Roving Reports: Goodwood

So I left you in the Premier Inn at Guildford, just off the A3, having a shower after finishing off at Sandown earlier that night, writes David Massey. I'm cursing the fact we are so far from the track but the room, replete with walk-in shower and a proper desk to work at, is pacifying me somewhat. I sleep like a log, knowing the next three days are going to be busy.

For all it's an hour drive to Goodwood it's a pleasant one, taking in a few picturesque village greens as we wind our way to the track. Working in the Lennox Enclosure as we are for the week, the trick is to park on the side of the road by the four furlong pole, which not only ensures a quick getaway post-racing, but an easy enough spot to wheel the gear back every night.

The Enclosure itself has changed since we were last here. The covered bar, right at the far end by the 2f pole, is no longer a covered bar but an open one. Wait a minute! Where's Squinty McGinty and his band? A regular feature of that bar, Squinty and co would bang out all your old singalong favourites before finishing every night with the same exacta - The Fields Of Athenry underneath, and Delilah on top to round things off. Ah, there he is. They've moved Squinty up a bit, he's now got his own patch in the middle ground. No Squinty, no Goodwood, although as we pass by, I hear the familiar refrains of Sweet Caroline, which he's added to his repertoire since the last time we were here. No-one can accuse Squinty of not giving his audience what they want, that's for sure.

So where to bet, then? It's a strange enclosure to bet in, with the bookmakers in one very long line, and the picnic car park thrown in. My good mate Tony, from his excellent pitch, takes the picnic car park and will tick along nicely in there for the week, but we have a decision to make.

The aforementioned covered bar used to be a great area to bet in front of. Not only because of the band, but the clue is in the name - covered. If it rained, punters would pile in by the dozen, nipping out only to have a bet, and the eight or so books that stood in front of the bar would cop the lot. Is the new open-air bar going to be as popular? We decide not, and bet near the furlong pole, right up the other end of the ring.

It's the Magnolia Cup today, and I've done my homework on the race. Basically, there are three with some sort of chance, as long as their riders are competent, and the rest, to varying extents, are going to struggle. For this race only, I'm in charge of the book, so it's all on my shoulders whether we win or not. One bloke clearly hasn't done his homework and has £50 on one that turns out to be a 41-rated 1m6f horse. This, remember, is over 5 and a half furlongs. Still, it's good for the book...

The race is run and I've got it right. Dark Shot wins and we've won well. I've personally won well too. I'll let you into a little secret here - these charity races, if you're not too greedy, often pay some wacky dividends on the Tote. I made Dark Shot a 7-4 chance to win this, but he's paid 13-2 on the Tote and 5-2 a place! Don't tell everyone though, okay....?

We're betting next to Robert Perry and his wife Jane, for the whole week as it turns out. They're lovely people and a good laugh. As I've said before, if you've good neighbours, it does make the week go a lot smoother. Jane provides the sweets for the first two days and I return the favour on the Saturday with two large bags of Haribo. But back to the Thursday...

There's a loud group of lads behind us that isn't helping my mood, but we get betting on the first. The Thursday is always a quiet day, so we aren't expecting fireworks, and that's just as well because we don't get any. Business is very quiet and the highlight of the afternoon is me turning around to see one of the loud lads throwing his guts up on the grass. Half an hour later, five security men will escort him off the track, shouting as he's carried away.

Three favourites on the bounce in Royal Scotsman, New London and Nashwa ensure it won't be a winning day and just as we get level, the well-backed joint favourite Sparkling Beauty takes the last. Thank goodness for the Magnolia Cup!

Friday sees a game of Musical Bookies as everyone moves position to try and find that elusive spot where you can take plenty of money and bet well. Bookmakers, should they find such a unicorn spot, play their cards very close to their chest when questioned. "How was it yesterday?" is a familiar refrain this morning, and the answer you'll usually get it "it was okay, nothing better than that." No-one's going to tell you if they hit the jackpot for fear of someone elbowing them out of their position. Those that bet in front of the open bar said business was moderate, but then, as was pointed out to me by the ever-shrewd Daren Wentworth, "you don't see any of them moving today, do you?"

Business is immediately better, with the long-distance handicap going to the almost unbacked Master Milliner. Yesterday was all two-fifty each-ways, today it's tenners and twenties with the odd £100 bet thrown in. A German guy, who I will come to know as Roland, starts betting with us, and I get chatting to him. He tells me he loves British racing and comes for all the festivals: Ascot, Goodwood, Cheltenham. He loves his football too, supporting Borussia Dortmund II, who he informs me play in Germany's third division. As a Derby supporter, I can only sympathise with him.

It's a good job Roland has a sense of humour as I massively put my foot in it. We are talking about how the price of racing admission has increased over the past few years and I remark how things seem to be going back to the old days "what with strikes, increasing prices, wars across Europe..." and before I realise what I've said Roland laughs and says "yes, but this time, we didn't start them!" I want the ground to open up, I'm so embarrassed. Thankfully Roland isn't and is roaring with laughter. Mainly at my red face, I think. It doesn't put him off us, thankfully, he bets with us for the next two days and as with all loyal customers, I make sure he's well looked after.

The biggest problem we are having, as we bet, is the phone signal. A lot of the bets we are taking today are card bets, but the signal and wifi is so awful at this end of the track that transactions, which normally take about 20 seconds, can take a minute or more and even then, some are failing to go through. We change to a different signal but it's no better. Do we junk the cards and just take cash, or push on? We persevere with it and thankfully things do get better, but for a big track such as this, you'd think a better signal might be a given.

The results are blindingly good. Orbaan wining the Golden Mile is almost a skinner. Khaadem and Rumstar are equally good and only a £200 bet on Caius Chorister in the last takes the shine off things.

Squinty throws a curveball by ending, not with Delilah, but Sweet Caroline, and the 1.01 money buyers have even done it in leaving the track. It's not been a good day for favourite backers, that's for sure.

Saturday and the sun is out. So are the punters, and business ramps up another notch. Although I would say, the money is smaller. This is a bit more of a family day, and there are queues to get on. I have my only cash bet of the week on The Foxes each-way in the first, as the 15-2 next door looks too big, and am delighted when it pounces on the odds-on Classic late. That pays for the Haribo.

I nearly cop the lot when Dark Shot is only narrowly beaten in the Consolation Stewards, and the lady who asked me for a tip beforehand ("you bookies always know what's going to win, don't you?" - I informed her that if I did, I wouldn't be standing here getting me arms burnt trying to earn a few quid, I'd be out there backing it) is delighted when she picks up just over £60 having backed it each-way after my advice. Unlike previous similar encounters, there is no marriage proposal at this point, but I do get a kiss. I love my job at times.

Trawlerman ought to be called Trollerman, as I've fancied it strongly the last two runs and given up on it today. The public haven't though, and a £100ew bet on him is a bit of a kicking. Sea La Rosa isn't much better in the Lillie Langtry, a huge roar going up around me as she hits the front in the latter stages, and the payout queue is a long one.

Two doors down from us, the bookmaker's light board has packed up, and that means that Jane next door, and myself, are suddenly a lot busier as we pick their business up. There's never a good time for the equipment to fail, but right before the Stewards Cup, the best betting race all week, is a proper kick in the teeth. It doesn't work properly again all afternoon and that's basically game over for them.

Commanche Falls is popular enough with the small money brigade, plenty of fivers and tenners, but it is a winning race. I feel for one bloke though - he had five £5 ew bets on the race and backed the first four out of them. I ask if he had the forecast or the tricast as an aside, and sadly he didn't. Good darts, sir, but that's an opportunity missed.

I'm A Gambler is a bad result. You may ask why an 18 chance would be no good, but the reasoning is simple - it was Number 1 on the racecard and therefore at the top of the light board. Punters just making a lucky pick often look towards the top of the board rather than the bottom. That's human nature, isn't it? You work from top to bottom. So those at the top take much more money than those at the bottom with the pinstickers.

We can't get them off Ajero in the last, and punters go home on a winning favourite. Which is how it should be. Squinty gives Delilah one last outing, and we pack the gear away. The early finish means I'll be back in Nottingham for nine. Now that, my friends, is the best result of the day. On to the Ebor...

- DM

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