After
a quite extraordinary first day at the 2007 Chestival, during which Dec
was swept away in the crowd on a wave of Irish emotion following the
Champion Hurdle, here's the chat we'll be having in the Istabraq Bar...
Maxi: Evenin' chaaaaps.
Baz: Come on the Along! The only bright spot in a desperate day for favourite backers like me.
Mart: Jumped like a dream, Sir. 5-2 for the Queen Mother next year.
Paul: What happened to Dec, then, Mart?
Mart: That head-bobbing finish in the Champion was too much for him.
Three Irish raiders putting the young English pretender to the sword.
Last I saw of him he was crowd surfing towards the Guinness Village.
Baz: Er, does he know the result of the photo, do you think?
Mart: Surely by now, Sir. Surely?
Maxi: Pink Champagne all round, chaaaaps?
Baz: How did you find find the winner of the William Hill, Maxi?
Maxi: Well I missed an appointment yesterday, with the wife, so I had a cheeky marmoset on Mr Pointment.
Paul: And that went in a what price exactly?
Maxi: 50-1. Beating my previous record for a coincidence bet at the Festival.
Baz: Ah, Maximise 2003, 40-1.
Maxi: Exactly.
Mart: Any joy apart from that?
Baz: Well, other than all those favourites, I confess I'd had a small interest in Tipperary All Star in the Supreme.
Mart: No-one else would've found that, Baz.
Paul: Well, actually...
Baz: And I think we all did our nuts in the Champion.
Maxi: What happened to Detroit?
Baz: Hardy was unlucky in running.
Mart: I still think the Inca got it on the nod. Those stewards need their eyes tested.
Paul: Again, lads, I managed to...
Mart: Cheltenham Paul, quiet as a church mouse.
Maxi: Hang on, chaaaps, is that Dec just stumbled in.
Mart: Declan, over here!
Dec (dishevelled): Did that so-and-so Harchibald really win the
Champion, fellas? One word: yes or no. Everyone in the Istabraq:
YEEEEESSSS!!
Racing
events on Day 2 of the Chestival are over-shadowed by the news that the
result of the previous day's photo finish in the Champion Hurdle has
been revised. Overnight, and in an unprecedented move, the judge has
called the result as a dead heat between Harchibald, the original
'winner', and Brave Inca, ridden by Charlie Swann.
Meanwhile, in the Istabraq Bar...
Paul (smug): Will Baz ever learn on Denman?
Baz (indignant): What? Outrageous! Cailin Aillin's not fit to shoe his hooves.
Maxi (flushed with success and pink champers): But she did give him a good old trouncing.
Baz
(apoplectic, hopping on his one good leg): She's nothing more than a
mudlark chancer!! Denman's pure class, better than Kato...
Dec: Hills go 16s Denman for the 2008 Gold Cup. Tempted Sir? One word.
Baz (phone to one ear, Blackberry in hand): Hi, it's account number
999999, looking for a price on Denman for the 2008 Gold Cup...
Mart: Ground's certainly playing a major part, fellas. Looking back,
Silverburn was the value of the meeting so far. Why weren't we all
piling in?
Maxi: You called it, Mart, and we all followed.
Dec: Not EVERYONE, Maxi...Aran Concerto....[mutter mutter, twitch twitch].
Mart: And what about the Bumper? Who saw that coming?
Maxi: Well, chaaaps, I had another moment of clarity. More champers anyone?
Baz: Shut it!
Maxi: You see last week the wife and I went to see Cats, the musical,
in Oxford. When I told her I was coming all four days, she threw a bit
of a wobbly.
Dec: Great stuff Maxi.
Mart: And how did that help exactly, Sir?
Maxi: Well, Theatrical Moment was the obvious choice after that.
Baz: Thank you Mr Timeform. Exceptional analysis.
Mart: Still can't get over the Queen Mother.
Paul: Is that treason or necrophilia?
Dec: Cheltenham Paul - poor.
Mart: How does Nickname not win in that ground?
Baz: Mudlark chancer...not fit to....etc.
Maxi: They all let the winner get too far away from them.
Dec: Surely he's got to come back to them in those conditions...you can't go flat out the whole way.
Paul (smug again): Great pair of lungs, that Ashley Brook. Let him go
at your peril. Rest of the field obviously didn't see him win here a
couple months back.
Baz: You're comparing a poor POOR hurdle race where he's 40 pounds
better off with the blue ribband 2-mile chase event?! That's it I'm
off. (Leaves, spilling Maxi's champagne).
[On the other side of the bar, a slight figure is hoisted shoulder high above a group of raucous Irishmen].
Irishmen: TO CHARLIE SWANN.
Everyone in the Istabraq: CHARLIE SWANN!!
Drying ground and record temperatures of 30 degrees have transformed the
whole face of the Chestival. It's Ladies' Day and the skirts are
nearly as short as Baz's temper on the Wednesday evening. Fortunately
for all concerned, the sun and a couple of winners have lightened his
mood as we head back to the Istabraq...
(Read on, Deco, there's more).
Geordie Graham: Hey, Max, you're picking winners all over the shop. What's your secret, man?
Maxi: Well, you've just got to do a bit of research really. (Dec fountains a mouthful of lager over the group).
Maxi: Take that Copsale Lad in the Racing Post Plate. He was second to Reveillez last year...
Clarkey: Form at the course, that'll do for me.
Maxi: ...had a scorching victory over hurdles as a pipe opener at
Newbury, and that form was franked by Minella Tipperary at Kempton on
March 3rd.
Mart: So you backed Copsale Lad for a place, Max?
Maxi: Good God no! One of my clients has just bought a house on Madison
Avenue in Walsall so obviously I had a cheeky macaque on Madison Du
Berlais.
Dec (a little weary): What price this time, Maxi?
Maxi: Oh, only 25s. More champers, chaaaaps?
Paul: Lovely, Maxi, think I'll allow myself a small celebration after that acca.
Tom: Will you shut the f**k up about your f**king acca! F**cker.
Paul (smug for third day running): Well, Tom, it's not every day you
get a five-timer up at the Festival. Worthy of a modest celebration,
I'd have thought.
Tom (under breath): One more time and you're f**king wearing that f**king champagne.
Clarkey: I take it Mr Black Jack helped with that little windfall?
Paul: Oh, yes. In the acca and...
Tom: Right, that's it. Have some of this, you boring f**king f**ker!!
Paul (brushing champagne off his trilby): ...and a pension fund-load on
him as a separate single. Can you believe he was 3s a couple of weeks
ago?
Dec: Scandalous, Sir. A bloodbath in the betting ring. Where's Barry Dennis? He's gone home. Great stuff.
Mart: Credit to Baz, he was right about the Nicholls horses.
Paul: I know. I had my doubts about Gungadu but he was class. As was New Little Bric.
Geordie G: Ay, and what about Wor Vic?
Tom: It's OUR Vic.
Geordie G: Ay, I know, Wor Vic.
Paul: Yep. Monet's a beautiful jumper but Vic gets the job done - when he can be bothered.
Mart: And, fellas, today we welcome back into the winners enclosure a very special and dear friend. I feel a song coming on.
Dec: Anyone seen Baz?
Paul: Not recently, although GJ has just been on the blower berating me for him only having 100 rand on BJK at 6-4.
Maxi (gesturing to the centre of the bar with a champagne bottle): Er, that looks like Baz over there, chaaaps.
Baz (standing on a table, two bottles of champers in each hand): LIKE A RHINESTONE COWBOY! DA-DAH-DA!
Everyone in the Istabraq: RIDING OUT ON A HORSE IN A STAR-SPANGLED RODEO!!
The 2007
Chestival draws to a close. All questions have been answered, all
arguments settled, and there's been a lot of compromising. Some big
names
have come and gone with their reputations intact; others have flattered
to deceive. New heroes have emerged, blinking at the sunlit uplands of
Cleeve Hill. And it's all over for another year.
The remaining chaps - weary but drunk on success and pink champers -
gather for one final moment of reflection in the Istabraq...
Dec: Only 362 days to go, chaps.
Paul: Think you'll find that's 363, Deco. 2008's a leap year.
Baz: Pedant.
Dec: 24 whole extra hours. Will we be able to cope with the tension? Will we, Sir?
Mart: I've got three words for you, Cheltenham Paul. The first one is
"Wichita", the second one is "Line" and the third one is "Man".
Paul: He is the horse that keeps on finding. Never in doubt.
Tom: And good call by Max on Exotic Dancer.
Maxi: Thanks, Tom. You're in a slightly less abrasive mood today.
Baz: Well, he napped up Katchit in the Triumph, didn't he?
Paul: Course and distance winner - Clarkey will be happy.
Mart (totally straight face): So, Max, you've been in fine form with
the coincidence bets this week. Any particular reason you plumped for
Exotic Dancer?
Maxi (shiftily): Well, er, he hasn't really put a foot wrong all
season, does well here, jumps beautifully....er, more pink champers,
chaaaps?
Baz (sniggering): No other reason, then.
Dec: Gutted about Kato, Baz? One word.
Baz: Yes.
Tom: No other horse who would even have stayed on his feet.
Mart: Let alone run the winner to within a short head.
Paul: Did he actually get off the ground at any of the last three?
Tom: Looked to me like he just ploughed through them.
Dec: Ruby's legs were bleeding with the amount of birch in them.
Maxi: "Ruby Ruby Ruby Ruby!! Do ya do ya do ya do ya...?
Tom: ...like having your legs shredded?"
Dec: Maxi, Tom...poor.
Mart: Fellas, I've got to tip my hat again to Baz. Roll Along in the Vincent O'Brien was inspired.
Baz: Come on the Along! The other Along. Once Desert Quest decided to
go for the Champion, he was in the handicap proper and great value.
Paul: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Roll Along was my fancy, I think you'll find.
Baz: Never.
Paul: He was, you know. Tipped up in the Post-Friday Bunny email two weeks ago.
Maxi: Come on now chaaaps, no squabbling on the last day...charge your glasses with pink champers for one more sing-song.
The lads: HOLD ME CLOSE DON'T LET ME GO!
Everyone in the Istabraq: OH NO!!
www.Chestival.com
“There is no such thing as the last race”
Freddie Williams
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