Grand National - Sweep & Follow
The greatest National Hunt (that’s over fences as opposed to Flat racing) horse race of the year is on today in Liverpool.
The Grand National takes place as ever at Aintree Racecourse and unfortunately this year the BBC are not letting non-residents of Britain watch it online. Last year they did and I got to see four hours of build-up as well as the race itself.
If you’re reading this early enough (the race starts on Saturday April 14 at 10:15am KC time or 4:15pm Irish time) you should pop over to Primal Sneeze and leave a comment to be included in a free sweep.
I absolutely love the National - one of the great sights in sport is seeing a horse soar over The Chair.
If no horses pull out before it starts it’s a forty horse race. Irish-trained horses have won five of the last eight Nationals. Thirty jumps in four and a half-miles.
The BBC here have a fence-by-fence analysis video of the race
You’ll hear the commentators refer to the horses crossing the Melling Road a couple of times which is another thing to make my nostalgic muscles twinge because having family in Melling I have cycled through Aintree Racecourse dozens of times.
My two favourite Grand Nationals:
1) In the Weigh Room of the Phoenix Park Racecourse during a race meeting in Dublin with a load of jockeys in their underwear as we all watched a small television up in the corner. Now there was a knowledgeable audience, even if they were Flat jockeys.
2) The Lake District in Cumbria, Northern England nearing the end of an eighty-mile walk. Listening on my monocular walkman radio and relaying out loud to my fellow walker the commentary word-for-word. I did the whole race when even the professional commentators get to take turns.
Note that both of my favourite Nationals are considerably outdone in the comments below
A huge number of Irish people will be watching today’s race, and people who don’t ordinarily bet will have a little flutter making a mess of the odds because they’ll back based on name or the colours the jockey will be wearing - but that can give you better odds than your choice deserves just as much as it can give you worse ones.
And I haven’t given up yet myself on the idea of watching it somehow in Kansas City. Computhers and d’internet are powerful things.
Eolaí gan Fhéile:
My favourite was 2000 when Papillon, trained by Ted Walsh and ridden by his son, Ruby (real name Rupert, for those who are interested).
I was sitting beside one of Ted’s stable staff in the crowded bar of my local. The cheers were deafening. The windows shook. The young girl began to cry and clung onto me. Through the sobs she told me she’d been given money by her parents to buy a second-hand car. She put most of it on Papillon at 33/1 that morning. (SP was 10/1). She really believed in the horse. The tears were because if he had lost her parents would have been unhappy, to say the least.
Over the din, someone called for quiet. There were familiar faces on the TV screen. Look, there’s Mary. And Kevin. And … hold on … me too In the excitement, we hadn’t noticed that a Sky camera crew were in the pub covering our post-race celebrations live.
The home-coming was just as exciting. The traffic came to a standstill for a parade. Papillon didn’t shy. He seemed to revel in the attention. Kids slipped in and out under him. Everyone wanted to pat him. Everyone wanted to be part of the victory. The owner bought a round of drinks … for the whole village. The day after, he was equipped with saddlebags full of sweets and taken to the local primary school.
This what horse racing is about. I’ve talked about it in my doing-a-bet post. It’s not the betting - that’s a sideline, a bonus. (An expensive new car for one girl). It’s about appreciating a good horse. It’s about excitement. It’s a way of life.