what a surprising and excellent read! grew up on the racetracks in Ireland my sister and i would start with our pot donated by various friends of my father.we adored every element of it and still do.All the characters - the Anglos, the jockeys,the pretenders, the Dublin women selling sweets and most of all the buzz.
there really isn't ! years later i was the favourite English teacher for Chinese students in an ELF school in Dublin known for my v good tips as my father's horses were in exceptional form through those years! it was one of the only ways i could engage with those men who were only really there to secure their working visas.
Yes and then a breeder in later years.really he was in the restaurant trade and
developed an old pub at a crossroads into an infamous eating spot for all that crowd where the movers and shakers sat with the daytime drinkers. Was all a bit of a balancing act sometimes 😂
Beautifully written Laura, and an excellent introduction to your major interests, all of which fascinate me.
I immediately went to my bookshelf and took out 'England's Lost Houses' by the late Giles Worsley (who died tragically young aged 44). There I found this wonderfully evocative paragraph:
"In 1888 Arthur Basset, aged only 15, had succeeded to a 17000-acre estate (Tehidy Park) worth over £30,000 a year thanks to tin mining. Spectacular extravagance, particularly horse-racing and gambling, at a time of falling tin prices forced him to sell the estate to a wealthy London syndicate in 1916. 'I'm sorry, but it's the horses you know', he explained to a tenant farmer."
'a gambler is making a secret communion with the future' is such a great line...totally gets to that projection, the 'did I make it happen' feeling, the casting a line out that almost feels like time travel
Thanks so much Mark. It is such an odd feeling… I can’t imagine that one gets it with eg a lottery win (delightful though that would be), there’s the element of ‘thought’ when I back a horse which gives the illusion of having directed events….
Good luck! Let us know the outcome. I remember cleaning out the bookmaker in Usk with my Dad when we had one of those stupendous roll-up bets on the racing at Chepstow and they all romped in. We shrieked all the way down the High Street!
What a fun column - I enjoy watching the races (Newmarket is just an hour down the road, I was a student at York and my first walking boots were 'broken in' on Beverley racecourse, though not on a racing day of course) but don't bet. My father was brought up as a Strict and Particular Baptist (like Sir John Betjeman's teddy bear Archie) and even a humble raffle was considered betting. I guess we absorbed that from him.
Very glad to learn you've been lucky at Newmarket, Laura. I have family connections withe the town - my great aunt for years had a retired jockey as her gardener. A quiet little wizened man with very bow legs. Mostly they got on very well, though there was some negotiation about the vegetable growing!
I enjoyed reading again about Edith - she really comes to life when you write about her. She seems to have been someone who was dealt a bad hand and who took some risks to overcome it.
The rustle of The Sporting Life was always heard on a Saturday morning at breakfast in my house growing up too Laura. There was something comforting about it. A truly engaging read here, I enjoyed this immensely and I wish you (dare I say) good luck today! I hope your horse romps it safely past the post!
what a surprising and excellent read! grew up on the racetracks in Ireland my sister and i would start with our pot donated by various friends of my father.we adored every element of it and still do.All the characters - the Anglos, the jockeys,the pretenders, the Dublin women selling sweets and most of all the buzz.
Oh thank you! What a marvellous upbringing. Nothing like Irish racing, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I went to The Curragh….
there really isn't ! years later i was the favourite English teacher for Chinese students in an ELF school in Dublin known for my v good tips as my father's horses were in exceptional form through those years! it was one of the only ways i could engage with those men who were only really there to secure their working visas.
Love that! Was your father an owner?
Yes and then a breeder in later years.really he was in the restaurant trade and
developed an old pub at a crossroads into an infamous eating spot for all that crowd where the movers and shakers sat with the daytime drinkers. Was all a bit of a balancing act sometimes 😂
He sounds absolutely brilliant...
Beautifully written Laura, and an excellent introduction to your major interests, all of which fascinate me.
I immediately went to my bookshelf and took out 'England's Lost Houses' by the late Giles Worsley (who died tragically young aged 44). There I found this wonderfully evocative paragraph:
"In 1888 Arthur Basset, aged only 15, had succeeded to a 17000-acre estate (Tehidy Park) worth over £30,000 a year thanks to tin mining. Spectacular extravagance, particularly horse-racing and gambling, at a time of falling tin prices forced him to sell the estate to a wealthy London syndicate in 1916. 'I'm sorry, but it's the horses you know', he explained to a tenant farmer."
That’s marvellous isn’t it… And thank you Rob for your lovely words!
'a gambler is making a secret communion with the future' is such a great line...totally gets to that projection, the 'did I make it happen' feeling, the casting a line out that almost feels like time travel
Thanks so much Mark. It is such an odd feeling… I can’t imagine that one gets it with eg a lottery win (delightful though that would be), there’s the element of ‘thought’ when I back a horse which gives the illusion of having directed events….
Exactly this! We are the agent
Good luck! Let us know the outcome. I remember cleaning out the bookmaker in Usk with my Dad when we had one of those stupendous roll-up bets on the racing at Chepstow and they all romped in. We shrieked all the way down the High Street!
½ length 2nd 😱
Were you EW or to win?
Win. They were all quite short. He led all the way except the line.
The suffering of the gambler!!!!
Impressed! There’s no feeling quite like it. I WAS RIGHT…
6 horses in that handicap today - my goodness that race (like so many things) is not what it was…
Gosh. Not much of a field.
What a fun column - I enjoy watching the races (Newmarket is just an hour down the road, I was a student at York and my first walking boots were 'broken in' on Beverley racecourse, though not on a racing day of course) but don't bet. My father was brought up as a Strict and Particular Baptist (like Sir John Betjeman's teddy bear Archie) and even a humble raffle was considered betting. I guess we absorbed that from him.
Thanks Sue, you are v wise although Newmarket has been quite lucky for me over the past few days… Beverley racecourse is lovely!
Very glad to learn you've been lucky at Newmarket, Laura. I have family connections withe the town - my great aunt for years had a retired jockey as her gardener. A quiet little wizened man with very bow legs. Mostly they got on very well, though there was some negotiation about the vegetable growing!
I enjoyed reading again about Edith - she really comes to life when you write about her. She seems to have been someone who was dealt a bad hand and who took some risks to overcome it.
And Woodbine Minnie is priceless.
Great isn’t it. I’d love to have seen her.
And thank you Jeffrey! That’s exactly it about Edith.
The rustle of The Sporting Life was always heard on a Saturday morning at breakfast in my house growing up too Laura. There was something comforting about it. A truly engaging read here, I enjoyed this immensely and I wish you (dare I say) good luck today! I hope your horse romps it safely past the post!
Yes, a beautiful sound! I can see my father now with his paper… Thanks so much Nic
I really enjoy your writing Laura - I shall subscribe someday someday. Presumably when my mare romps in in the Grand National!
Thanks Lucy, looking forward to yours also!
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