DAVID CARR

Weblog: What do you mean the Wi-Fi doesn't work? The life of a Racing Post reporter

Coming through rather too loud and clear

Lovely guy Lee McKenzie. Good commentator too and apparently a star sports presenter on BBC in the south. I just wish he would shut up.

Everything was going swimmingly as we filmed previews for Racing Post TV, rattling through the Ryanair Chase and Pertemps Final and working through our best bets in the other races. William Hill PR man David Hood was about to hold forth when Lee burst into life on the public address. Deafeningly.

Going reports. Non runner news. Plugs for the young girls doing Irish dancing in the parade ring to celebrate St Patrick's Day. And tantalising us with occasional pauses. So that David would clear his throat and start attacking the Jewson. Only for the PA to spring back into action with more vital announcements.

A three-minute piece eventually took some 15 minutes to get 'in the can' (my brother works in TV so I know some of the lingo). Watch the outcome on RPTV elsewhere on this website and see if you can detect any hint of exasperation in his face as he finally gets to tell you about the good thing for tomorrow.

We were filming on the balcony outside Brough Scott's hospitality box, a venue which disproved yesterday's claim - there IS a better place to watch the racing from than the press room. On the fourth floor for a more aerial view. Opposite the winning-post. And with a succession of charming young girls visiting and bringing drinks.

There had been shock news on arrival in our premises - the Wi-Fi had broken down overnight. Rather like an artist turning up at the studio and finding there is no paint, or a composer discovering his piano is out of tune (not saying we are Botticellis or Mozarts but I hope you get the point).

But Cheltenham know better than to let down a room of angry journalists and the problem was fixed before anyone was here to notice - there was something up with the 'nat translation'. Apparently.

Wasn't much obvious angriness about in here today, though there was a brief difference of opinion while 'Cheltenham/Downtown' blared out on close-circuit TV -a Channel 4 layman's music appreciation was rather trumped by the opera studies diploma held by one tabloid journalist.

Good to see an NHS appeal to give blood broadcast on the screens before racing. Though it is interesting that it is football fans who are currently being targeted by a campaign to attract sperm donors. Perhaps they thought that too few racegoers fit into the required 18-44 age bracket. Or we lack potency.

Wonder if they would be interested in a McCain donation? There must be something worth harvesting in those genes - three festival winners in your first four seasons is some going by the son of Mr Red Rum. And quite a relief for him too after forking out big money for Peddlers Cross and then nominating him as his horse to follow in every publication bar the phone book last autumn.

I almost bumped into former Tory leader Michael Howard in the parade ring after that race and the course was also graced by a visit from retired Flat jockey Dale Gibson on Professional Jockeys' Association affairs. Apparently his licence officially runs out tonight so he could have his first bet for 24 years tomorrow. I refrained from passing on my long-priced fancy for the Byrne Group Plate- he had just bumped into his former boss Mick Easterby and needs no betting advice from me.

By the way, I should say that staying away from home for Cheltenham is different to staying away elsewhere. For Southwell we'd stay somewhere basic and economical. Here we stay somewhere basic and expensive, which is the only option this week - hoteliers know a seller's market when they see one. I am in Evesham at a place which is also home to the guys from theGuardian and the Mirror. A left-leaning enclave in the tweedy south-west.

It is perfectly adequate on the score of food and drink. On the subject of which, the press room offering today was steak and kidney pie, which was hailed 'very good' by my colleague Mr Mottershead, though one slightly miffed all-weather regular said: "I have had pie all winter at Wolverhampton and now I come here - and it is the same."