My day can be summarised by the outcome of the Aintree race at 4:40 pm, and my huge wager on STAG HORN. So appalled was I by the unfolding drama, that I hurled abuse and a half-eaten Cornish Pasty at the television, as I decided that STAG HORN had been bumped and bored and generally…
SPORT
Lumme – What went right there?
By crikey – even I startled myself. It’s been a while since I did a bit of banking, but e/w doubles and trebles, the favoured drinking method in the Hillside Clubs and my preferred betting poison, delivered what I believe is called A Result. A total investment of 30 pts delivered three winners, a 25/1…
You’re not allowed to say boo to the Goose
Editorial Note: No people died from Covid in the writing of this article and the author has recently tested negative – again. Even as Thor’s Day gets into gear and as the first rounds get underway at Augusta, I shall be back at The Great Western Hospital undergoing what should have happened on Monday, after…
The eyes have it – the eyes still have it.
Before I tell you about my week, I apologise for the number of links I have included. They are there because I think they’re important and I hope you’ll click and read them. Most of it is considerably more illuminating than my own scribbles. I had lunch this week with my old chum, the former…
You thought I had forgotten?
Yeah, yeah – I know it’s The Dubai World Cup and that the shoulder races to the big one are all very high quality. Yes, I also know that they all carry enough prize money to pay for a 1″ advertising spot on the rear wing of a really ordinary F1 car, driven by a…
Cheltenham – An Apology
The management would like to apologise to all those who feel in any way underwhelmed by the astonishing absence of success delivered by Captain Kneesup’s team of expert analysts here at Raceweb Towers over Cheltenham week. As those of you who have dropped by for a glass of Old Bual and a little Seed Cake…
Race, kick, run, vroom vroom Sleep
If Cheltenham moves to five days, this is what this morning will feel like – except you’ll have to put your tweeds on, kick the empty bottles and the knackered spaniels aside and head for Cleeve Hill again. I don’t know how trainers do it… we were back home by 11:00 pm, but on our…
The Last Post of Cheltenham
There was a moment on Thursday when the Kneesup world took a definitive turn for the worse. Not the excessive prices that Cheltenham has been charging for a Pint of Guinness, nor the ludicrous absence of mobile signal in the 21st century; nor the woeful and controlled wifi signal that allows you to only bet…
Cheltenham Thursday St Patrick’s Day
I have just read some unutterable drivel that suggests that the Turners Novice Chase, while not totally brilliant with only the four horses competing in a championship race, is somehow still great, (and thus excusable), because we will actually get a great match race between Bob Olinger and Galopin Des Champs, and neither will be…
Cheltenham Ladies Day – Wednesday
A very jolly lunch with racing and pointing folk. Our host has of late become increasingly deaf, and lives in a world where TVs are best full-on – and the resulting output then passed through an amplifier. Various grooms, vets, farriers, a dog-walker and assorted others drifted in and out to watch the racing on…
Cheltenham Day 1
No time for chit chat. I’m building a website for a charity; I’ve got an environmental campaign to put together; I’ve just come back from seeing my furrowed eye-brow consultant and I’m not sure where The Cheltenham tweeds are. All this before 7.00 pm when I’m off for road-kill with his Lordship. So onto the…
The Cheltenham Question
I had a jolly Fish and Chip supper at a local pub last night with my old friend The FinTech Brain, and while inventing a new and delicious dessert (one scoop each of Blood Orange and Gin Sorbets covered in a shot of Cointreau), we cruised around the conversational islands of Paralympic Curling, Olympic 3-day…
Feast or Famine? It’s not just at Cheltenham.
I wondered this week, at what point the Labour front-bench might overcome their oft-absent scruples and walk out of the chamber en masse in order to join the International Brigade. They might not have been alone. The demeanour of Ben Wallace, (whose preemptive “Here, Let Me Help You” strike on Priti Patel will have weakened…
Common sense is in spite of, not as the result of, education – Greek or otherwise
Firstly an apology for my absence yesterday. I have been to London on the sort of “official business” that No 10 habitues are familiar with – namely two days of lunching and one day of dining, over Thursday and Friday. This marked the opening salvo of National Ethanol Toxicity Fortnight, and I had a marvellous…
Cheltenham could be another Russian target!
There can’t be many occasions during the year when an enemy could inflict maximum damage on Blighty in a single strike. But if you wanted to eliminate large sectors of the four estates, Legislature, Executive, Judiciary and the Media, in a single act, Cheltenham would be your best bet. Historically, even if the English and…
The Archers, The Camorra and North Korea
This last week I found myself moved by various snippets of writing that gave me unexpected pleasure. Among those was a small segment of The Archers in which the subject of miscarriage and stillbirth was discussed. Normally in the Archers, such matters can, and often do, sound like patronising public service broadcasts for Zombie Aliens….
OFGEM: Office that Forgot to Get Energy Made
It is morning. You sit at your table, the sideboard creaks with chaffing dishes keeping the devilled kidneys a point, the poached eggs at a perfectly-held softness, the grilled tomatoes sweetened with their own caramelisation ready to support the saltiness of the dry-cured streaky from a Gloucester Old-Spot. Scrote, the hunched family retainer, brings in…
Sunday’s racing tips and the DRF
We managed to claw a bit back on Saturday and ended up +10.35pts. The Treble crashed out on the first leg but provided two odds-on winners and we also tipped 9/4 – 9/2 – 6/1 and two other places including a 33/1 shot IF THE CAP FITS. I am still cross that I swerved Paul…
Olympic Fashion Stakes – everyone a winner
So far today, I have been in discussion with the head of global communications for one of the top crypto-currencies, a company that leads the way in making the concept retail-friendly; I have had a meeting with one of the top comedians on the current club circuit regarding his forthcoming Valentine Tour; had coffee with…
Chinese prove that Claret fights Covid.
As I write, I discover Barry Cryer has died. I saw him on The Edinburgh Fringe many years ago, and the wave of affection and support that filled the small room where he did his one-man show was palpable. He apparently died just after telling a nurse his favourite Archbishop of Canterbury joke. A man…
So many weighty issues for so early in the year
Predictably, the best intentions of the BHA in their new “weight management” programme, has hit the buffers, with the PJA members crying foul and various members saying it’s bad, pointless, too little, not enough, career-threatening and ill-conceived. Accusations of bulldozing the measures through are rife and a full-blown tizz has developed based on the following….
A rarity for Sunday
For a number of reasons, you are getting a Sunday post. Firstly I had a note from a Mrs Trellis of North Wales, who thought I was dismissive in my racing notes yesterday, of what will be surely seen as one of the 21st century’s greatest races between brave and redoubtable SHISHKIN and the so-nearly…
I am Spartacus, but please don’t crucify me.
Like all good Catholics, lapsed or otherwise, I struggle to keep my sins to myself. The need to cleanse one’s soul and expunge all guilt lies firmly within the beating breast of the Kneesup clan, tempered only by the corollary to all confessions – don’t try to mitigate your responsibility and lessen the punishment by…
Better the devil you know…
It’s hard to know what to make of the nellies who constitute the lower orders on the Conservative backbenches. The Rt. Hon. Member for Frightfully-Cross and his Hon. Friend the Member for Hopeful-without-Reason, all appear to have shot their bolt. More to the point, they all failed to grasp – as did I – that…
Knickers to the Aga – and the Chinese spies
One of my favourite readers, Mrs Banshee from Kent, sent me a kindly and charming note outlining her concern at my Aga woes. The Aga, she wrote, is not for cooking… “Rather it is for drying one’s knickers on, as everyone who has one knows”. Now call me old-fashioned, but when very attractive women start…
I bet I’m a better person by the end of the year!
Despite calling in sick for exactly 26 days, it turns out that the Lateral Flow Tests I used every seven days were all flawed, and that I didn’t have to take a long paid holiday at my company’s expense to self-isolate after all, so I am now reporting for duty and will obviously be seeking…
2021 – Half-full at best.
A slow and steady start to the day after a delicious beano last night. Chums from Warwickshire who had been dining elsewhere came to inspect the property and deemed it Good. With some alacrity, much instant planning took place, the Garage had been converted to a swimming pool and spa, and my study was moved…
It’s the little things that make one itch
Robert Duvall – possibly my favourite American film actor – once said: “It’s no big thing, but you make big things out of little things sometimes.” Ain’t that the living truth! I made a dinner that pleased Madame – largely because it came from The Cast Iron Elephant – but which lacked quelq’un and simply…
Going Free, Going Soon – Aga
The elephant in the room at Villa Kneesup, is the inherited double oven gas Aga that pumps out about the same heat as Chernobyl as it melted the main core. It costs £20 a week to run and I have despised Agas all my life except, obs, for His Serenity The Aga Khan. (You might…
Another Feast for the Family – unless you’re Welsh
How sad that Janice Long should die so young of something that always sounds so trifling, Pneumonia. One always rather thinks it is curable, manageable, survivable. Not for poor Janice who was a good egg in the Kneesup pantheon. I had forgotten that her brother was Keith Chegwin, who, while an ass on so many…
Look out – it’s the feast of Stephen
Very little time is left now for a preamble. I still fear that the medical panjandrums will force the Government’s hand and my SPAD-based tip of a lockdown on 28th December for three weeks, has still not been rescinded. Still and all, we kept Christmas Day which for us was spent away from the tip,…
Unlike Matt Hancock (so far), I have returned
As the great Dame Edna would say at the beginning of a new stage show, “Did you miss me Possums?” I know one reader who did, who was blissfully unaware of the tenser moments of my last month and sent a sharp note demanding a refund and compensation. It was only later he remembered this…
Crikey – is there nowhere the cameras won’t be today?
Three English racecourses, two jumps meeting, the final televised Flat Handicap Turf race (as I type I wonder whether that’s right?) of the 2021 season, eight Championship races from the States and a house removal so imminent that I am in despair for the management of Zen as we know it. Staying up to watch…
Burgers and Beer – it must be BC
Were I to be asked to take High Office, I’m afraid that some of my beastlier attributes might come out – not least my intense dislike of any kind of extremism or radicalism. I loathe converts, whose newly discovered beliefs are so much more important and worthy than those who believed in the beginning. I…
Another nail in the coffin rather than the horseshoe.
I seem to spend a fair amount of time these days, accidentally drifting in and out of parallel universes. In this multiplicity of locations, 16 hours can pass in a flash, and yet the pace of time can vary from scene to scene. In the “Selling The House” universe, it was about 9 am, when…
There are moments when tis wise to stay shtum
I don’t know about you gentle readers, but about every six weeks, the old fleas start to scratch and you know it’s time for the barber. In my case, the barber is a raven-haired and good-looking woman, who has an Arthurian name and she has cared for my hair, for at least the last five…
They’re Off!
What Ho and a “Crikey” and a “View Halloa” as the National Hunt season breaks cover for the first time this year. Of course, I know the season doesn’t ever actually end, but the first meeting at Cheltenham always seems to mark the potential dawn of a new epoch. Every owner has potentially got a…
QIPCO British Champions Day
A quiet lunch in East Garston, where I see the shoot wagon bringing in hungry souls all sporting long woollen socks and rather bizarrely in one case a pair of Gucci deck shoes. Dinner with friends including my chum Carlisle, in a pub in the Filkins where a log fire blazes. I call him Carlisle…
Warning: Work can kill you
What I have always suspected, has now been proven in a study, undertaken by that august body the Chinese-run WHO and the International Labour Organisation (whose acronym should not be confused with the Illyich Lenin Org.). In this report they revealed that Work kills 2m annually. The study considered 19 occupational risk factors, including exposure…
Day 1 The Future Champions & Cesarewitch Meeting
One day I shall find the time to see where I’m going wrong on the Diary front. I hadn’t realised the Cesarewitch was part of the Future Champions fixture, which used to be Champions Day which moved to Ascot. Never mind – I also get confused by the Autumn Stakes which used to be at…
I’m too lethargic for ennui
Something is amiss in the life of Kneesup. I have been trying to become enthused by The Ryder Cup, and the probable massacre by the USA of our plucky European brethren. Nope – Nada. Am I enthused by The Cambridgeshire? No, not really. The County Championship? Warwick? Oh good. Probably. Formula 1 and The Russian…
A tricky day’s racing, in a week full of tosh.
I just spent two hours writing a preamble that was just another tired rant and I realised that it was pointless. There are simply too many people out there who think The Duchess of LaLa Land is a good egg; that no one is to blame when newbuilds on floodplains collapse and leave families destitute;…
Gant Biggles – a name to conjure with?
The mail box started to receive the first of the yankee tip sheets today. These advised me that the conundrums presented by the approaching Breeders Cup Festival, could all be solved by taking out a $40 subscription here and a $20 subscription there. Like my regular Nigerian correspondent Mrs “Darling” Nkeje – she calls everyone…
Massively under-exercised
Dear old Mark Twain, who could be something of a dark cove when it came to amusing, intelligent writing, once said: “I have never taken any exercise except sleeping and resting.” That about sums up the current Kneesup predicament, as untroubled sleep has been evading me of late and knackeration can be a grinding thing….
St Leger Meeting Day 3
I read this morning of The Commonwealth Secretariat, which provided employment to a chisel-jawed Australian-Canadian lawyer, (several boxes ticked there in terms of Commonwealth), called Joshua Brien. I only read it because reporting of his trial was banned by Judge Martin Griffith, but the order was lifted yesterday after an application by the Evening Standard….
Time for a good kip – A post about NH horse ratings
As I mentioned briefly the other day, the BHA has – after some dedicated “doing Bugger All” – held a review, had a consultation and discovered that the Irish know how to beat the British handicapping system. With a tiny hint of knee-jerk, the BHA strode into action after the Irish horses smashed up English-trained…
My loyalty has been discarded – along with the Gold Card.
Despite empty shelves, nobody apparently working, the collapse of Kabul, the changes to the NH handicapping system, the sale of the house, and a 15-week-old puppy whose teeth are incredibly sharp, life meanders along much as before. Silly chores, however, do seem to take forever but this is, I suspect because Homo Sapiens has decided…
Who Cares – Cha Cha Cha
Yesterday I went to London. It was exactly 77 weeks to the Friday in March 2020, and once again I was lunching in a London club and once again, the Saturday morning following my exertions was surrounded by the miasma of the unkempt and a large dollop of Hors de Combat. It is the price…
The Ebor, York and TV racing
I wondered last night over a pint, whether there were wise old men in Sodom and Gomorrah, who, as the great fire rained down and their entire world was turned to dust, stood on the Citadel walls and with their last few scorched breathes said: “There. I told you God existed and Lumme can he…
The Ebor Festival – York Racecourse Day 3
Apologies for the sudden departure yesterday, but our time is not always our own. It was good racing on the second day, although quite why the Galtres isn’t televised is strange. I have mentioned the AP doldrums recently, and some commentators made the point that if the rest of the Coolmore string is underperforming, then…