The Final Furlong - Plumpton Racecourse

 

On Sunday May 12^th 2024 the Jason Tomlinson’s Final Racecourse Celebration Handicap Chase took place at Plumpton racecourse in East Sussex. As a race name it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue but this event was the pinnacle of another wonderful day at the races and also marked the end of my forty three year journey to every racecourse in Great Britain. On the day I remember thinking back to twenty one year old Jason and his visit to Royal Ascot way back in June 1992, which was roughly at the halfway point of my quest. This was a time in my life of great uncertainty about the future. Even then though, I believe I would have been very confident that a final racecourse visit would take place. That I would ultimately complete the set. What this day would entail though and who would be involved would be a much tougher question. Something very hard to predict at that point. However, it would not have been too difficult for twenty-one year old me to imagine a really perfect scenario for such a day.

It would be wonderful if the day had a relaxed, fun and racing friendly atmosphere. Certainly I would want a day with great weather, largely sunny but not too hot. That I would have some wonderful family around me would be amazing but so hard to imagine back in 1992. What about a fabulous, supportive wife and a daughter who was developing her own passion for a day at the races. Sponsoring a race would definitely not have been on my radar back then either but why not, let’s go with that. My story could perhaps be featured in the racecard. That my dad would be there to witness this moment would be a key component to the perfect day, though the passage of time may make this unlikely. Some of my university friends being there would also be really good. Betting success would be a nice bonus for me and ideally my Dad too. What about both of us backing a few winners, my Dad getting not one but two of his legendary doubles up and me somehow backing a 20-1 winner. A winner that I also passed on to a great friend. Maybe, after my sponsored race, I could be interviewed by the racecourse presenter, one who I had much admired over the years, and not make a fool of myself! Oh yes, and it would be really brilliant to win the Placepot! Wow, what a magnificent day that would be…….and as described above, incredibly, fantastically it really was. Apart from the Placepot of course! In the intervening years between Ascot and Plumpton I had discovered that life is good, that I am very lucky man indeed, but you can’t have everything!

The arrangements for the day at my final new British racecourse were a fairly long time in the planning stage and took some careful consideration. I had always thought I would probably finish my journey at Sandown Park. After some initial investigation I was increasingly keen to go with the Plumpton option. I would sponsor a race on their season finale on May 12^th and book a meal in one of the racecourse restaurants. Two weeks earlier I would visit my penultimate racecourse, Sandown Park which would neatly coincide with my birthday, the day before. This was originally confirmed back in November 2023. This decision, to swop Plumpton and Sandown from the original plan ended up being a really good one. Having made this decision though I still had some more to make. What should I name my sponsored race, do I want to sponsor a chase or a hurdle race, who else is coming on the big day and where would we stay nearby, as Plumpton is way too far for a day trip. All this before we had to consider our menu choices for the day. It’s a tough life! On hand to help me with most of this was Plumpton’s sales manager Molly Taylor. From start to finish her efficiency and enthusiasm made the process both positive and pleasurable. This independently owned course is marketed as a hidden gem. It soon dawned on me in the preparations that it was genuinely crazy that I had left it so long to visit this lovely racecourse. More on that later!

I mention that the racecourse is independently owned for a reason. My understanding of the current structure of racecourse ownership is that there are two large groups of racecourses run by The Jockey Club and Arena Racing plus a series of independent courses. The latter, in my experience, are more likely to care about the racing experience of their customers. In my view The Jockey Club courses in particular are much more profit focused rather than racing focused. I have been to Haydock hundreds of times and witnessed the gradual transformation of the crowd from racing fans to drinking fans. Good for profits but rarely now providing my version of a great days racing. At Plumpton, on my big day, I felt like I mattered. I felt like the horse racing mattered. I honestly believe that would not have been the same had I stuck to my original plan with Sandown Park, a Jockey Club course, as my final new racecourse. Anyway, rant over, back to Plumpton where they really seem to have got the balance right, with racing rightly remaining at the heart of their offering.

In the months building up to my Plumpton visit I began reading The History of Plumpton Racecourse by Stewart Nash. I had enjoyed a similar book about Cartmel and thought it would add something to my visit being knowledgeable about its history. I really enjoyed reading about the progression of the course layout over the years. The extended chase course behind the stands sounds amazing and also totally illogical. The fact that dead heats were settled later that day in a race-off was somewhat surprising and brilliant. Also, that the course has its own train station, despite its very rural setting, no doubt helped sustain it through its 140 year history. A reminder that there was no racing commentary or race sponsorship until the 1950s and 1960s was also of note. A great book for racing fans with an interest in social history. In the months prior to the Plumpton meeting of the season I watched the racing there on TV with unrivalled enthusiasm and anticipation. I also made some decisions about the big day. The race I would sponsor would be a steeplechase. After consideration the race name was decided upon and menu choices made for myself and my six guests. Thankfully, my Dad was fit to make it and we would stay at for the weekend at a holiday cottage in nearby Uckfield with my wife Claire and daughter Rachel. In a wonderful development three great friends from university would also be in attendance at the races. We were ready. All we needed was the weather to stay kind.

On the day itself we arrived in good time and soon met up with Mark and Richard who were only a few cars behind us. We briefly took in our surroundings, heading for the front of the stands. There was a nice moment when my photos were displayed on the big screen as we walked towards our base for the day in glorious sunshine. There was also a decent looking line of bookmakers setting up for the day which I thought was an encouraging sign for a healthy betting market. We would be based for the afternoon in the Paddock restaurant which also featured Tote betting facilities and a balcony overlooking the final furlong. A great location. The table also included our complimentary racecards which would be of special interest. My featured pages in the racecard and on the big screen included four of my favourite racing photos. Of me and Claire at Haydock. Of our young family at Chepstow. Me at Brighton and my Dad and I at Doncaster. Alongside these photos were these words:

For Jason Tomlinson today marks the end of a forty three year journey to all the racecourses of Great Britain, starting with his local track Haydock Park way back in 1981. As a teenager Jason explored most of the northern circuit of racecourses. Then, the University of Leicester became a great base from which to access the many courses in and around the midlands. Over many years the tougher to get to Scottish, Welsh and southern courses have been integrated into a lifetime of racing trips and family holidays, culminating in today’s celebrations. Jason is here with a group of family and friends who have all been a part of his quest. In achieving a lifelong ambition Jason wants to thank his family and in particular his Dad John, who was the inspiration for this enjoyable and rewarding journey.

It was great to have three fantastic friends at Plumpton, in contrasting but highly predictable attire. Nick had, as expected, taken the dress to feel comfortable racecourse advice to heart and turned up super casual. Somewhere between finishing a day’s plastering and just nipping to the shop for some milk. Love that guy. Mark, in a flamboyant shirt became an unexpected paddock watcher as the day progressed, making judgement on horse’s appearance and wellbeing before placing a bet. All three had played a part in my journey over the years starting with visits to Leicester races when we were all students there between 1989 and 1992. I would stay with Nick in Bristol prior to him taking me to Bath races for the first time. Much later Mark’s family home in Essex at that time would be my base for a visit to the brand new nearby Chelmsford racecourse. Richard, who joined me at Leicester races on occasion, confessed that he had not really heard of Plumpton racecourse, which to him sounded fictional. I have heard similar comments about Fakenham over the years. Richard had arrived via the nearby Plumpton Green and speculated about this clearly being the inspiration for the names of the iconic children’s TV shows Trumpton and Camberwick Green. To be fair, I’ve heard worse theories. It soon became clear, in early racing conversations and in preparing to put on a Placepot the three, after all these years, were relatively inexperienced racegoers. Nick and Richard’s last visit to the races had been my 40^th Birthday do at Haydock Park thirteen years earlier.

The food in the restaurant was good but not plentiful. The serving staff were plentiful but ironically the service was not good! This is often the case on these days as temporary staff try to manage the timings in a very busy restaurant where the diners are keen to do other things, particularly once the racing starts. Later, in order to finish our meaI we had to watch one of the races at our table on the restaurant TV screens. Earlier, I had greatly enjoyed ex jockey David Crosse in his role of racecourse tipster for the hundred or so diners in the Paddock restaurant. He was very entertaining, achieving a good balance of comedy banter and informative racing selections. He discussed each race but basically told us he was obliged to do so. His main suggestion was to largely ignore everything he had said to that point as he had only one horse worthy of a serious bet on the day. The strong way he delivered this specific tip meant many in the room would confidently bet on Yalla Habibi later on in race five.

Early indications regarding my own betting success were very positive and their initial inspiration came from a very unlikely source indeed. The night before in our cottage I was studying the form on my iPad looking for a few good bets at the non Plumpton racecourses on my big day. Next to me, my Dad was reading an encyclopaedia he had brought with him. This exclusively dealt with the letters S and T. In an outrageous co-incidence my Dad was reading about Danish composer Igor Stravinsky whilst I was assessing and discussing with him the chances of racehorse Igor Stravinsky in the first race at Leopardstown! The horse had solid credentials too following a debut second and is trained by none other than Aiden O’Brien. This second favourite would be my first bet of the day. Whilst an unusual method of identifying winners I can report this process now has a hundred percent strike rate. The horse hit all the right notes under the urgings of Wayne Lordan to provide me with an early winner. I then quickly followed this up with a 7-1 winner in the first race at Plumpton. The grey Illegal D’ainay getting the better of the popular favourite Global Esteem. No winner for anyone in race two where the favourite fell when beaten. The race was won by top weight Sandy Brook. This meant two out of two for regular winning trainer at Plumpton Chris Gordon. This would impact on the betting in race three where his Small Bad Bog was made favourite but ultimately found the Paul Nicholl’s trained Toothless too strong. This would be a key winner for my Dad, my daughter Rachel and others in the group and at much better than expected odds. One I should have backed myself really. I had opposed it expecting it to go off 2-1 not 4-1. Ah well. A winner for me at Ludlow, owned by JP MacManus eased the pain. Ez Tiger won the next race for Alex Hales at a big price and was never considered by any of our party. I had lasted longest on the Placepot but we were all now down.

It was time for us to collectively step up our game from a betting perspective. Coincidently and conveniently, it was also time for David Crosse’s best bet in race five, Yalla Habibi. We all understandably planned to back this short priced favourite that had won its two previous outings, especially given that prior to this race David had established further credibility by highlighting a winner or two and a decent priced placed runner. In discussion about the race though, I did mention at our table that even the outsider of the five had a chance and that its last race had been at Aintree in a much better race than this. My friend Mark took note and both of us had an optimistic £5 each way on this big priced contender, Tronador. Half way through the race Mark wished he hadn’t listened to me. Tronador was last and under pressure, many lengths behind the other four when they passed us with a circuit to go. I apologised to Mark but also said never say never. In truth, I would happily have accepted a £1 for my £10 bet at this point. Four minutes later it was worth £120! Turning for home as the rivals ahead started to weaken, surprisingly including a disappointing Yalla Habibi, the resurgent Tronador stayed on gamely to take the prize. A fantastic moment.

What followed was a brief anti-climax to the race. When collecting my winnings from an already agitated bookmaker I politely asked not to be paid in the £50 notes he was gathering. He was not happy at all saying he had to take them, legal tender etc. etc. I am pretty sure he has never tried to spend one in Burnley! Ultimately a compromise was reached but it is worth mentioning the generally poor effort from the course bookmakers on this day. Whilst there were quite a few in attendance often poor value prices were being offered, especially by those at the fringes of the busy betting lines. Also, with their varied individual terms on certain races they were exploiting not serving and certainly not entertaining my inexperienced racing friends. Over the years I have greatly enjoyed this aspect of the racing, the wonder of the betting market. I have also had some great encounters and banter with various bookmakers. Whether they want to be or not they are part of the racing spectacle and it’s disappointing when they become a negative element of the raceday experience. In fairness, I do understand the challenges they face from online competition and no doubt other factors working against them, absolutely including the occasional difficult customer! Anyway, an unfortunate niggle just at the wrong moment as it was almost time for my race. We all quickly placed some bets on it and as we walked back to our table right on cue Molly appeared to take us to the parade ring.

Our first job was to pick the best turned out horse. With only four to choose from this would surely be a simple procedure. However, the winning stable hand gets £100 and it was obvious that all four had made a real effort to win it. After a couple of laps of the parade ring it was becoming clearer that either Copperhead or Northern Poet deserved the prize most. Copperhead stood out somewhat as the only chestnut and was nearly given the nod, but in the end we decided on Northern Poet whose mane was neatly plaited and looked generally fantastic. We are clearly good judges of horse flesh, perhaps with Mark’s influence, as the two finished first and second. This was a wonderful twenty minutes or so stood in the centre of the lovely Plumpton parade ring. For me personally, a very special feeling, a culmination of over forty years attending race meetings. Time happily slowed down as we watched the horses parade, took various photos, talked with Molly about Plumpton and saw the jockeys mount and prepare to race. As they set off for my sponsored race commentator Mike Cattermole read out the race title as he is obliged to do. A few minutes earlier though, prior to the start he had kindly commented on my achievement to the four thousand strong crowd.

The race itself was largely uneventful but certainly not boring for a four horse race. I was confident that these experienced chasers would all get round, especially given decent prize money for all finishers. Early on the pace was set by Blade Runner. In truth the race only really began to take shape on the final circuit when Copperhead’s jumping saw him initially take control of the race from Blade Runner with Northern Poet and in particular Jacamar toiling in behind. As they turned for home though there was more than a hint that this could be an exciting finish. Copperhead was only keeping on at the one pace in front. Significantly Northern Poet had now found a change of gear and was soon passing Blade Runner for second who himself was rallying to the cause. As they jumped the second last there was only three lengths between the front three and the margins between them were closing. The home straight is not that long at Plumpton though and Northern Poet never got closer than around two lengths as Copperhead responded to his jockey’s encouragement. A great victory for the emerging talent that is conditional jockey Freddie Gingell and trainer Joe Tizzard. Thankfully, as expected, all four completed the course and returned safely. The majority of our group had backed Copperhead. Nick and I being the exceptions I believe. You would think after visiting all of the British racecourses, attending hundreds of days at the races and watching literally thousands and thousands of races I would be able to correctly pick the winner of a four horse race, especially when choosing two selections. But No! Even worse than that though Copperhead was actually the first horse that I eliminated in my detailed form assessment. An unreliable type often beaten when favourite. To be fair, earlier in his racing career Copperhead was a very promising young chaser winning five times including decent races at Newbury and Ascot. This win though was his first in over four years.

Following the race I had the pleasure of presenting a trophy to the winning owner, Mrs Pritchard and her husband, who seemed to be a lovely old couple. We then had some photos taken by the official photographer. Next, quite suddenly there was a microphone in front of me and some questions. I briefly reflected on my journey to all the racecourses and discussed the merits of my latest racecourse Plumpton. It went pretty well and I was genuinely relaxed and felt like I was simply having a one to one chat. There were a few dozen people still around the winner’s enclosure who were engaged in our conversation and hopefully a percentage of the thousands in attendance listening around the course too. Following this, we still had just enough time to enjoy a rerun of the race in the winning connections suite, including a quick chat with the owners, a glass of bubbly and assorted snacks. At this point Richard had ducked out briefly, anxious to collect his winnings as soon as possible, much to my amusement. My interview questions came from the racecourse announcer for the day, Lee Mackenzie. I first came across Lee as the commentator on my visit to Exeter way back in 1986. In the initial preparation for my race presentation he had questioned how I had possibly left the wonderful Plumpton to be my last racecourse. He had a point and being based in the south it was one of the first he had visited. So geography was very much a part of the answer. Reflecting on this later though I saw the specific reason it was so late on my journey. It is that Plumpton has no fixtures in the school holidays from the end of May to the end of August. Typically, this is when we would take a week’s family holiday down south and I would sneak in a visit to the likes of Newton Abbot, Salisbury, Windsor, Fontwell and Brighton. After this early May meeting Plumpton do not race again until the end of September. I really enjoyed my encounter and interview with Lee. Later via Molly, the poor guy ended up with a copy of my book!

For the last race my Dad and I did not join the others up in the stands but watched the concluding bumper at the rail, around half a furlong from home. Just prior to the off my Dad became quite emotional about the day he had just witnessed, the completion of my journey and in particular being part of this quality family time. He was just really glad he had come. And so was I. It was something I hoped would happen but at various stages over the last few years health considerations would have made him a non-runner. For him to be there on this day was genuinely special. As if the racing gods where tuned into the situation, fittingly the final race itself was won by my Dad’s choice Dance And Glance who beat my selection (and the unlucky Nick’s) The Sainted Canary ten lengths behind in second. For the second time in an hour I had to accompany my Dad to the William Hill betting shop to clear them out of twenty pounds notes. Two successful doubles for him which had centred on my big race. Fantastic. Cheers to the resurgent Copperhead for that. 

Writing this in June 2024 I have had a little time to reflect on the achievement and can also report on some developments since. Firstly, much to my wife’s dismay, I have discovered this is not the end of the story, just the last stop of my journey to new racecourses. I am still going racing regularly of course! In May my daughter Rachel and I went to York. Her first visit and a return for me after quite some time. It was a quality Saturday card and we were able to explore some of York’s impressive new facilities. Certainly a day for me that highlighted the benefits of returning to courses years later!  For the last twenty years or so I have looked at the fixtures on my Injured Jockeys Calendars and been proud of the diminishing number of courses I have left to visit. Now, strangely there aren’t any. After all this time I can’t believe I have done it. Soon after the Plumpton meeting I received a wonderful e-mail from Lee McKenzie who congratulated me again on my achievement but also said how much he had been enjoying my book. Getting feedback like this from racing enthusiasts has been one of the best things about writing it. I also received an e-mail from Molly which included some amazing professional photography from my race. I plan to get a canvas produced of the four runners down at the start. I have also watched my race again several times, especially the start where my race name gets a mention! I have kept a close eye out for the runners from my race competing again but it would seem they were all running in it prior to a summer break. In addition I have been monitoring owner Mrs. Pritchard's other horse Belgarum who managed to win at Newton Abbot recently. Looking ahead, I am very much looking forward to watching Plumpton on TV in September. Having gone to a course you really do see it next with a new perspective. I would absolutely love to return to Plumpton at some point. Given my Dad is still going racing at thirty years my senior I am hoping I still have plenty of time left for more fantastic racing days and more wonderful memories.  

Ffos Las Racecourse

 

Racecourse number: 57

First visited: 2022

Number of visits: 1

Speaking of long journeys, in May 2022, the Tomlinson clan were at it again. This time a trip to Ffos Las racecourse in deepest, but certainly not darkest, Wales. On this six hour jaunt I was very conscious of my terrible betting record at Welsh racecourses. On my only two other visits, to Bangor-On-Dee and later Chepstow, I had backed an unimpressive total of no winners. To be fair I had no bets at Bangor in those patient days were I was happy to have no bet if the price was not right. At Chepstow though my efforts had been particularly miserable. Surely I could do better at Ffos Las where the card contained only a limited number of runners at this national hunt fixture. We were attending a beer & cider festival race night and then staying for a couple of nights at a nearby hotel in Llanelli. More on that later.

The racecourse is remotely located but on arrival I was fairly impressed with the set up though it was, to a large extent, very much what I expected. The positive difference perhaps being the beautiful Welsh countryside that surrounded it and the very warm bright sunny evening that we were treated to that night. In truth the facilities are somewhat standard. One main reasonable stand with ample space in front and behind it. There is good viewing of a perfectly flat oval shaped left-handed course which holds both flat and jump racing. What was absent though was course character. It was almost like the quirkiness I love about courses like Brighton had been straightened and flattened out. As we were taking some initial photos of me at Ffos Las, the real theme of the evening began to show itself. Behind me in the first photo we took, around an hour before the first race, is a middle aged man dancing away merrily on his own to non-existent music! The number of drunken racegoers would increase as the night went on. Our plan was always to have our evening meal at the track before racing began. The choices were not as good as hoped for but we soon got stuck into a variety of burgers, chicken, chips and soft drinks. The quality was average for this kind of thing but the high price point was the most interesting. Just low enough to actually pay for the food rather than spending the evening hungry. Not quite high enough to report the incident to the nearest security team member to complain of being mugged!

My daughter Rachel would be heavily engaged in the racing activity with me whilst wife Claire and son Jake now seem to form a duo of reluctant attendees, only occasionally showing interest in the proceedings. Rachel had done her prep and was confident with her first race analysis. She had the winner clearly identified and the most likely danger also earmarked. I agreed with her and ultimately the first race result was just as expected, our selection beating the main danger. Leading Theatre won for trainer Fergal O’Brien and jockey Max Kendrick, though the duo had to work harder than expected to seal the deal after the final hurdle. A good start and my first ever Welsh winner. It only took one more race though for my traditional Welsh luck to return though! In the second race the best I could do was second, as did Rachel. The winner Boston Joe was winning its first race though for an out of form trainer Rebecca Curtis. I can handle those kind of results as I was never considering backing this winner. In the third race though I made a classic mistake, I switched from the most obvious winner, backed by Rachel, to the well backed bottom weight trained by the now resurgent Rebecca Curtis. Rachel’s selection Balkardy outstayed the outsider of the field despite looking held between the final two fences to give her two winners from three races. We were down the course adjacent to the final fence which gave us a close up view of Balkardy jumping the last well two lengths behind then within yards of the fence seizing the lead.

Having missed an obvious winner, I was now a bit frustrated, tired after a long day, whilst Rachel was considering whether she had had her last bet of the night with a good profit now secured. Races four and six were very tricky and in my preparation I had not nearly solved the puzzles presented by these handicap hurdles. The racecard offered me little new information and the historical form shown normally in betting shops or in a Racing Post were not available. Displayed newspaper form had been replaced by digitised screens which offered no detailed information.  In a vain attempt to get a winner a spread my stake around following the odd gamble, sticking with some initial inklings and generally guessing. Meanwhile Rachel had no bets and watched my selections never really get competitive. In hindsight I could maybe have backed both winners. A 22-1 handicap debutant winner trained by no less than Nicky Henderson and a Sam Twiston-Davies ridden winner on his only ride of the night! A winner at Salisbury helped my confidence and morale a little but racing wise the main drama of the evening was in race five, another hurdle race but with just five contenders.

Confident of victory from John Betjemen, Rachel invested some of her profits in what would be her final bet of the evening. I was on the favourite John Betjemen too but also had a bet on Chasamix, for the Henderson and De Boinville combination, who had just won the previous race. The bright and low sun meant the hurdles in the home straight were dolled off and not to be jumped, with the runners having to compete in the small gap between the hurdles and fences. This adjustment would have a big impact on the race. Turning for home it was clear the race would be fought out by our two selections. John Betjemen was ridden by the less experienced conditional jockey Fergus Gillard. The two horses and jockeys fought out a thrilling finish with ultimately John Betjemen getting the better of things close home, much to Rachel’s delight. A twist was coming though as quite quickly the claxon indicating a steward’s enquiry was sounded. The head on replay was shown on the big screen and the two protagonists were very close together all the way up the straight in the small gap between courses. It was clear the winner had also bumped the second horse at least twice. I thought the result could easily be changed, though the outcome of these enquiries can sometimes defy logic. In this case the fact that the inexperienced jockey had bumped the established professional jockey made me quite confident the result would change. It took a good while for them to decide but ultimately the first and second places were reversed by the stewards. Rachel was annoyed and also very unlucky to have a winner disqualified. I have been racing and betting for thirty plus years and have only lost a handful of races in this way.

Despite this being a jump racing fixture the only fallers on the night were humans not horses. The beer and cider festival focus meant there were drunken people everywhere. I witnessed two very drunk people taking bad tumbles. One in particular fell right in front of the packed stands and comically failed to get back to his feet without the help of his slightly less drunk friends! There was no bad drunken behaviour on show to be fair. Sadly, because of the drinking focus there was little crowd engagement in the racing itself. This was not helped by the tanoy system failing to be heard over the noise of the crowd, many racegoers not realising a race was on until the horses went past on the first circuit. It was also difficult to move around the betting ring, with groups of drinkers and many discarded disposable pint glasses impeding free movement. All this contributed to what in a few senses was a disappointing night. Racing seemingly is failing to attract a crowd engaged in its core product and that saddens me. Also the tired Tomlinsons were not at their harmonious best. Worst of all, I had failed to adequately prepare in my ongoing battle with the bookmakers. Approaching the final race, a bumper with limited form clues, instead of assessing the race, I engaged with the theme of the evening and had a locally brewed pint of cider. It was very refreshing to be fair. If you can’t beat them join them! So I did, briefly before leaving prior to the final race. Horse racing definitely needs to do better, but reflecting on this evening, so do I. I had been schooled in the art of betting by my teenage daughter who, despite bad luck, had profitably negotiated this tricky racecard. Rachel’s interest in horse racing as a fun day out is a real positive for me and gives me some hope for the future. She is in a significant minority though and the following day, the death of racing legend Lester Piggott made me reflect more on the problem. Simply the very presence of Lester himself at the racecourse would swell crowd numbers massively from the 1950’s into the 1990s. What can racing do to get crowds to the races without the need to attract them with non-racing activities? This is something I will ponder and write about further as I complete my journey to all the racecourses of Great Britain. Four courses left.

A positive footnote to this story is that the rest of our stay in Wales was a delight. The best selections of the weekend were actually made by Claire, the choices of staying at the Diplomat Hotel in Llanelli and our visit to Pembrey Country Park the day after the Ffos Las meeting. The hotel was very traditional, family owned and I really liked it compared to the standard offering of a chain hotel. The staff seemed to really be engaged in you having a good stay, the rooms were good and facilities excellent. Best of all, we were even entertained by their own female version of Basil Fawlty running the Sunday morning breakfast. She was both impressively attentive and comically forgetful! The rest of the Sunday was spent at Pembrey Country Park on what was mainly a beautiful sunny day. A walk round a car boot sale, followed by cycling on hired bikes and then a skiing lesson for Jake. An amazing council owned space with fabulous facilities right next to the beach. A Welsh weekend break with a difference for sure but it was certainly nice to finally back a couple of Welsh winners.

Wolverhampton Racecourse

 

Racecourse number: 25

First visited: 1991

Number of visits: 2

My two visits to Wolverhampton racecourse in the 1990s marked some very big changes for both the racecourse and for myself. In November 1991 Wolverhampton racecourse was a traditional, solid, left handed national hunt grass circuit. When I returned in May 1995 the surface, like the lighting, was now artificial. The racecard promised “Racing as you have never seen it before,” at Europe’s first floodlit racecourse! The Queen had opened the new course in 1994. By my second visit my time spent around Leicester was coming to an end and a key aspect of my future was about to be agreed. More on that later. Back in November 1991 I was really excited to attend Wolverhampton for the first time. It was my twenty-fifth racecourse and being aged just twenty I was literally on course to visit them all. Like Nottingham the racecourse is quite a walk from the train station and also passes a local football stadium, in this case Molineux, home of Wolverhampton Wanderers.

I did some lengthy wandering of my own to get to the course, eventually following some bloke carrying a Racing Post to get to my destination. Once there I was ready to explore these wonderful new surroundings and perhaps place just one bet. Whatever You Like, trained by Nicky Henderson was a favourite horse of mine from around that time. If I could get the price I wanted that was my bet. If not, I was confident that the Martin Pipe Racing Club runner Passed Pawn would win the claiming hurdle a little later. When I was offered even money on Whatever You Like I snapped it up and almost felt sorry for the hapless bookmaker who had clearly lost focus. I was very much minded that if he got round OK in this two mile chase he would win. Indeed, I felt he was far superior to second favourite Highfire, trained by Kim Bailey. As the race developed my runner sat in second place behind Highfire, initially jumping well. However as they jumped what would be the last fence in a circuits time, my certainty blundered badly, clouting the fence. It was a seriously good piece of horsemanship from Richard Dunwoody to stay on board.

As the contest developed, avoiding that fall looked like a race defining moment. As the field began the turn for home Whatever You Like was starting to get the better of a protracted battle with Highfire and Sikera Spy. It would take a major effort for any of the others to get involved, who were now a little way behind and had already dismissed by me pre-race from a form point of view. My leader was now four lengths clear three fences out. At this point I was already planning my route back to my foolish bookmaker when I noticed one of the also rans from the back of the field starting to gather some serious momentum. Two out we were still leading but Dunwoody’s previous confident aura was now being replaced by a forceful drive on a clearly very tired favourite. The strong pace combined with the bad mistake was starting to take its toll. I was still hopeful that the leader’s class would come into play as he approached the last now being challenged by the well named Major Effort! The two briefly dueled after the last but my bet was soon destined to be a loser as Whatever You Like was unable to quicken after his staying on rival.

A fairly dramatic race resulting in a three length defeat. Whatever You Like would likely have won without the bad mistake but that is very much the nature of the game, so I had no complaints really. A month later he did win a similar race at Lingfield. Of course, just an hour later Passed Pawn won the claiming hurdle with ease, ridden from the front, as usual, by Peter Scudamore at 8-13. The race in between was actually a grade two contest, The Reynoldstown Cup, a hurdle race won by Bollin Patrick. I am so glad I went to this meeting prior to the massive change that was coming at Wolverhampton racecourse. I may never have backed a winner at the old set up but I have really fond memories of that day. Incredibly, the trainers of the first three home in Whatever You Like’s race namely Oliver Sherwood, Nicky Henderson and Kim Bailey all still train as I write in December 2021, over thirty years later!

Four years later I was back at Dunstall Park, the newly created Wolverhampton racecourse which now featured an all-weather surface, floodlights and an on-course hotel. The original old stand was still there at this point, awaiting demolition, looking lost and lonely way beyond the new winning post location. Accompanying me on this visit was my long term girlfriend Claire. We had a meal and hotel room booked for the evening which would allow a very unusual combination – a night of watching The Eurovision Song Contest on TV in between some live low grade all-weather flat racing! Not for everyone I am sure but we both shared an interest in Eurovision, at a time when the structure meant the United Kingdom were still competitive. The new racing set up at Wolverhampton was quite impressive and certainly different. Watching racing under floodlights was indeed a new experience. However, the low grade racing, even on a Saturday had not really captured the imagination of the local racing fans. The attendance was low and the atmosphere could only be described as soulless. Low grade racing and only a small number of spectators is not a great combination. No surprise then that I have no great tales of excitement from the nights racing. I do remember we showed more speed than my selections to keep nipping back to our room between races to watch various song contest entrants. Claire remembers fondly the Lasagne she had that night but little else! Looking back at the racing results winning jockeys included John Carroll, Simon Whitworth, Jason Weaver and Franny Norton who like the trainers noted above is still active on the racing circuit. For completeness I can report Norway won the Eurovision Song Contest with the song Nocturne by Secret Garden. The United Kingdom performed respectably with Love by City Groove back in tenth place. An unusual but very enjoyable evening.

Looking at the racecard from 1995 quite a bit of focus was given to the trotting racing taking place at that time. There also seemed to be a tight grass circuit in place. I have vague memories of an abortive attempt to stage national hunt racing again there in these early days of the new Wolverhampton circuit but I could definitely be making that up. The course these days seems entirely focused on all-weather flat racing and with around eighty annual fixtures has become a significant feature of our eclectic racing heritage. I am so pleased to have seen this transformation of the course first hand. The day following my second visit to Wolverhampton racecourse Claire and I made a significant decision. Following the upcoming end of her time as a student in Leicester we agreed she would come to live with me here in Lancashire, but not before we were engaged to be married. A few weeks later I popped the big question, as instructed, in the romantic setting of the botanical gardens in Leicester. However, in reality this key decision was really taken at a Pizza restaurant not far from the new all-weather racecourse at Dunstall Park, Wolverhampton!

Brighton Racecourse

 

Racecourse number: 56 

First visited: 2021

Number of visits: 2

Having tried to get to Brighton more than once in the last few years I was absolutely thrilled to finally be there. On this middle day of their three day summer festival I was joined by the other Tomlinsons. In reality, of the three, only my daughter Rachel had any genuine enthusiasm for proceedings. In fact it was a big day for her too in a sense. Earlier in the summer she had turned eighteen and was looking forward to placing her first legal bets on course. Now, as a family arriving at a racecourse we have had some fun and games over the years so it was great that Brighton decided to contribute to this crazy collection of stories. Queueing to have our pre-booked entry tickets scanned and our bags checked we were approached by a serious looking gentleman who simply asked. “Are either of your children under sixteen?” I was unsure where he was heading with this, given our pre-booked tickets. In the back of my mind was a flicker of hope relating to free popcorn or ice cream vouchers. I replied with the truthful answer, one of them, very conscious he had probably already insulted Rachel by asking his question. Incredibly, I was then presented with a lost child bracelet for fourteen year old Jake and asked to fill it out with parents name and contact number before ensuring he was wearing it. This was frankly ridiculous. I could understand the benefit of this for much younger children on a busier family day but for a fourteen year old with a mobile phone. Really! Jake did not wear the bracelet and fortunately managed to avoid getting lost. We would soon discover the Brighton enclosures do not cover an enormous amount of space making the scenario even more ludicrous. Nevertheless once we were in I was keen to explore these spaces and find out what Brighton had to offer.

The course design, geography and structure have always been of great interest to me. The television camera footage has always been intriguing. A bit like Fontwell racecourse you really need to go there to fully appreciate its distinctiveness. Also like Fontwell going there surprised me to some extent but in a very good way. Over the next two days I would grow very fond of Brighton racecourse. Mainly because the characteristics of the racecourse are as distinctive and colourful as the residents of this quirky city by the sea. The final straight is unusually undulating. Initially it is a charge downhill which levels off before a notable rise approaching the final furlong. Close to the line the course levels off perhaps even slightly downhill again as they hit the winning post. Another significant aspect is that you can only see the final three and a half furlongs of the course unless you are way up in the stands. Otherwise the roughly horse shoe shaped track is obscured by a line of trees placed opposite the grandstand and viewing areas. What would normally be the centre of the course, behind the trees, is actually a residential area but one that sits much lower than the racecourse itself. What? The television image that always sticks with me regarding Brighton is the blocks of flats below the runners in the background as they approach two furlongs to go. I get it now but it remains a very unusual and interesting sight. The fact that the course is not a circuit is also quite unusual, as is how far the runners are from the grandstand when middle distance races are run. The former issue is resolved at the end of races by an odd two furlong uphill section after the finish line which allows the runners to pull up. Finally and wonderfully the fact that the sea can be seen in the distance at various vantage points really add to its unique flavour. A great example of why course diversity adds something to the different racecourse experiences. Hopefully my review makes some sense. Either way, a visit is highly recommended.

Before racing commenced Rachel and I headed to the parade ring to watch and listen to the advertised punters panel, a preview of the days racing. Something I normally enjoy and often take away some key information from. Three experts were on hand to point us in the right direction. Ex jockey Colin Brown, the raceday presenter was joined by excellent commentator Mark Johnson. The third member of the panel I did not know but seemed to be a locally well-known ex rugby player. The three of them proceeded to go through the card at a sparsely attended parade ring. Perhaps the regulars knew what I was about to find out. This would be a way below average effort not helped by an imperfect tanoy system and the need for the three of them to pass around the only microphone. Colin, flamboyantly dressed, did his best to organise proceedings but the presentation was far from slick. Often they would digress to irrelevant historical information, engage in tiresome banter/in-jokes between themselves and attempt almost pantomime comedy. "You always pick the favourite", "no you always pick the favourite". Annoyingly they did not seem tuned in to market movements overnight meaning their appreciation of the current betting markets was confused. Worst of all they took what seemed like forever to get to the real point of why we were stood there. What they thought would win each race. Rachel summed it up when half way through she simply stated “these guys are well boring!” Ironically there was some comedy gold coming right up, though it was very much unintended. When introducing the fifth race Colin thanked the sponsors Donatello restaurant stating they were a great supporter of the racecourse. He then quipped quite amusingly that his fellow panellist, the ex-rugby player, was a great supporter of the Restaurant. Amazingly the said panelist then talked briefly about the restaurant before concluding it’s not the best food there, but it’s certainly not the worst! Talk about looking after your sponsors! Shocking. He had stated that even when they are busy they always find him a good table. If word of this is passed on I think he will be sat next to the toilets on future visits, if they let him in at all. Possibly I was struggling to tune in to the southern style of these panels. Certainly I was longing for the likes of Gordon Brown who does this job brilliantly up North.

Oisin Murphy was very much in my thoughts from a betting point of view. He was riding out of his skin at this moment. His five mounts all had chances and so I had him backed him to have at least a winning treble. Whilst he had only one winner at Windsor on Monday his week had got progressively better. The previous night at Kempton he achieved a fantastic five timer. Overnight, there had been a lot of betting support for today’s runners with four of his five rides now favourite.  Meanwhile, Rachel was also ready for her first bet. To make it nice and easy the first race had only four runners. I had narrowed it down to two. Unfortunately Rachel was tempted by the seemingly attractive odds on the outsider of four. Surely this contender could not be ruled out, especially wearing first time blinkers. Her first investment was thus on a 50-1 shot, though positively she managed to secure 66-1, the best price seen. Her Dad was therefore quite proud, before the race at least. When Swift Pusey finished a distant fourth of four no one was surprised and Rachel quickly began to re-evaluate her strategy. Her Dad however had backed his first Brighton winner on course. Over the next two days I would back quite a few more.

Race two saw Rachel place a more sensible bet. With her brother Jake she had evaluated the contenders in the paddock and was between the striking grey Rawyaan (who I fancied) and the Mark Johnston trained Turn Back Time. She backed the latter each way, on this occasion having to produce her ID to get the bet accepted. Turn Back Time ran a great race and looked all over the winner until the inexperienced Rawyaan suddenly got his act together and flew home at generous odds to make it two from two for Dad. Collecting her winnings for her second place eased her frustration a little having nearly backed Rawyaan. In the next two races she joined me in backing short priced favourites Big Boy Bobby and Ravens Ark ridden by Oisin Murphy. Earlier his first runner was well beaten but a treble from his four remaining rides was still a possibility for my overnight bet. We watched the run of Big Boy Bobby down at the furlong pole and as the runners approached us things were not looking too good for our bet. Oisin looked in a tricky position, seemingly trapped behind a trio of horses, though not too far off the lead. As he passed the Tomlinsons I had the audacity to shout “Come On Oisin, What are you doing!” His non-verbal reply was to switch his mount slightly, force his way through the crowd then grab firstly the rail and then, yards from the line, the lead. Absolute class. I should have known better. Quiet please Jason, genius at work. Half an hour later, Oisin had another winner, when Ravens Ark scrambled home from a similarly unpromising position. What a jockey! Enthused, Rachel stated she was really enjoying herself. So was I. She had now collected three times and was showing an overall profit of £11. Having recorded her bets on her phone she declared her betting was done for the day. Top effort Rachel.

The weather at Brighton was quite pleasant as the day began, though perhaps a little windy and unsettled. However it was clear as the day progressed that the increasingly menacing skies would eventually change things. In fact earlier in the day one of the locals had expressed concern for me that I was in a shirt and had no coat. He was unaware my wife Claire was carrying a jumper in her high fashion bag she had brought for the occasion. One of those bags that looks quite a sensible size but can contain an unfathomable about of stuff! He was right to be concerned about the weather though, soon after race four conditions began to deteriorate. In turn, so did the other Tomlinson's enthusiasm for our continued presence on course. Given I was coming back for more tomorrow I was quite relaxed about leaving early. We watched one more race without betting success before getting a taxi back to our hotel. There I watched the final two races on my iPad, including a third winner for Oisin Murphy giving me a successful, though short priced treble. I had backed five of the seven winners on the day with my conservative approach of backing a couple in each race and I was already looking forward to going back on Friday.

Just under twenty-four hours later, while the other Tomlinsons were busy shopping and playing mini-golf, I was back at Brighton racecourse. Three race meetings in one week felt really good but the strange weather that Brighton seemed to feature continued. I think conditions could be best described as sunny but changeable with high winds. Based on what I was wearing I spent various periods feeling too hot and then too cold. Unlike my previous racing days that week there was no Oisin Murphy to follow. Ironically he had targeted my local course Haydock Park for his winners. On my second visit to the punters panel they were still droning on using many of the same jokes from the day before, Mark Johnson having been replaced by commentator Simon Holt. No you always tip the favourite! Speaking of drones a new feature had now appeared at the racecourses of Great Britain, well above them at least. Just before the start of each race a group of drones would appear perhaps a hundred metres high ready to provide overhead camera footage for those looking to make bets on the in running markets. My understanding is that these provide a better angle and importantly split second earlier coverage than other options. The issue is that the racecourse have no control over their operation as they exist in legally free to enter airspace. There is no doubt this story will develop further and I am hoping that ultimately it will provide racecourses with a beneficial commercial opportunity. For now their presence is a new and intriguing part of the racecourse experience.

I would complete a hat trick of successful betting days starting with a comfortable win for Spreadsheet ridden by Charlie Bennett. In the winners enclosure I watched on as the victorious jockey returned to applause and was then interviewed by Hayley Moore for Sky Sports Racing. She had performed these duties on the Thursday also and one thing had become clear to me as I observed her work at these two meetings. She loves her job which she is very good at. She is constantly smiling, happy to interact with racegoers when she is free and can even sometimes be seen skipping around the paddock in between interviews. It was great to see and I am certainly a fan. My other three winners on the day were Pagan, an impressive short priced favourite, Merlin’s Beard who out battled the also well named Hooves Like Jagger and El Camino. Being on my own I watched on from various new vantage points, often within the Premier Enclosure which I seemed to have free access to. David Probert was the star jockey on the day securing a treble, Murphy style.

The most notable and dramatic incident of the day though took place in the feature event, the five furlong “Brighton Bullet” which was won emphatically by my selection Pagan. Just as the winner crossed the line, Tin Hat ridden by apprentice Georgia Dobie was in last place and seemed to swerve violently left hitting the rail on the opposite side from the grandstand. The result was both the horse and jockey did an uncontrolled summersault before hitting the ground. The horse, twice tried to stand up but could not and this gelding’s efforts were distressing to see. Meanwhile Georgia had not moved. Now this kind of thing is unusual on a racecourse, especially at a flat meeting and whatever you think of the issues surrounding racehorse and jockey welfare, the reaction of all concerned was impressive. Within seconds the horse was attended by stable staff who had sprinted to be aside him. Similarly the course vet who follows the runners by car was quickly parked next to the horse sensibly obscuring the scene from the full grandstand. Interestingly the horse was attended by four individuals before anyone even checked on the jockey who was now beginning to sit up. Security staff put up the familiar green screens around the stricken horse and we waited. Pretty much everyone did. As it became clear the jockey was fine two thoughts dominated my thinking as this scene played out. Firstly, I was hoping that the initial failed attempts of the horse to get up were due to exhaustion and shock rather than significant injury. Whilst I am no vet my instinct and previous experience of this scenario told me all could be well. Secondly, what a terrible incident this was to happen right in front of a packed stand. I could only remember this happening once before in all my racing days at a Leicester flat meeting back in 1990. Then a horse called Easy Prep had broken a leg in the final furlong. That was not a happy ending. Here, we waited and hoped. After about five minutes a ripple of applause way up in the stand was followed by a more convincing and then vociferous one when Tin Hat’s head appeared above the screen. Within a moment the horse jogged away uninjured, the screens were removed and the horse ambulance withdrew unused. A great result but a startling reminder of the dangers to horse and jockey engaging in the sport I love.

Meanwhile, about five hundred miles further north, at Musselburgh I had backed Wise Eagle for new trainer Adam Nicol. Adam had fairly recently hung up his riding boots following various injuries as a jockey and was now focused on establishing himself as a trainer. If he can find a few more to train like Wise Eagle he will go far. Another win for his stable star, his sixth of 2021 and another one for me. No sneaking off early today though, I stayed to the seventh and final race before meeting up with the other Tomlinsons at a not quite as nearby as I thought Pizza Hut. I waited for the last race as I had a confident selection in King Crimson. With effective urgings from Grace McEntee my selection seemed to have the race in control as they passed me with a hundred yards to run. Not for the first time though, an opponent charging up the far rail got some important final momentum forcing a photograph, a close one. On a day for well named horses, the slow motion replay showed we had been out nodded on the line by Breezyandbright. Ouch. A short head defeat would end my wonderful visits to Brighton racecourse. I hope to be back, just don’t tell the wife, who after our eight hour return journey the following day, has absolutely no plans to return!

Approaching The Final Furlong - A Horse Racing Nostalgia Book

Following nearly ten years of writing, the book is here. A story that became a blog. A blog that is now a book. This is the front cover design for Approaching The Final Furlong. A forty year journey around the racecourses of Great Britain featuring tales from the track and horse racing nostalgia. A father and son who share a love of horse racing and the son's quest to visit all the racecourses. A special edition book produced as an unusual eightieth birthday gift for the man who inspired these adventures. A story which began at Haydock Park in 1981 and is now approaching the final furlong!