Categories: uncategorized
Date: 16 January 2007 19:19:46
Yesterday, dad and I went back to Plumpton. We usually put on a couple of bets each, but neither of us have ever won anything.
Third race of the day. No. 2's not the favorite but she certainly has a chance, and anyway this is the Mares Only race and for some reason I like the Mares Only race. Alright, then-tenner to win. She was in fourth right from the start, and round they went, and round they went, and she's not gaining-and there's another horse a good few lengths out in front of the bunch.
We get onto the home straight. Suddenly, she's gaining, and gaining, and gaining. She's neck-to-neck with the leading horse. The atmosphere is amazing-people are screaming, yelling, jumping up and down. They cross the finish line together and a voice comes through the tannoy over the yelling. "Photograph, photograph." There's a few incredulous minutes of everyone looking around, not at all sure what's going to happen. It's impossible to tell.
"The winner of the 2.30 is..." He pauses. God, this commentator knows how to create dramatic tension. The entire grandstand was silent. Nobody moved. I don't think anybody actually breathed. "Number Two, High Life!"
I didn't win much money-I'd only bet a tenner, after all, and the odds weren't that good. I walked away about twenty quid up. But I can see how this is addictive. God, the adrenalin! And the atmosphere! The tension and the excitement! [grin] It's all good fun, and I hope we keep on going back-although it does seem a little odd that I've developed a passion for horseracing, but y'know.