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!
