REVIEW ALDENHAM COTTENHAM SATURDAY 13 APRIL 2002 by Richard Hall |
One of the great things about point to point is that it
attracts people from all sections of the community and, in general, people
take the opportunity to be themselves. They behave naturally. The gamblers
huddle around the bookmakers boards, the horsey folk around the paddock
and the winners enclosure, the tourists walk the course and visit the
trade stalls, and the landed gentry assemble around the boots of Range
Rovers with personalised number plates to pick at open salmon sandwiches
and drink expensive champagne from crystal classes. Everybody tolerates
each other, although each group probably hides a gentle smile at the
idiosyncrasies of the others. It is the way things are; everybody slots
quietly and unobtrusively into the style that they are most comfortable
with. No pretence. We arrived at the course early for Cottenham’s final
meeting of the season and, having read the programme and decided that it
wasn’t quite warm enough to take the dog for a walk around the course,
were wondering what we were going to do before the first race. Then, as if
heaven sent, three families arrived to fill the void. They parked their
cars (an eight year old Rover, a six year old Toyota, and a Land Rover
lookalike) alongside each other with as wide a distance between them as
they dare. Out they disembarked, taking a whole host of furniture with
them. A paste table was soon erected, over which an immaculately stiff and
white tablecloth was neatly arranged. Then came the B+Q canvas picnic
chairs. These were carefully spaced to cover the maximum amount of space
to see and be seen in. Conversation was loud, exaggerated and inane. Never
mind the quality, feel the width. An audience was sought. This was
obviously the normal way to behave at a point to point; they had read it
in an edition of Country Life at
the doctor’s surgery. Then came the chicken legs on paper plates, the
sandwiches in endless Tupperware containers, the sparkling wine, the salad
in a big glass dish, the Heinz cream,
the Bakers Oven cakes, and
bottles of mineral water for the younger children. As the Mums made a meal
of serving, the Dads got stuck into the wine. Gradually the conversation
got even louder. Names were dropped and, with each one, glances into the
audience became more intense. After a while the fresh breeze cooled them,
prompting Matalan fleeces to be fetched to cover exposed flesh. When passing
acquaintances were pulled temporarily into their midst shooting sticks
were produced for them to sit on. And there they sat for the rest of the
afternoon. Occasionally they read the programme and asked each other
questions like “Didn’t this horse run in the Grand National?” We managed to pull ourselves away from the show in time for
the first race, the Members, Subscribers and Farmers. This provided just
as much of a spectacle. There were only four runners and they were soon
down to three when the rider of the second favourite, Another Hublick,
decided to fall off shortly after his mount had cleared the first fence.
Lonesome Traveller made the running and it looked for a long while that
Tell Monty, the favourite, had decided that he just wasn’t interested in
competing. On the second circuit, however, he changed his mind and
sprinted past the field to take the lead. On the back straight he had a
rethink, and slowed again, allowing the other two to catch him up. With
the turn for home in sight something regalvanised him and he charged on
again. At the last he had the race at his mercy. The jockey was possibly
the only one present who thought otherwise, and, determined to prove
everyone else wrong, decided to emulate his colleague two circuits earlier
and fall off after his mount had cleared it. Lonesome Traveller’s
connections must have thought Christmas had come early and cheered their
horse all the way up the run in to victory. Profesor Tag completed the
course for the first time in his history to take the runner up spot. Racing proper got under way with the Countryside Alliance
Members Race for Novice Riders. Even here, though, a comedy of errors was
to influence the outcome. The favourite, Dalligan, was going easily in
second when swerving to eject William Pewter through the wings of the
eighth fence. As he did so he forced the well-backed Monyman, who was hot
on his heels, to run out. For a while it looked as if the rank outsider,
Adamatic, would be the chief beneficiary. He took up the running after the
trailblazing Absolute Limit had run out of steam, and found more every
time Lord Knox came at him. He made a bad blunder at the second last and,
although Craig Jarvis did remarkably well to stay on board, it clearly
knocked the stuffing out of him and he was a spent force thereafter. By
then Caroline Flyer had produced Neil King’s Wrekengale from a long way
behind to make up ground and jump into a clear lead. He finished like a
fresh horse and was well clear of Lord Knox at the line. Wise Advice, who
had been badly hampered early, ran on well to take third. The P.O.R.A. Mares Race went to Rachel Barrow on Mai Point,
at long odds on. He led throughout and soon had the field falling off
behind him. Turning for home only Mulberry remained within striking
distance and, although he stuck to his task well, he simply could not
match the pace of the winner. The Land Rover Mens Open Race cut up badly, with only three
of the twenty entries declared. Hatcham Boy was sent off the two to five
favourite but the fast early pace set by Rathgibbon ensured that he had to
be ridden throughout o keep in touch. When Rathgibbon folded after two
miles Andrew Sansome sent Dynamic Lord to the head of affairs, obviously
hoping to expose the suspected speed weakness of the favourite. A
three-length lead was soon established, and was never reduced. If anything
Dynamic Lord stayed on better after the last to run out a comfortable
winner. Spring Gale was a similarly hot favourite for the Ladies
Open. Zoe Turner kept him up with the strong pace set by Mill O’The Rags
throughout, and the pair were quickening well clear of the field in unison
when Spring Gale made an uncharacteristic mistake three fences out,
sending Ms Turner sprawling to the turf. Mill O’The Rags was left to
come home a distance clear of Pongo Waring and provide doubles for his
trainer, Neil King, and rider, Rachel Barrow. Although nine went to post for the Restricted only three were
ever in with a serious chance of winning it. As they entered the final
straight it would have taken a brave man to have his mortgage on the
outcome. Neil King had a narrow lead on his course winner, Balla D’Aire.
Andrew Sansome had been prominent throughout on Royal Way, and came back
for more. Just behind them Ben Pollock was producing Crackrattle, who had
been a little outpaced earlier, with a fine late effort that threatened to
swallow them both. They all jumped the last well but it was Balla D’Aire
who found most on the run in to keep the other two at bay, proving that,
on good to firm ground at least, he does stay the three miles well.
Crackrattle lost nothing in defeat and finished second. He has had only
six races, on different extremes of going, and is still improving. I
suspect that a more demanding test of stamina (as required by his half
brother, Kingsmark) will bring out the best in him. Royal Way wandered a
bit under pressure on the run in but was a long way clear of the fourth.
This was his best performance to date and good to firm ground clearly
suits him. The Open Maiden that concluded events may not have been the
best race that Cottenham has ever staged, but it certainly produced one of
the closest finishes it has seen. The wonderfully named Parsonhumfrywebber
had, as usual, been tailed off on the first circuit. This time, however, a
mile from home Emma Bell managed to inspire him to actually get
competitive. He seemed like a sprinter up against marathon runners and
made truly rapid progress to put himself in the lead jumping the second
last. At that point you would have thought the race was over. He still led
over the last but the jockey had to start getting serious to keep him up
to his work. Suddenly Give Him A Chance, who had earlier seemed to have
squandered his opportunity with some sloppy jumping at both the
seventeenth and eighteenth fences, was within a length and rallying. On
the run in Harry Fowler bought Give Him A Chance alongside. This inspired
Parsonhumfreywebber to sprint again. As they approached the winning line
they drifted apart, one on the near rail, the other one the far rail, both
giving all they had. They went past together. No one in the grandstand
could separate them. I saw Emma Bell being led in as we all waited for the result. She looked flushed with effort and excitement, and bore a beaming smile all over her face. She clearly thought she had won. The joy evaporated the instant the judge’s verdict was announced. Give Him a Chance had been declared the winner. A moment later Harry Fowler rode in. Beside me his parents were grinning from ear to ear, dialling friends on a mobile phone to announce their victory. Heads or tails? The difference is so narrow. |