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DAVID CARR |
Weblog: What do you mean the Wi-Fi doesn't work? The life of a Racing Post reporter
Another historic day at Doncaster
Nothing tells you more about somewhere than their view of history, what they think it is important to remember.
In America 1776 means the declaration of independence, a heroic George Washington and the fight for political freedom.
Round here it means a horse race.
Not just any race, mind. The St Leger, the world's oldest classic, run for the first time 235 years ago.
Which means, given the way the sport tends to be, that the first sigh of 'it's not the race it was' probably came 234 years ago.
But it is still a huge event in these parts, big enough to draw a crowd into the press room. Standing room only well before the first and believe me, it has to be something special if it draws a Sunday newspaper racing correspondent north of the Trent. Or even the Thames.
All of them are contractually obliged to mention DeclanMeanwell, who earned the traditional life membership of the racecourse as the first child born in Doncaster on Leger day (though apparently he did not arrive until 8.52am, which begs the question as to how the maternity unit at Doncaster Royal Infirmary managed to go nearly nine hours without a single birth).
Big enough to draw anyone who is anyone in the northern racing world. Bumped into jumps trainer Ferdy Murphy, lusting in the parade ring - no, it's not what you think, he was imagining taking charge of some of the classic contenders. If he had the choice of one to go hurdling he'd have picked Brown Panther - whose eventual second means a jumping career is unlikely for a good while yet.
Big enough foran international incident, with Olivier Peslier 'doing a Freddy Head' (one for older readers who recall the one-time French champion's woes round Epsom) on favourite Sea Moon, who would have been second with a clearer run and might even have won.
Big enough to have two buglers blowing a fanfare in the stands to mark the presentation - though their efforts coincided exactly with John Hunt's entrance into the press room, so that it appeared they were actually hailing the arrival of Radio 5 Live's finest. No more than he deserves, either.
Much 'there but for the grace of god' today in the wake of Garry Cook's departure from Manchester City thanks to an ill-directed e-mail.
Electronic communication is an indispensable part of our job and you are always dicing with death - professional suicide can be just an accidental press of the 'send' button away.
Not happened to me, yet. But very early on in my relationship with the woman whois now my wife, I returned late from an evening meeting and texted her a message which included the message: "I hope you are home in bed."
All fine and good. Except that predictive text turned the word 'home' into 'good'.
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