Show up at the show down
Ah, there you all are. Haven't see you beggars since the last outing at
old Albert. Well, the fact of the matter is, Lady R has rather been hankering
over a vineyard for a while now, and after the last race here we were booked
to fly down to pastures nouveau for a drop of plonk tasting. Anyway, what
with all this ash about we couldn't get a flight for weeks. Then there
were problems with my plastic and the whopping bar bill, and to tell you
the truth old boy, I've been on the run. Yes, daren't show "me boat" around
the "smoke" for a while. What quaint vernacular they employ round here.
Upshot of it was Great Aunt Ambrosia popped her clogs, stonking
inheritance followed, bar bill paid, Rocket solvent again. Quite worried
for a while there, thought I might have to seek gainful employment,
shocking prospect!
Got a call from the Cap'n, "Rocket old chap" he says, "how do you fancy popping down to the race and giving the troops a bit of a chivvy up, what!". So I told him, "be delighted to, old boy, always game to rub linament into tired limbs and run around with the oranges at half time." No, don't mind doing the orange run at all, but I draw the line at lemons, can't waste good fruit on eating.
So eventually the Cap'n pulls rank (a common affliction in the forces,
or so I'm told): "Rocket old chap, I've heard of you from old, and this
time I need your race report to be a report on the racing." Alright, steady
on, give it to me straight, are you saying you think I waffle on too much?
What balderdash! Just never seen the point of jawing about the race, anyone
who is anyone was there and saw it for themselves, surely.
Well apparently
not this time.
It was a mainly cockanknee affair (did that sound right?). All local clubs with good old stalwarts Worcester and ExCalibre making the long trek. Where were the rest? Still one over the eight after the football I'll be bound. Like their footie the northern chaps, yet it still takes a proper player, from a proper club to bag a hatrick to keep the nation singing. Good man Defoe, could have done with him in the summer. A few gens ago my people knew his people don't you know (if it's the Defoe family I'm thinking of). Good vineyards in South Africa, on a par with the frogs.
(Yes, yes, I know the racing...) Well here goes: after, I'm told, a quiet season, our magnificent host Thames, battled hard to well earned second places in both events, well done chaps. The not so pink machine, having an up and down season, just nudged back into two third places, but by my eye, seemed to be lacking a bit of early season firepower, apologies if I'm wrong, best intents and all that. Always tricky teams those two. Other notable mentions go to the Hurricanes who are blowing up a storm these days and Raging who veritably rip off the line. I would say gold stars all round for effort to the rest but we don't tend to do that sort of thing down here.
But what of our brave boys in blue I hear you ask, I wouldn't normally bother, hate
blowing our own trumpet, just following orders and all that. Well too many new
faces to remember and too many old ones to forget. I never thought I'd say this
but name tags all round seem to be the order of the day. Cap'n's got the gang
firing on more cylinders than they have done for a while (wonder if he could
look at my old Massey, I'll never get the bottom field done with her in this
state), and the chaps romped home to two stonking wins and a final 1.55 which
sounds rather like new fangled metric to me. I thought all 500m results started
with a 2-something in old money. And the league to boot!
Personally I put it down to the oranges and linament. Cheating you say,
course its not cheating, that's CRICKET!
Toodle pip.
Lord R
