An owner’s lament on BLB Day

RACEHORSE ownership is not a full-time occupation, though owners do their utmost to try to make it appear so, especially on a day with a lot at stake as the recent Betting Levy Board Day. My day job had demanded attendance on Saturday at a noon board meeting in Port-of-Spain and when I cancelled this, the natives began to mutter. “Bloody Baptiste, bloody horses, rhubarb rhubarb, if it’s not one thing then it’s another,” were the words I could distinguish. One would think these people would be thrilled at the prospect of  Neverloseonherown having an opportunity to reveal her true form in the lowly maiden over 1200 metres at Santa Rosa Park. One thought wrong —  moan, whinge, carp was all I got. I came on Saturday to win the Betting Levy Board Sprint Classic, because French Academy would redeem herself against Latonia. But as the two horses appeared to be heading for a duel, no one told Hanif Emamalie aboard Supremely Satisfied. And worse, no one told me, so I lost, again.

Earlier on in this the Betting Levy Board week, Neverloseonherown did a piece of work on Tuesday, and my trainer, hastened to impart the news: “He worked poorly. Something to do with being a filly. Won’t run her again anyway, because the advance going is good to firm and she needs give.” “It might rain.” “It might not,” says my trainer, mentioning that the weatherwoman had advised leaving umbrellas at home. Back to the races, it was to be a walkover for 2004 Derby victor   Mucho Tempo in the John Derek Cozier Memorial Turf Classic, but  a change in jockey was the first signal. All was not okay and when the Jamaican Uram stormed to the lead, it was clear this Jamaican was seeking eternal salvation. As to the horse that was supposed to break the bank of the Arima Race Club and force them to borrow again from the Betting Levy Board, I had an idea, which I tried to explain to the trainer.

“Do you remember before her last start you said she had worked brilliantly and then she ran crap — finished the length of a Curtly Ambrose run-up behind the winner. “Maybe if she works badly on the gallops, it means that she’ll run a blinder on the track,” I suggested. The trainer advised us to give her a week and think rain. I ask whether we still have to pay him $20.50 an hour. “Yes please,” says my trainer. What did the entry at Santa Rosa Park cost? The trainer thinks: “About $500, but your Republic Bank account will tell all.” I reconvened the board meeting. On Friday, the trainer phoned with the news that Neverloseonherown had done a fine bit of work on the gallops, demolishing the filly who had outperformed her three days earlier. “Perhaps the other filly is coming down with something?” “Not at all. Yours had an off-day, but now she’s fine and all we need is some rain and a race and I have Dave Gaff standing by.”

I foolishly failed to heed my own advice and went to the races via the off-track betting shop. I lost, but the gelding I had come to back had really good excuses for finishing out of the frame. He ran a race into which optimists could read much-the event was run in a fast time, he got knocked about a bit, and was running on at the end. As no-one was watching, a few more races for him to get the hang of it and come down the handicap and run in blinkers and go a bit further, maybe jump hurdles, and I could clean up. My wife, an innocent woman, asks whether I might not clean up even more comprehensively were I to abandon horse ownership and take up solitaire, but I blame the Betting Levy Board for making this day too attractive. I changed the subject to quality of life. How much of that do you get on a solitaire board? Next Friday I shall give a tip.