And so, after a period of Baby P-style neglect, this blog returns. It was getting a bit above itself you see; being rowdy in public, upsetting the neighbours and generally doing things that Cliff Richard wouldn't approve of. But it's back (for now) and, who knows, it might even get updated more than once a month.
The Arc this week will be the highlight of most people's weekend, I've always wanted to watch racing behind the red button because it feels dirty, like looking up Claire Balding's skirt. Oh yeah, and Sea The Stars runs.
I was lucky enough to go to Longchamp for the Arc, the year Hurricane Run won under Kieren Fallon, and I can confirm that the rumours are true - the Paris track licks the arse of anything we've got on these shores. The place has charm yet leaves you in awe at the sheer size of the place, atmosphere but decorum and, most notably, superstars that you can almost touch.
Alas, how I would love to touch (and take a few hairs to sell on eBay) one of this year's invaders, the imperious Sea The Stars. A brute of a horse who has the physique of a wild stallion but holds the temperament of an eight year-old's pony. He's got a few gears as well.
Whatever Messrs O'Brien, Stoute or Mohammed throw at the son of Cape Cross, he catches, spits on it and leaves it in a jibbering wreck on a horsebox, probably on the M25 stuck in roadworks. We apologise for the inconvenience.
The Arc this week will be the highlight of most people's weekend, I've always wanted to watch racing behind the red button because it feels dirty, like looking up Claire Balding's skirt. Oh yeah, and Sea The Stars runs.
I was lucky enough to go to Longchamp for the Arc, the year Hurricane Run won under Kieren Fallon, and I can confirm that the rumours are true - the Paris track licks the arse of anything we've got on these shores. The place has charm yet leaves you in awe at the sheer size of the place, atmosphere but decorum and, most notably, superstars that you can almost touch.
Alas, how I would love to touch (and take a few hairs to sell on eBay) one of this year's invaders, the imperious Sea The Stars. A brute of a horse who has the physique of a wild stallion but holds the temperament of an eight year-old's pony. He's got a few gears as well.
Whatever Messrs O'Brien, Stoute or Mohammed throw at the son of Cape Cross, he catches, spits on it and leaves it in a jibbering wreck on a horsebox, probably on the M25 stuck in roadworks. We apologise for the inconvenience.
