There has to be a set of circumstances that fall together to make it bearable to go racing nowadays, particularly on weekends, given that we clearly have emerging generations who have considerably less enthusiasm for horse racing than those preceding them.
Aintree looked a good opportunity. There were no themes attached to the programme, the weather forecast was a gloomy one with grey skies and showers forecast throughout the day. All in all it had all the ingredients to offer an enjoyable day for those who still go along for the actual racing.
As things turned out, the fact that the crowd was modest in size made things bearable but evidence was all around of how, in those months when the climate is more friendly, staying at home is the better option.
Finding a speck down by the rails to watch the opener I was joined by a large group of twenty somethings, well groomed lads and girls with their drinks in hand, bottles of what looked like Prosecco, bottles of beer, all very vocal, all with southern sounding brogues. They were referring to the horses they backed by their number as opposed to name. As the runners passed the stands for the first time one of the group was yelling "fall over! fall over! fall over! " - the others seemed to find this amusing.
This is how people develop when brought up on the modern, sanitised comedy, while those of a certain age will recall being able to laugh together with the family at the likes of On The Buses, The Two Ronnies, Rising Damp, and many more in that mould. Timeless, still funny, and you have to be pretty retarded not to be able to chuckle at such classic comedy. In fact, good advice would be to make a point of not associating with such dreary characters who cannot find amusement in these shows.
The only pleasing moment was when a gust picked up and a heavy shower broke out during the late stages of the races. But they hadn't had enough and were back out for the second race, shouting encouragement to number this and number that. I hardly heard a horses name mentioned never mind the name of a trainer or rider.
The racing industry are reaping what they've sown. These characters will not betting on the horses away from the course thus are not contributing to the pot that racing desperately needs to survive. Media rights are are interwoven with the public betting on horses so it's ridiculous to think that racing's share of the betting pie can continue to decrease without threatening the value of pictures from the tracks.
Admittedly some venues make their largest chunk from party type crowds, particularly in the summer months. But at the end of the day these 'racegoers' feel no attachment to the sport and are fodder to be drawn away to the next in vogue rival attraction. They are merely sticky plaster papering over the cracks.
Another way of losing decent attendees is the fact that everthing bar exchanges with the small number of racecourse bookmakers in attendance was payment by card only, as I discovered when purchasing a coffee and a Fanta. Whether this is a way of using covid as an excuse to make these transactions the only option I've no idea as only an airhead would truly believe that it reduces the spread of infections.
Maybe, it's just an empty, nannying, ' caring' gesture though it would be certain that there would of been one or two elderly people in attendance who went without any form of refreshment for the duration of the meeting. It's measures like this that half make you wish racecourses harm and lack of prosperity.
On popping inside to watch a couple of races from the off meetings there was a group of half shot lads chanting football songs. I've no idea the team they were singing about but they were not local and again had southern accents, sounding as though they came from as far down as south of the midlands at least. The only warming sight was to spot someone with Betfair on his phone watching a race from Donny while glancing at the in running prices. Another racing fan! They are a rarity.
It crossed my mind that none of those downing the booze can have been racing fans. There was a certain Breeders Cup to look forward to in the evening and those beginning their sessions at noon clearly had no intention of watching the action from Del Mar, though truth be told most were probably unaware of its existence.
Two further examples of the glaring lack of enthusiasm for things racing are that all those who bothered to view the animals in the paddock seemed over forty at the very least. And as I always wander down to the final flight of hurdles to watch a race or two, I came across only one other person who was passionate enough over proceedings to do the same.
The course hosts Becher Chase day on December 4th. It could be extremely pereshing. It will be gloomy with no proper daylight, hopefully rain and wind too. People will have Christmas on the mind, respiratory viruses will have surged, perhaps Mr 'fall over' will have caught something nasty along with his cohorts. It really does have the appeal of an enjoyable day for genuine racing fans.
image taken by author
No cover versions can beat the original of this sung by a class act whose own cover versions surpass the originals. Too classy to have been released in the 1990's thus to join in with the modern spirit of rewriting the past, let's say it was released the week that Rag Trade won the original Grand National which is no more.
No comments:
Post a Comment