| Ruby Walsh & Kauto Star prepare for battle |
Having laid Long Run and followed Tom Segal in on
Synchronised, I was never overly concerned about the winner of the Gold Cup on
Friday as I had pretty much all eventualities covered (the fact that Nicky
Henderson’s stable boy didn’t add the favourite in the 3.20 to his acca spoke
volumes and I was happy to oppose The Dentist’s horse at 2-1). I just wanted Kauto Star to come back
unscathed.
Ruby Walsh demonstrated in two very different rides
this week why he is such a lauded jockey – on Big Buck’s, who seemed to be
cajoling his rider: “go on Rubes.. prove
to me that you really want to win this fourth World Hurdle” – and then
on Kauto: “come on Rubes.. I’m not right
here fella.. let me bow out with dignity.”
The fact that AP McCoy went on to give Synchronised
such a gritty, determined, talented and vein-bulging push to beat The Giant
Bolster and Long Run up the hill, felt to me like a fitting tribute to Kauto and
to Ruby. Festival Gods seemed to be saying "If the people’s horse isn’t able
to finish the race, let’s give the people another white-faced horse to
love."
Synchronised ain’t as pretty as
Kauto, and AP’s ride was a real street brawl to watch, but it showed heart, and
too many heads had backed Long Run for my liking. Emotion and devotion won the Gold Cup on
Friday in many ways.
Here’s how I finished the week from a gambling point of view. Relatively satisfied with the final figures, particularly after the run of losing bets on what I’m now dubbing “Black Wednesday,” there are a few lessons that have been learnt and some “what-ifs” to consider. Overall, though, I went with my gut, and loved every minute of it.
| At the track: Palphabet pals Westdrop aka The Alpha (left), Norbet (right) and yours truly. |
| Westdrop tucks into our hosts' famous fry-up on festival Friday morning. |
As the festival draws to a close, the Palphabet gang contemplate what to do next. Synchronised seems smug at the enormity of his day's work, and back at the guest house, a little kratooie seems sad to have missed out on proceedings.
Jaegerbombs are ordered and consumed at the Racing Post party (sadly I couldn't find any of their journos to harrass, so pestered Mark Langdon on Twitter instead) and in the morning the tweed is packed away until next time.



