Tag Archive for: Fakenham

Roving Report: It’s beginning to look a lot like Fakers

December’s a quiet time, isn’t it? Not a lot going on, not much to do, writes David Massey. Not from a racing point of view, anyway. The days are short, which means earlier start times, which means getting up at the crack of dawn to get there, which means an early night the evening before, and usually abstaining from the bottles and bottles of Christmas booze you’ve bought for the festive period. Unless you want to work on the pitch with a sore head all day. And I don’t. 

I’ll be doing Kempton Silver Ring next week. It’ll be the first time I’ve ever worked a pitch on King George Day, so that’ll be exciting. What’s less exciting is the 5.45am alarm call to get there in time. I’ll let you know how that goes in my next missive. 

Southwell being as it is at the moment - no public, and there won’t be any for the near future, either - means my services are not always currently required at my local. It’s very quiet there, and for a recent meeting that kicked off around 11.20am, we were actually able to count the people attending (around 50) as we sat upstairs, keeping warm. 

I have, at least, had more time on my hands to go racing and get some notes down. Last week I went to Leicester, to have a look to see how Apple Away was progressing. I don’t mind a trip to Leicester, although for a track that’s only 35 miles from me, it seems to take ages to get there. Once you come off the M1, you’re in a world of pain; Fosse Park retail traffic to start with, then a whole series of traffic lights, bottlenecks and roundabouts before you get to the track. There’s not a lot to look at, either; no rolling Cotswolds to keep you calm, merely a series of Chinese takeaways, tanning salons, and Betfreds. 

The one thing I do miss about Leicester is Reg’s Beef Rolls. An absolute must in the winter months, lovely tender beef mopped up in gravy in a massive bap, all for the bargain price of a fiver. There was always a queue. 

That aside, Leicester is a perfectly nice day out. Apple Away was very good, and looks to be improving. Come the end of the day I had a little chat with Jonjo O’Neill about his in the last. Talking to Jonjo always brings a smile to your face. He gives nothing away. 

“Did you find a reason why he ran so poorly at Newbury, Jonjo?”

Jonjo looks at the horse, looks at me, and looks at the horse again. 

“Which one is this?” he says to the lass, pointing at it. I burst out laughing. 

“It’s Regal Blue”, she says. “Nothing came to light.”

“I don’t think he liked Newbury much”, says Jonjo. “Anyway, he’ll win today.” 

I’m just confused and laughing. Forty seconds ago he didn’t know which horse it was! 

He actually ran a good race, finishing third and running much better. I think he’ll win one soon. 

It was also a great pleasure to meet Malcolm Heyhoe and his partner at Leicester, both there for a day out. I’m sure older readers will remember Malcolm’s columns in the Guardian and Weekender, among others; we had a lovely chat and it turns out Malcolm’s a fan of these Geegeez scribblings. I look forward to bumping into them again in the near future.

Next stop was Cheltenham, at the weekend. On Friday I was free, so was able to do some useful paddock notes and enjoy myself, but Saturday I’d already committed to working on the rails. I found myself next to the ever-jovial Pinno, who had clearly been working on the joint I was on on the Friday. There’s always an easy way to tell; Pinno is the most untidy bookie you’ll come across. All of the previous day’s ripped-up tickets and newspaper were still in the hod, now wet from a bit of rain, and you have to clear them out before you can start. One of these days I’ll charge him for cleaning services. He always calls me “Davey Boy”; “what do you like here, Davey Boy?”, “can we get this jolly beat, Davey Boy?”, “not a lot of business about, Davey Boy”, that sort of thing. I like working next to him, he’s always good fun. 

Saturday was not busy. I was taking in the region of 600-700 a race on the rail, steady but nothing outstanding, The biggest bet I took all day was a 1000-200 Nurse Susan in the last, which won, and that sort of tells you how the whole day went. Over the 14 races on the Friday and Saturday, there were eight winning favourites and the biggest priced winner was 9-1 (Madara, I even managed to take a 900-100 that as well), and not many books were smiling as they headed to the car parks at four o’clock.  

And finally, lovely Fakenham on Tuesday. Sadly for me, my lift bailed after he’d seen the weather forecast of rain all day, so I had to drive myself on the 250-mile round trip. It’s a good job I actually like driving! 

I always keep Google Maps on to update me of any potential issues and one cropped up on the A17 near Sleaford. A lorry had come off the road and gone over into an embankment; it was lucky there was a large hedge there or he’d have gone fully over. I just about managed to creep by the accident, only to hear on the radio ten minutes later the road had been closed. That would have been game over as far as getting to Fakenham went. I often see accidents like that while on my travels and am always grateful not to be in them. 

Around 9.40 I was getting peckish and fancied a bacon sandwich, so was pleased to spy a “Hot Food Next Layby” sign near Sleaford. However, on pulling up the guy had already packed up and was preparing to tow his wares away! Either he’d had a jackpot morning or people don’t eat bacon sandwiches on the road after half nine anymore, it seems. A couple of miles down the road was “Michelles” in another layby, and she did provide an excellent bacon roll. All’s well that ends well, and I’m back on the road with a decent cup of tea to boot. 

At Fakenham, I’m working with the lovely Julie for the S&D firm and we have a fun afternoon, despite the rain. Plenty of locals have turned up and although it’s mainly small money, it’s busy enough, and the firm wins nicely on the day. Just as well, as my petrol expenses, having driven myself, are on the high side. Plus the bacon roll. The rest of the firm are off to the local Wetherspoons for their dinner, whereas I have the three-hour drive home.

The sky is a beautiful red and, as it starts to turn dark to the west and the light disappears, the colours begin to clash and I manage to get a picture as the last of the daylight goes.

I haven’t got an arty bone in my body, but I do like the snap I managed to take. I hope you do too.

On that note, I’d like to wish all Geegeez readers a merry (and profitable) Christmas and a Happy New Year!

See you all in 2024! 

- Dave M

Roving Reports: Pointless

“The road to the Superbowl is long, and pointless.”

The Simpsons fans among you will recognize this line from the said Superbowl episode where various misdemeanors happen, including Homer having fake tickets (which appear to be printed on crackers), then getting locked up in Superbowl jail, getting busted out by Dolly Parton (no pun intended) and finally ending up in the winning team’s locker room, writes David Massey.

There’s been no winning team at Fakenham on my last two visits over the past few weeks, I can tell you, but the road there has indeed seemed both long, and as it turned out, pointless.

Let me start by saying I’m certainly not knocking Fakenham at all, a track I’ve extolled the virtues of on many an occasion, but circumstances have made things difficult this autumn. (It isn’t winter until December, whatever the weather feels like.)

Fakenham’s first meeting took place at the very beginning of November and, filled with the joys that lay ahead, was picked up at 9.30am from Bingham, midway between Nottingham and Grantham, for my lift to the track. The same old routine ensued on the way there; a McDs’breakfast at Long Sutton, plenty of football and racing chat with driver Daren, and of course the Radio 2 10.30 music quiz. Not Popmaster any more though, not since Ken Bruce moved to pastures new, but the lesser imitation Ten To The Top. Daren used to get a six-point start on Popmaster; not any more he doesn’t, with the new quiz far more random given the incremental scoring system.

So far so good then. All very familiar and all’s well as we reach the track in plenty of time. The weather forecast doesn’t look as good as it did earlier, with some hefty showers now forecast around racetime. We’ll deal with it as we have to if it comes.

In the meantime, a visit to the home-made cake stall is obligatory; two slices of lemon drizzle (one for the wife, before you accuse me of having them both) and a tremendous sausage roll to go with my lunch. This is what courses are missing.

I’m with the S&D firm, called in to work the rails at the last minute as business is expected to be good for the first fixture of the year. We get betting an hour beforehand and as ever, it’s slow to begin with. Then, a spaceship appears overhead.

Well, it feels a bit like that scene in Independence Day when the aliens arrive on Earth and it all goes very dark, but it is nothing more than a massive black cloud, which right now, is worse. It envelops the track and everybody dives for their wet weather gear. Sadly, I’m too late. The rain comes in very quickly, the wind whips up and the rain is hitting me horizontally as I try desperately to get the waterproofs on. By the time I do, my trousers underneath are soaked, and this is also a bad time to discover a hole in your left boot. I get back on the joint but it’s pointless; there’s nobody in front of me as everyone has run for cover.

By the way, the bookmaker’s umbrella - the most pointless invention since somebody came up with the idea of those “Baby On Board” car stickers you put in the back window. (Well, I was going to ram you, but now I know you’ve a baby in the back seat... To be fair here, if I see one that says “Show Cats In Transit” it does make me want to give it a little nudge. Just to keep the felines on their toes, you understand.) Utterly useless as protection from the rain when the wind’s up. You’re as well standing there with a sieve on your head.

The rain finally abates just before the first race but it’s killed the business off. I’ve taken eight bets for the grand sum of 90 quid. As the race jumps off we try and get dried off, but at halfway a horse slips up on the bend and brings another one down. We all look at one another. This could be a very short afternoon indeed.

Post-race, it takes a consortium of jockeys and officials about five minutes to decide racing can’t go ahead after walking the track. “Like ice”, is how it’s described by one of the jockeys. Ten minutes later, the bing-bong goes, and it’s all over. Racing is abandoned.

Six hours on the road to bet on one race that the favourite wins, and staff all have to be paid regardless. It isn’t a good afternoon to be a Fakenham on-course bookmaker.

Undaunted by this sorry episode, the call once again came in on Monday of this week to work at the track Tuesday. It’s a Greene King Day at Fakenham, and the Bury St Edmunds-based brewery often give out loads of free tickets for these days, resulting in a good crowd that have a bet. I’m on the firm again.

An earlier start time means a 6.50am alarm call and an 8.30am pick up at Bingham. Traffic is bad though and we set off ten minutes late. Indeed, we’re already debating whether we have time for a McD’s within a few miles of setting off, with a slow-moving tractor not helping the situation; the pick for pitches is 11.10am, and Google Maps is currently forecasting our arrival at 10.50am. That doesn’t leave you a lot of wriggle room if you get caught behind an articulated lorry or farm vehicle, which is almost always 1.01 in the run in north Norfolk.

However, man must eat, and so a swift drive-thru is required. You can imagine our joy when the car in front of us gets his food, yet doesn’t drive off; instead a woman darts out the passenger side to use the facilities inside, but rather than park up, the car does not move from the food window. I’m just about to get out and politely enquire if he wouldn’t mind kindly sodding off as we’re in a rush, when he finally moves off. 10.56 sez Google Maps. Squeaky bum time.

Delighted to say that for the rest of the journey we encounter little traffic and get there at 10.47 thanks to Daren’s judicious decision making at roundabouts. Amazing how much time you can make up by knowing which lane you should be in.

I’m with S&D again, on the rails, working Pitch 3 which is the least attractive of the four (end picks 1 and 4 best, then 2, then mine) and whilst the weather is at least dry, if cold, there don’t appear to be many people about….

I will not bore you with the details of the afternoon. All you need to know is this - seven races, over which I took less than seventy bets, and bar a £200 wager on Pretending in the fifth, the biggest bet I took all day was forty quid. It felt like a very long afternoon and reports of a big crowd had been greatly exaggerated. Worse still, the cake stall was absent.

The next fixture at Fakenham is their Christmas one, on the 19th. I think I might wear my Christmas jumper - the one that says “BAH HUMBUG” across the front - for that one…

- DM