we arrived at around 11am.
This usually lead to some comment from those parked nearby but this
added to the banter of the day, though Paul would change his trousers in the
back of the car to avoid flashing his ‘pipe cleaner’ legs.
Emboldened by
her good win a month back Amy joined me for the day out. Another friend converted to the Sport of
Kings!
October can
be a tricky month for weather and racecourses are not the best places to be
when it is windy and wet, which it had been all the preceding week,
apparently. I say apparently because
that week I had been lucky enough to be working in Barcelona where the weather
had been glorious and sunny, and if anything too hot, for work anyway. Fortunately the gods were smiling and the
weather was sunny and not too cold or windy; a beautiful autumn day.
Plans went
awry straight off; we were delayed setting off and the 6th race was
split into two divisions so an 8th race was put at the beginning of the card
meaning a start 35 minutes earlier than planned. We arrived just after the first race had
finished so there was to be no pre racing beer in the Bridge Hotel. Thankfully because we have the members’
badges we were able to slip out between races so that I could enjoy a nice pint
of Black Sheep Bitter.
There was a
good attendance. That was clear from
where we had to park in the car park and the presence of about a dozen coaches
and buses, which usually mean stag or hen dos.
Saturdays at Catterick are a popular destination for coach trips from
the North East (Newcastle, Middlesbrough, Hartlepool and Durham) and it is not
uncommon to see groups of men and women out to have a good drink and raucous
fun.
Today was no exception; we spotted a group of women celebrating a 40th Birthday (in matching black tee shirts which proclaimed who they are and what their attributes are. Another was a group of men who were fairly unremarkable apart from the fact that one of their number was wearing a black and white flowered dress together with an oversize floppy hat, but with men’s casual shoes which sort of spoiled the effect. The funny thing was wherever we were he seemed to pop up. I went to the somewhat ancient gents’ toilets there he was stood at the urinals dress comically hitched up at the front. There were a few comments along the lines of he was using the wrong toilets to which he responded along the lines that he had his male appendage in hand so was clearly in the right place. As he left one of his mates said “how can I continue to look up to him?” “What your mate?” “My mate? He’s my manager at work!” Apparently when he found out some wag had brought the outfit he was delighted by the plan and I must say he was a good sport. Dressing up as women is not unknown; a few years back there was a group of lads dressed as Mexican Banditos with one of their number in full flamenco dress (but with the Mexican ‘tache).
Today was no exception; we spotted a group of women celebrating a 40th Birthday (in matching black tee shirts which proclaimed who they are and what their attributes are. Another was a group of men who were fairly unremarkable apart from the fact that one of their number was wearing a black and white flowered dress together with an oversize floppy hat, but with men’s casual shoes which sort of spoiled the effect. The funny thing was wherever we were he seemed to pop up. I went to the somewhat ancient gents’ toilets there he was stood at the urinals dress comically hitched up at the front. There were a few comments along the lines of he was using the wrong toilets to which he responded along the lines that he had his male appendage in hand so was clearly in the right place. As he left one of his mates said “how can I continue to look up to him?” “What your mate?” “My mate? He’s my manager at work!” Apparently when he found out some wag had brought the outfit he was delighted by the plan and I must say he was a good sport. Dressing up as women is not unknown; a few years back there was a group of lads dressed as Mexican Banditos with one of their number in full flamenco dress (but with the Mexican ‘tache).
The punting
was alas unsuccessful. We both managed
to get seconds but we back them to win; winners provide to be elusive.
 |
| Amy (with man in dress just visible in the background) |
Over at Ascot
(watched on the big screen) Frankel continued his extraordinary season winning
the Group 1 Queen Elizabeth II stakes with consummate ease. I would like to think that we get the chance to
see him as a 4 year old but I am sure the lure of the stud is likely to be too
great. We have been truly lucky to see
such a fine animal, I am only disappointed not to have witnessed one of his
performances in the flesh.
We broke up the journey home for a stop for tea. Again we headed for York where we found an interesting Italian restaurant called La Vecchia Scuola which translates as ‘the old school’. The restaurant is housed in what used to be a girls school which is a Georgian Grade II listed building with a huge conservatory built at the rear. The place was rammed and we were lucky to get a table without a wait. The menu was typical of a UK version of an Italian restaurant; pasta, pizza, chicken and steak/veal.
The food bruschetta Toscana, antipasto misto all’Itailana and pizza frutti di mare
Links
La Vecchia
Scuola http://la-vecchia-scuola.co.uk/contact.htm
Black
Sheep Brewery http://www.blacksheepbrewery.com/
Ascot
Racecourse http://www.ascot.co.uk/
