I have to say I’m really enjoying the holidays, although concerned that an unusually small quantity of alcohol has passed my lips this last week, considering everyone else seems to be having no trouble at all!
I decided to take some action and amble up to the crowds at Stanley Race Course to find some drinking buddies and see if I could make amends.
A quick summary of Stanley Sports:-
This is an annual event, starting on 26th December lasting three days.
Day one and two are occupied with horseracing and foot events in between (although you have to be careful not to get trampled by a horse! – Nah I’m just kidding – foot events are held between each race. The third day is Gymkhana, and noticeable by the number of nags, rather than thoroughbreds, strutting around, but is the best day as everyone is having a laugh, even the horses I think?
I have rolled into, what I thought to be, Gymkhana day but due to adverse weather conditions, on day two, the races had been delayed and they are catching up today. Not such a drama as I don’t mind watching a bit of horseracing, especially when the sun is shining and the beers are cold. Although I could have knitted a jumper the time it took the jockeys to get ready at the start line! And that’s saying something considering I can’t knit!
Because of the delays I have to admit I found the racing a bit dull and only enjoyed listening to the names of the horses spoken over the megaphone…‘See me do it’ ’Whirling Fireball’ and ‘I’m a pretty Pony’ ok I made that one up, but horse names are just about that ridiculous aren’t they? Although I would love to hear the commentator saying ‘Hoof Hearted’ in quick succession over the megaphone!
After a while of unsuccessfully finding any mates I contemplated going home when the commentator announced the next foot event ‘The Ladies Sack Race’. I recalled for a minute how, as a youngster, I used to drag my poor mother out onto the course. I stood at the fence day dreaming while the ladies lined up on the course. Just then Owen Summers (who has to be name and shamed for bullying) appeared in front of me with a sack and said “Come on Marie – there’s not enough ladies!” A little stunned having been knocked from my thoughts I unwilling took the sack and walked down the course. As I greeted the others with a half hearted (try saying that in quick succession a few times) smile I stepped into the sack and look down the course “Shit that’s a long way!” as just then PEEEEP! Went the whistle! “Shit! - jump you silly cow!” I thought and quickly leapt into action. Zoe Luxton a fairly short, but fast little bunny rabbit was bounding along just ahead. “Got to catch her – I’m not going to be last – Jump – Fucking stupid small sacks – Almost there!” Were just a few of the thoughts and quite whispers while bouncing awkwardly down the course.
After what seemed like forever I made one last leap for the line – Phew it’s over! I looked up just in time to see the last person cross the line “Yes I wasn’t last!” I think happily to myself. As I get to my feet and remove the stupidly small sack I am approached by a marshal who asks for my name – unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough to make something up and gave my real name, as he jots it down on his board and hands me a yellow rosette…3rd place…umm thanks I say as I swiftly head back to the girls.
Right kids – if anyone asks you won a running race now lets get out of here before mummy gets cornered for something worse…the wheelbarrow race!
I decided to take some action and amble up to the crowds at Stanley Race Course to find some drinking buddies and see if I could make amends.
A quick summary of Stanley Sports:-
This is an annual event, starting on 26th December lasting three days.
Day one and two are occupied with horseracing and foot events in between (although you have to be careful not to get trampled by a horse! – Nah I’m just kidding – foot events are held between each race. The third day is Gymkhana, and noticeable by the number of nags, rather than thoroughbreds, strutting around, but is the best day as everyone is having a laugh, even the horses I think?
I have rolled into, what I thought to be, Gymkhana day but due to adverse weather conditions, on day two, the races had been delayed and they are catching up today. Not such a drama as I don’t mind watching a bit of horseracing, especially when the sun is shining and the beers are cold. Although I could have knitted a jumper the time it took the jockeys to get ready at the start line! And that’s saying something considering I can’t knit!
Because of the delays I have to admit I found the racing a bit dull and only enjoyed listening to the names of the horses spoken over the megaphone…‘See me do it’ ’Whirling Fireball’ and ‘I’m a pretty Pony’ ok I made that one up, but horse names are just about that ridiculous aren’t they? Although I would love to hear the commentator saying ‘Hoof Hearted’ in quick succession over the megaphone!
After a while of unsuccessfully finding any mates I contemplated going home when the commentator announced the next foot event ‘The Ladies Sack Race’. I recalled for a minute how, as a youngster, I used to drag my poor mother out onto the course. I stood at the fence day dreaming while the ladies lined up on the course. Just then Owen Summers (who has to be name and shamed for bullying) appeared in front of me with a sack and said “Come on Marie – there’s not enough ladies!” A little stunned having been knocked from my thoughts I unwilling took the sack and walked down the course. As I greeted the others with a half hearted (try saying that in quick succession a few times) smile I stepped into the sack and look down the course “Shit that’s a long way!” as just then PEEEEP! Went the whistle! “Shit! - jump you silly cow!” I thought and quickly leapt into action. Zoe Luxton a fairly short, but fast little bunny rabbit was bounding along just ahead. “Got to catch her – I’m not going to be last – Jump – Fucking stupid small sacks – Almost there!” Were just a few of the thoughts and quite whispers while bouncing awkwardly down the course.
After what seemed like forever I made one last leap for the line – Phew it’s over! I looked up just in time to see the last person cross the line “Yes I wasn’t last!” I think happily to myself. As I get to my feet and remove the stupidly small sack I am approached by a marshal who asks for my name – unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough to make something up and gave my real name, as he jots it down on his board and hands me a yellow rosette…3rd place…umm thanks I say as I swiftly head back to the girls.
Right kids – if anyone asks you won a running race now lets get out of here before mummy gets cornered for something worse…the wheelbarrow race!
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