Tag Archive for: Ebor

A York Roving Report

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Ah, York, and more particularly Ebor week, writes David Massey. It’s well known I’m more a jumps man than the Flat but it’s a week that even I look forward to. Royal Ascot, with its regimented fun, and Glorious Goodwood, a more relaxing week but still a day too long, have their charms but Ebor week has that right balance of quality racing (just the Super Seven every day, no need for eight races and no requirement to be finishing at a stupid time - this is the North after all, teatime is half five), tremendous atmosphere, great nightlife (if that’s your thing) and the whole thing doesn’t require you to sell a kidney to pay for it all. 

As ever these days, I’m working alongside Vicki for the week, the pair of us delivering our Trackside paddock reporting service, but I’ve plenty of tipping pieces that need writing up as well. Thankfully, the weather is set fair as there’s nothing worse than a changeable or uncertain forecast when you’re trying to get ahead of the game. “Well, we might get 5mm of rain, but we might get 30 if we’re unlucky.” At that point there’s nothing you can do except wait. So my week actually starts Monday morning once we get the Wednesday declarations through.

I’ve decided to stay in York all week. It’s right on the periphery of how far I’m willing to travel there and back in a day, but with two sets of roadworks on the A1 (still) adding 20 minutes to the journey both ways, it’s a case of finding a decent Airbnb, which I do, no more than ten minutes from the track. 

The Placepot isn’t a bet I have much time for, if I’m honest; too many five-out-of-sixes, too many out-first-legs, I find it utterly frustrating, but I do partake during this particular week, mainly as my good friend James is at the track every day, and he loves it. As such, I just throw a score away each afternoon in his direction. We’ll forward ahead at this point to say we didn’t get any of the placepots up; a short-head away from landing it on one occasion, and a five-out-of-six where we doubled up on two legs on another. I repeat, I do not like the Placepot much, and it doesn’t like me back. 

I’m currently dieting (1st 3lb so far, although by the end of the week, perhaps unsurprisingly 4lb will have gone back on) so it’s Shredded Wheat for breakfast and salad at lunch, but I eat like a king each night whilst I’m away, it has to be said. Wednesday night I’m out with James, having steaks. The food is superb and better still, my half of the bill has been taken care of by a friend of James who backed a winner I’d put up (I do that occasionally, you know) so it’s a free night. James enjoys a glass of wine or three, but as a marathon runner in training for his next, he assures me he’ll still be up for a jog at eight o’clock the next morning. I tell him I’d like a photo as proof of this, as I think he’s about a million to one to make it as we go our separate ways at the end of the night. Reader, no photo was forthcoming. I see him later on Thursday to pay for the next losing Placepot we’ll have. “It just wasn’t going to happen”, he admits. 

Ombudsman bounces back to form to take the International, but not before Birr Castle scares the living daylights out of us all. Hasn’t it been a strange Flat season, this? Talented handicappers winning Group 1 sprints, pacemakers causing mayhem, 2yo form all seemingly up in the air? Makes you long for a 0-100 at Warwick (please re-read the opening paragraph if you think I’ve lost my mind.) 

Thursday is very much a day for the favourite-backers, with five of the seven going in and bookmakers looking like the stretchers will be required to carry them out. My step count for the day is through the roof - just shy of 12,000 - which means, in calorie terms, I can “afford” a pudding tonight. And what a night it is too, with 16 of us booked into Delrio’s Italian restaurant in the city. There are three tables in the room we’re booked into; on the table to my right is Kia Joorabchian, along with a few owners, trainers and jockeys; to my left Charlie Swan, Ruby Walsh and many of the Irish lads. Quite surreal, let me tell you. I do my quiz that I’d prepared for everyone and that goes down well, too. Plans are already afoot for another one. Next morning, I do my round on “racecourse geography” with Richard Hoiles and Stuart Machin and I really wish it had been recorded as it would have been social media gold. To see two of our finest commentators scratching their heads as I read out a series of roads and ask them which racecourse they would end up at was a joy to watch. I was surprised how tricky they found some of them, given their vast knowledge, and a 7 out of 10 for Richard earned him a “see me” on his report card. Must do better next time…

Friday kicks off in the best possible fashion with Asgard’s Captain, who I was very strong on, and better still, was one of the paddock picks too. I pressed up again and gave him a roar as he came to claim the prize. Our new customers would have been delighted. Even more so when we find Lifeplan, Cape Flora and Frescobaldi as the afternoon progresses and it really is something of a red letter day for Trackside.

There are days as both an analyst and a paddock watcher when you can’t find your own arse with both hands and you can have a crisis of confidence in this game more times than is good for you, believe me; but on days like today, when everything just flows, and the winners jump out at you, it’s the greatest game in the world. Find me a better one and I’ll switch. But until then, this will always be king. 

Friday night and we’re eating at eight o’clock. At a place called Ate O’Clock. You can imagine the anger earlier as I tried to get the relevant information out of the idiot that booked it. “What time are we eating?” “And where are we eating?” “No, you’ve already told me when, where?” “STOP TELLING ME WHAT TIME WE’RE EATING” and so on. He did it on purpose, obviously, as he knew full well he’d get a rise out of me, and he did. 

The sooner he gets his HWPA Lifetime Achievement award and leaves the press room, the better. I won’t give him the satisfaction of naming him, he’ll only think he’s even cleverer. Anyway, Ate O’Clock (at 8.15, it turns out, ha!) do good food and I get to chat to some new people, which is always great. We end up going round a few pubs and bars and meet up with one of the Sporting Life lads, who tells me an utterly unrepeatable story from Delrio’s the night before. I’d have been better not knowing, I think. It’s 1.30am before I crawl back into bed, and whilst by no means pi$$ed, I know I’m going to suffer a little in the morning. Indeed, the Shredded Wheat next morning isn’t cutting it, and I weaken enough to have a bacon sandwich, a sure sign I probably had plenty the night before. God, I’d forgotten how good bacon is. 

And so… we reach Saturday. Most of the work for the week is done and, bored, six of us in the press room have a round of Greyhound Roulette. I’ve explained the rules before, but essentially a dice decides your trap number for the first ten races on the card that morning, 3pts for a winner, 1pt for second. (Yes, it’s a game for degenerates. Don’t judge.) Anyway, all you need to know is we throw a tenner in each, winner takes all, and the winner was… me! A nifty in front before lunch. Could be a good day, this. 

We’ve already had one visit from the Queen this week and today we’re getting another. I come barrelling out of the press room around lunchtime, head down, not really looking where I’m going, to be grabbed by a member of security as I walk into what appears to be a vacated area. “Sorry sir, sterile area.” I’ve never been so insulted. I’m on the verge of telling him I have two happy and healthy children when I twig he means Her Maj is on the way through. But what’s really strange is, once she’s gone past, I’m able to walk, quite literally, five paces behind her with nobody seemingly stopping me. I’ve never been part of a Royal Entourage before and although I’m not supposed to be part of this one, it’s yet another quite surreal event in a week of them. 

It proves tougher to find a winner today, although the good news is that James has gone home, so I immediately feel I’m twenty quid better off, and I do locate both Never So Brave (another Group 1 winner that was in handicaps not so long ago) and Revival Power on the card. We at Trackside are big Revival Power fans; she’s going to be some horse at three. Mark this, and come back to it. (Only if we’re right though, obviously.) 

Death, taxes and the Irish winning the Ebor. Seemingly, three certainties in life. Actually, add a fourth. Roadworks on the A1. They might be gone by this time next year. Then again, probably not. See you at Doncaster, and then at Newmarket. AND THEN, AT CHEPSTOW!! Hurrah! 

- DM

Majestic Warrior aiming to realise long-term Ebor plan

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James Tate is hoping a long-term plan comes to fruition with Majestic Warrior in the Sky Bet Ebor at York on Saturday.

Successful in two of his first three races in 2023, the Churchill five-year-old then defied an absence of almost two years when bolting up at Thirsk in April.

Having seen his rating shoot up from 89 to 98, Tate has resisted the temptation to run since, instead electing to keep his powder dry for Europe’s richest Flat handicap.

“We’ve preserved his mark of 98, which we thought would get him in the race and give him the best chance I suppose,” said the Newmarket handler.

“The only concern is he doesn’t have as much experience as many of them in the field, but he’s in very good form, he’s a good horse and we’re looking forward to running him.

“We decided not to run him again after Thirsk and we’ll see if it’s a good plan halfway through Saturday afternoon.

“If he’d gone and won another small handicap he’d have been near enough top-weight, alternatively if we’d gone for a Listed race they’re probably worth £40,000 added most of those and this is £500,000 added, so we’ll give it a whirl and if it doesn’t work we can go somewhere else after.”

When asked whether he felt his charge was well handicapped, Tate added: “We hope so, but you don’t know do you? He’s a horse we’ve always liked, a mile and six (furlongs) will be his ideal trip, I would have thought, and I think he’d go on anything from good to soft to good to firm.”

Adrian Keatley in confident mood ahead of Kihavah outing

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Last year’s runner-up Kihavah is “better than ever” as he aims to go one better in next week’s Sky Bet Ebor at York.

Adrian Keatley’s dual-purpose performer has been in great form recently, winning the Queen’s Cup on the Flat at Musselburgh before finishing second in the Summer Hurdle at Market Rasen.

Last year he beat all bar Henry de Bromhead’s Magical Zoe having had just two behind him with three furlongs to run and despite racing off 9lb higher, Keatley can see no reason why he should not run well again.

“He’s better than ever it seems. He lumped around top weight in the Summer Hurdle, 10lb more than he had the previous year and he was a little unfortunate to get beat as we probably just kicked 200 yards too soon,” said Keatley.

“I think he was giving the winner 17lb and it just told late on.

“He likes York which stands for a lot, it just depends what runs on the day but we’ll be hoping for a very good run.

“He was second last year in it, he was unfortunate not to win on his last run on the Flat as PJ (McDonald) got locked away on the winner and there was nothing he could have done.

“We’ll ride him for luck and hopefully he can win off the mark he’s on.”

Monday Musings: Ebor Wrap (and a word on a late friend)

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The fashion had been highly acceptable for the first three days of York’s Ebor Festival, but I hadn’t been prepared for what was to confront me on Saturday, writes Tony Stafford. I arrived early as usual, and it was only when I ventured from the box after an early cup of coffee, that ranged before me was a sea of colour.

Looking closer, the wearers of those extravagant dresses were rarely past mid-teens, some even as young as eight or nine. It was Travellers’ rather than Ebor day, and by no means for the first time, but I had generally gone home before the final day of the meeting, so it was totally unexpected for me.

But regulars were fully aware of the make-up of the day and watching more closely, you could also discern the young men, again many in early teens. Both sexes were immaculately turned out, suits and ties for the boys, fulfilling the old-time posh enclosure style requirements (largely relaxed nowadays) and the girls, beautifully coiffed and their dresses looking fit for a catwalk at Paris Fashion week.

As I made my way out of the stand aiming at the paddock, those 70 yards were a minefield – no hint of trouble, just difficult to navigate through the throng which swayed back and forth all day.

I learnt that the travellers come from all over the UK for this day, swelling the crowd on Ebor Day on which inevitably Frankie Dettori, now operating without his long-time business manager Peter Burrell, took the riding honours.

He conveniently collected the big race (£300k) on Absurde and the other half-million Group 2 City Of York Stakes on Kinross to end a most astonishing fortnight of achievement.

Referring to the Burrell issue – Pete was the man who set up the book deal when I ghosted Frankie’s Year in the Life book. Frankie said the other day: “That must have been 25 years ago! <27 in fact> and added, “Pete didn’t like that I was retiring – it was as if he was the one retiring.”

You would have thought that the rider/manager bond would have been able to withstand this after 35 years together but apparently not. The way Frankie is riding though, you wonder whether he might go through his enjoyable winter spell in California with Bob Baffert and think, maybe, “just one more year?”  - the punters will love it if he does.

A little admin followed by a catch up: I failed to deliver an article last week – I was almost halfway through an Ebor preview when we were forced to take our 15-year-old lovely little Yorkie Josephina to the emergency vet. She had suffered a sudden seizure and they said there was no alternative but to euthanise her. Here we are, on a happier day not long ago...

Tony Stafford and his beloved pooch, Josephina

Tony Stafford and his beloved pooch, Josephina

 

The week before, I suggested Frankie had probably picked up around £40k for his percentage of the half-million first prize for the Jacques Le Marois at Deauville. He took a few days off after that and from that point, he had ten more rides, mainly at York.

Five wins from the 11, with two second places both in valuable contests and one third place, his total tally of prize money amounts to £1,882,000. His percentage – bearing in mind the place earns a jockey considerably less – will still be the best part of £150k. Nice work.

Before he changed out of his civvies, a smart light-blue suit as befitted the general air of sartorial elegance on the day, Frankie spotted Brian Meehan in the paddock. “What a winner, 16/1, why didn’t you tell me?” “Why would a jockey want to know?”, asked Meehan before Isaac Shelby’s run - he finished a slightly disappointing fourth to Kinross.

Frankie had time for his lightning change into the Kinross livery while I spoke to Sam Sangster about his ever accelerating career as a buyer of yearlings. The 16/1 shot Frankie referred to was Friday’s Newmarket debut scorer Jayarebe, who had tracked and then outpaced 4/11 shot Broadway Act, a Charlie Appleby/ Godolphin colt who had already had a good debut.

Sangster had bought him for €180k at Arqana’s October Yearling sale and the colt was passed on to the returning Iraj Parvizi, owner of Meehan’s 2010 Breeders’ Cup Turf winner Dangerous Midge at Churchill Downs 13 years ago. Parvizi had been out of racing for some time and Meehan’s predictable comment was, “It’s great to have him back.”

Jayarebe could be in line for some big-race action and the decision seems to be the Royal Lodge Stakes over a mile rather than the Dewhurst at seven. That would seem sensible for the son of Zoffany who is a half-brother to a true two-mile mare and decent staying hurdler, Ian Williams’ Malakahna.

Sam Sangster said that the 180k he paid for Jayarebe was comfortably the most he’d ever paid for a yearling; Isaac Shelby cost €92k to his bid two years earlier. The Greenham winner, and runner-up in the French 2,000 Guineas and the Lennox at Goodwood has picked up £340,000 on the track but realised a good few times more than that (Sam remains coy about just how many times) to Wathnan Racing before the French Classic.

He says he has bought 12 Group performers, ten of which have been trained by Meehan – the other two by Nicolas Clement in France. Four of them have been Group 1 performers, although he has yet to supply a Group 1 winner. The average price paid for those smart performers has been a very modest £51,000, given the amazing prices paid at the sales these days. He truly is Robert Sangster’s son.

When I spoke to Brian Meehan on Friday morning, he was very measured in his analysis of Jayarebe. “He’s very, very nice.” On Saturday I tasked him with, “You put me away. You said he was very, very nice. He’s very, very, very nice!”

In performance terms, on debut he beat a field chock-full of potential and almost all with big-race entries this autumn. He put up the fastest time of the day, rare enough for a two-year-old. You could imagine Derby thoughts going through the minds of trainer, owner and talent spotter. It’s early days but if he did win the Royal Lodge, it could be within the realms of possibility.

Deauville’s month of excitement came to a climax with a big win for Paul and Oliver Cole, their Jack Darcy winning the Group 2 Grand Prix de Deauville at 11/1. A winner of his first two races, Jack Darcy’s best run since had been a second place to the smart William Haggas seven-year-old Hamish, who would have been top-weight for Saturday’s Ebor if he had taken up the entry. But 10st9lb (including a penalty) would have been too much, requiring a 9lb higher weight-carrying achievement than Sea Pigeon’s 44 years earlier, in 1979, to win.

It was great last week to see Sea Pigeon’s winning Ebor rider, Jonjo O’Neill, still looking in his prime. He reported his team at Jackdaws Castle is ready to go as the jumps season gathers pace. One jumps trainer, though, whose horses are always primed obviously is Willie Mullins.

When I bumped into him, asking if it was right that he was expected in the same place that had been my base all week, he said: “Sorry no, I’m off to do the day job. Maybe later.” You could say it was day job done after Absurde had won with a peach of a ride from Dettori. Later I saw him leaving the track and said, “You might be okay at the day job, but you aren’t much good at coming up for a drink.” He laughed and said: “Next time.”

- TS