Carry On De Campaeo

I was saddened to read in the Racing Post yesterday, that one of my favourite horses has had his racing career cut short due to an injury. Sadly Gloria de Campeao has suffered a tendon injury and will race no more. This sad day though, brings back much happier memories of the horse and a nice couple of touches.

It was back in January earlier this year when I first came across this brave old warrior. The wife and I were going to a fancy restaraunt in West Byfleet, booked up by some friends who are well in with the owners at Trevi's.

The main attraction on that particular night was that celebrity chef and I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here, winner Gino D'Acampo was the guest chef and was putting in an appearance. All the women were falling over themselves to be there and I even had to bring the Number 1 Gino groupie, my mother-in-law.

It was a Thursday night and clashed with the grand opening of the new ultra modern, state of the art Meydan racetrack in Dubai. I wasn't planning a bet, as I knew I'd be in the restaurant with all the women agog with jungle camp winner Gino and wouldn't get to see it.

But this all changed though when a colleague from work rang me up and that he knew someone, who knew someone, who knew someone, who knew connections of English raider Without A Prayer, who was due to run in the main event. It was well fancied and was worth a bet.

I dived into the bookies, on the way home to place a bet and as I looked up the form, something strange came over me. Catching my eye on the very next line to my supposed bet was;

GLORIA DE CAMPEAO; Jockey TJ Perreira.

I can't say I'd paid much attention to this horse before, but I certainly was now.

De Campeao sounds awfully like D'Acampo and Perreira was some sort of relations name, as my mum being a Rosario, I'd heard this name mentioned before in our ancient past's Portuguese links.

Now faced with a dilemma that does a punter's head in, is, do I go with the supposed inside info or the coincidence bet. After a few minutes thinking about it, I steamed into the coincidence bet, what's the chances of seeing a horse called De Campeao on the night I'm meeting D'Acampo, not the same spelling, but say it quickly. I thieved 14-1 and went on my way. I even sent a text to my Without A Prayer tipper to tell him, get on De Campeao.

At home, I was getting the verbal from the women, we're late, where have you been, got to meet Gino....blah, blah,blah. I stalled getting ready for as long as I could, knowing the race was due off soon. The stalling worked, long enough to get to watch the race, the wife and mother-in-law getting more irate.

The race blasted off and Gloria de Campeao took up a fairly prominent position being rousted along quite vigourosly by jockey Perreira. Always up with the pace and still in about third turning for home, to my eye he looked beat as the leaders quickened, but somehow he switched inside and rallied.

Close home he hit the front and in the end won quite well. I was over the moon, I only won £195, but for some reason it felt like a lot more, maybe because of the coincidence factor. I couldn't stop laughing all the way to West Byfleet.

At the restaurant we had a good laugh with good company and a nice meal. The mother in law was like a giggly sixteen year old all around Gino, even the Mrs was getting a bit flighty! But me I couldn't stop laughing. Our friends Mike & Elaine, loved the story, but thought I was too spooky for words.

Gino was brilliant and came and spent time at our table, posing for photos and chatting. I even showed him my betting slip for a laugh.

"Why you notta tella me?" He enquired in his broad Italian accent.

"Might just about cover the dinner tonight," was my response.

After a great evening It came to the bill and for the wife, mother-in-law and myself food & drinks was paid for by the brave Gloria De Campeao.

Coincidence, fate, luck I don't know, but all I know is sometime later we were invited to dinner at Mike and Elaine's house.

Just my luck, this night clashed with the running of the world's richest ever race, The Dubai World Cup, again at Meydan. Now this time I knew Gloria De Campeao was running and lumped on at 16-1. Again stalling tactics were employed so I could watch the race before we headed off to Mike & Elaine's, who I hadn't seen since the night at Trevi's, two months earlier.

Again the wife was onto me, we're late, how long's it going to take to watch the race....blah,blah,blah.

Eventually the race was on, the horses blasted out of the stalls, Gloria de Campeao pings out and takes up the early running. After a while he still leads, after another couple of furlongs he's still leading. Turning for home he kicks on again, still in the lead. Close home he's still in the lead, now though South African horse Lizard's Desire is weaving through the field and finishing like a train.

Yards from the line, Gloria De Campeao is still in front with the South African flying, they flash past the post together in a desperate finish. To my eye the Lizard has won by a tongue!

Now the next five minutes were agonising. This time I had quite a sizeable bet on, the horse owed me nothing, in fact I owed him a meal.

The longest wait for a photo finish to be called that I can remember, the wife nagging, we've got to leave, left me even more twitchy. It seemed to take for ever, I was sure the horse was beaten, but at least I knew I'd landed the place money. This though, was smallfry compared to the real riches that awaited if we'd won. It's funny how your horse you've backed and you become a team, we as a team waited.

Then suddenly Channel 4 cut their coverage before announcing the result. Thank God for atthteraces. I switched channels, still no result. I waited & waited, wife waited & waited, still no result. Eventually the news broke, Gloria De Campeao had won by a nose! The feeling I had was utter elation, the brave Gloria de Campeao had led all the way and held on by the narrowest of margins.

Some of the so-called experts poo-pooed the form saying it was a travesty that this horse, who wasn't in the same league as previous winners had nicked the world's richest race. To me though this horse was one of the bravest I had ever seen.

I couldn't stop laughing all the way to Mike & Elaine's house. They now know I am definitely spooky!

Trying to explain the above, I can't. Luck, fate or coincidence I don't know, but all I can say is, as soon as I read about poor old Gloria's(we even nickname our favourite's as if we know them)sad injury, it brought back all of the happy memories flooding back. Without him, I would not have the above laughs.

I'm still laughing now.

A long and happy retirement, Gloria.

Yours

Randy.

CHOISIR, SIR BOB & PLANT POTS.

With the World Cup 2010 now underway and with Royal Ascot on the horizon, I feel now is the right time to tell the following story about a day out at the Royal meeting a few years back. The memories still make me smile and I feel like sharing it so others hopefully may enjoy it too.

It was back in 2003, when the Cannons Gym I was a member at organised a day out on the opening day of the Royal Ascot meeting. The deal was meet up at the club for a bucks fizz breakie, coach trip to Ascot, ticket included, party in the the coach park, more food & drink and a coach ride home, now who could ask for more for £100?

The wife was angling for a ticket, but I'd already made other arrangements.

I didn't really know many people at the gym so thought it would be a good way of getting to know some of the other members.

I went down one day to book the tickets and the girl behind the desk took my money and that of my guest.

"You're going to enjoy yourself, plenty of champagne and fit single women" I was told.

"I'm not into that sort of thing." I told her, meaning I was a happily married, father of two.

"Who are you bringing?"I was asked.

"My friend Corey." I told her.

"Corey & Randy?" she questioned me, giggled and gave her mate a knowing glance.

As I walked away, I thought to myself, they think I'm bloody gay! But to be fair to them, Corey & Randy, not the butchest of names!

Corey was a workmate, over from Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia on a working holiday and seemed pretty stoked(as they say in Oz) to be my guest. He had been a young Joey Socceroo, which is an Australian equivalent of an England Youth team footballer. He even played in the same team as a few of the Aussie boys who made it in the Premiership, including ex-Liverpool player Harry Kewell.
The big day arrived and we met up at the club, champagne breakfast, intros and team photo out of the way we boarded the coach.

On the coach, looking through the card, Corey noticed CHOISIR, Trainer Paul Perry, Australia. A horse running in The King's Stand, from his bloody hometown, how bizarre was that. we told anyone who would listen on the coach, we had inside info due to Corey being from Oz and Choisir was fancied.

Once at the track we were left to our own devices and went off to have a mingle in the crowds and have a drink. We went down to the paddock to have a look at the field for The King's Stand and check out Choisir. What we saw was amazing, the horse was a huge specimen, a real bruiser and he looked head and shoulders above the rest. But I had a doubt. Choisir had a lot of weight to carry and had come from the other side of the planet. I really fancied Oasis Dream, who I thought was the class horse.

Anyway the race went off and Johnny Murtagh cut across to the rail and booted Choisir into the lead, soon clear I said to Corey, he's won this! Powering along he just kept going and was still clear approaching the last. The rest of the field could not land a blow, Choisir stayed on strongly and won as he liked. Oasis Dream only third. I could not believe what I had just witnessed. All the signs were there, the coincidences, the fact he was the daddy in the paddock and I still never backed it! What a wally. Corey on the other hand was ecstatic, not only had he backed, it had won at 25-1, he was delighted. Whilst I was chuffed for him, I was also gutted, I had looked this gift horse straight in the mouth, took a photo of it and still believed it was to good to be true. My angry feeling was further fuelled when I noticed Choisir paid 37-1 on the tote. Nice one.

The day carried on like that, I never backed a winner, Corey nailed another one and was well up for the day.

We were having a drink and reflecting on the day, when I noticed a fella staring at us menacingly. He came over with the right hump and told Corey that his girlfriend could not keep her eyes off him and he was obviously getting agitated. We made a swift exit, but at least Corey's ego had a rub.

After a brief sing-song at The Bandstand we were walking back to the coach when we noticed a bit of a throng, as we neared we could clearly see it was the great Sir Bobby Robson, ex-England Manager, Newcastle( no not the NSW one!) United FC legend and all round good egg signing autographs for a group of young kids.

"Hello Sir Bob, can I grab a photo?" I asked.

"No problem." He said.

Corey jumped in and I got a snap, then handed the camera to a girl to take one of the three of us. But Sir Bob wasn't having any of it.

"You had your photo, cheeky". He said.

"But I wasn't in it, come on Sir Bob." I replied.

"You only asked for A photo!"He told me.

I couldn't believe it, but he was technically right and who was I to argue with the legend that is Sir Bob. I am not sure if he was joking, but didn't press it and we left, with me rueing another missed opurtunity, at least Corey was laughing.

Back at the coach we were hailed as heroes tipping up a 25-1 winner, I didn't let on I never had a bean on it and revelled in the glory instead.

By the time we got back on the coach, I was in a right state, tired and emotional is what they call it.

The coach dropped us of in Sutton and we decided to have a nightcap in the pub by the station before Corey went back up to North London. We said our goodbyes and I decided to walk/stagger home, big mistake. Thats when it went blank.

My next memory was being dropped off at home by someone in a pick-up type 4x4 with the wife giving me verbal.

The gentleman had found me knocked out in his front garden amongst the plant pots. I'd apparently fell over his front garden wall and hit my head on a garden ornament, the racket I made disturbed him and his wife. They went through my mobile phone, found the home number and rang the wife to tell them what had happened and brought me home. I got some homecoming I can tell you, that night. To this day I have never seen, heard or spoken to that gentleman, but all I vaguely remember is his grey hair. all I can say is thanks, he was my guardian angel that night.

Corey called the next day to see if I'd got home okay and thank me for taking him to the races, giving him one of the most enjoyable days he'd ever had. I can still here him laughing after I'd told him about my little adventure.

I was rough for days and was only just getting back to normal, when on the Saturday me, the wife, the kids and I were invited to a close family friend's wedding. It was in deepest, darkest Sussex and miles from anywhere. It was an early start, church do in London and then coach down to the castle for the reception. I was a little peeved I was missing the last day's racing at Ascot and didn't have a bet, as I like to watch the race if I have had a punt. I was enjoying the wedding and spending time with the family and was definitely building bridges after the Ascot day out shenanigans.

Well, I was enjoying the wedding, until my mobile phone beeped and there was a text from Corey.

"GO GO CHOISIR, YA GOOD THING! Were you on?"

No I bloody wasn't! I snuck off and rang him, The Mighty Choisir, the Aussie speedball had only gone and doubled up by winning The Golden Jubilee at 13-2. He'd won again, just four days later, I couldn't believe it. Corey was chuffed and he couldn't believe that I hadn't backed it again. What a wally. I was gutted another missed opportunity. The feeling a punter gets when he misses a winner is hard to explain to people who don't bet, but I just wanted to scream and I was inside. Well, at least Corey was laughing again, as he does every time he looks at the blown up photo that I gave him, as seen above.

Its always just before Royal Ascot starts that invokes the memories of Choisir, Sir Bob and plant pots. I know Corey is grateful, that I took him and not the wife and for him all the memories are all good. Me though, I still grimace when I think about my tales of woe.

Still, they do say its better to give than to receive.

I'll take their word on that one.

Yours

Randy.

DENNIS THE LEGEND:TRIBUTE

Next week on the 10th it will be a year to the day since the great man left this world for the celestial kitchen in the sky and it has given me the oomph to blog about one of the saddest and funniest weeks of my life. Hopefully the following tale will make you smile.

Dennis had urged me to start writing as he reckoned my tales would be a good read, especially about the days out racing which normally ended up with some sort of twist or drama, but I will save those for another day.

Dennis was bravely battling cancer and the speed that it had ravaged him was shocking because in the previous December whilst playing a round of golf, he'd played the best eighteen holes he had ever played with me. Still have the scorecard. He was in hospital when I got the email from Fleur Cushman, the editor of horse racing paper, The Racing Post Weekender.It was in response to a letter I had sent in asking to be one of their guest tipsters. She wanted five tips for the weekends racing to add to the profile I had sent in. Seeing as it was Dennis who had encouraged me, I was chuffed to bits to get an article in a national paper and was already planning to take the paper in and read it to him, whilst he was in hospital to cheer him up.

But at the 11th hour, Fleur sent me an email to say that due to space constraints there was no room to run my article that week and she would let me know in the future when it could go in. I was really disappointed, especially as I had spent most of the night studying the form and was sure it wouldn't happen.

During the following week after rallying bravely for a short while, Dennis took a turn for the worse and on the Friday night closed his eyes in utter exhaustion. On Sunday 10th April, Dennis sadly lost his brave battle, surrounded by his loving family. Devastated.

Just about as low as you can be, I felt an urge to check my emails late on Monday night after getting a gut wrenching feeling. Would you believe it, there was an email from Fleur saying, WE ARE ON! Please get your tips in by 10am Tuesday, no more than 500 words. Bloody hell, was up all night working on the form and managed to fire over the tips in time. I couldn't wait for the Wednesday when the paper was due out, I hadn't told anyone bar the wife and was as excited as a little kid!

I got the paper as early as I could and fair play to the editor, a full page spread, no adverts or pictures of horses, which they normally print with a guest tipster. They even put the photo I sent in, in its entirety. I'd sent in a holiday snap, thinking it would be cropped with just my ugly mug on show, but no, there was me, standing in a Brisbane bar with a wooden shark hanging over my head! The headline was a reference to a bet I had where I had five out of six winners for a near big win. I phoned everyone I knew to go and buy the paper and the laugh some of those had was just magic. I was walking around and just couldn't stop laughing. The feedback I got back was great and one of my workmates was treated as if he was mad, when buying the paper laughing his head off.

As I had tipped some horses, I had to go and have a bet. It was now, when the kind of twist of fate happened that I can't explain. Whilst in the bookies looking at the form, a horse's name leaped of the page. DENNIS THE LEGEND, 3.20 Exeter. I couldn't believe it and emptied my pockets, wallet and socks to scrounge every penny I had on me and lumped on just before the off. The horse ran like a drain, held up, reminders, hit 3 out, hung left, still a lot to to do approaching the last. But it was still going and even jumping the last had about 10 lengths to make up on the leader. Somehow the jockey galvanised the horse and he fairly flew up the run in. I had a feeling the result was never in doubt and sure enough Dennis got up virtually on the line and nailed the leader to win by a head. The commentator's roar of Dennis battling bravely on the run in, brought a lump to my throat and a tear to my eye. Won a few bob, Dennis was sure looking down at me at that moment, having read the article from his heavenly armchair.

The week carried on in that sort of vein and I was loving the attention, to be honest. The final twist was whilst out in Sutton Town centre on the Saturday, I bumped into an old pal and well known character from the Greyhound world, Terry Connolly, who I hadn't seen for a while. On him he had a Racing Post, here he says I got a tip for for you and opens his paper. Headline Act was his nap. I took him to the paper stand in Morrisons and gave him a copy of The Weekender, he opened it and on there in the paper was my photo and the headline of my near miss bet of £20,000! That's a proper Headline Act I told him. After him buying the paper, getting a girl from the breakfast counter to take a picture of us and making me sign it for him(my first ever autograph!) he went on his way to have a good read of the article.

Even managed to tip two winners, a second and a fourth from five tips.

Anyway, that's enough rambling on for one blog, but I can't believe its been a year since all of this happened and its all down to Dennis as without his encouragement, none of the above would have taken place.
Still miss our rounds of golf and very loud but enjoyable drink ups.

Finally, I decided to post this blog a week before Dennis' anniversary and have just checked the results of today's racing, for some reason. The winner of the 4.00 at Kempton, Den's Gift at 10-1, spooky coincidence or something else? You can decide.

Thanks for memories Mr Allen, gone but not forgotten.

Randy.

First Ever Blog, Sat 1st May.

Welcome to my first ever blog and today it is all about horse racing.
It is 2,000 Guineas Day at Newmarket and also the start of the Totesport Ten To Follow competition.
I always see today as the real start to the flat season because of it being the first classic and today hopefully we will see a superstar in the shape of St.Nicholas Abbey. I can't see how this horse will be beaten if fit, as no matter how the race is run it should suit him. If they go a crawl, he will quicken as he did in last season's Racing Post Trophy and if they go flat out he is sure to have the stamina as well as his turn of foot. Hopefully he will win and get my Ten To Follow list off to a flyer. Elusive Pimpernel and Al Zir should chase him home for the places.
Seta will hopefully win the 1000 Guineas on Sunday and I have backed them both to win, plus the double, more points for the list!
The Ten To Follow competition run in the Racing Post is a prize I have been trying to win ever since it started. I have entered the flat and jumps competition every year since it started. I have been on the leaderboard on a few occassions, but have never got close to winning it. But this year could be the year! Well thats how everyone who has entered it feels right now, as it hasn't started yet.
This years list of dreams is as follows:
St. Nicholas Abbey
Al Zir
Seta
Music Show
Passion For Gold
Jan Vermeer
Chabal
Rip Van Winkle
Sariska
Zacinto
Hopefully these ten will give me as much fun as I have had during the jumps season that has just finshed. The highlight was being at Aintree to witness the great AP McCoy winning the Grand National on Don't Push It, even had the bonus of having backed it at 20-1. Have attached a picture of the great man. For more of my horse racing images, including this year's Cheltenham Festival and Grand National day, please check out my website http://randyrannracing.foliopic.com
Anyway thats it for my first ever blog and I hope that anyone who has read it has enjoyed it and will visit the site again. Will update soon.
Yours
Randy Rann.