Some of us had such a good time this weekend on a Bears Unlimited outing to our local racecourse, that I wanted to tell you about it.
I, is of course, me, Patrick. Being Irish I have horseracing in my blood and, as well as my Guinness, I do like a small (and controlled of course) flutter on the horses.
It was our smallest racecourse that we attended, that at Fakenham. Small racecourse it might be, but what a big day out it was. The chaps and I haven't enjoyed ourselves so much since we were in Ireland.
I spent a lot of time studying all the notes and form in my racecard, trying not to get distracted by the legs of the racecourses walking past. There was lots of useful and very interesting information to digest.
But for me, having a bear's instinct for a winning horse, the best way to pick the right horse to back, was to get up close and personal and engage them in a bit of eye contact as they came past (when I wasn't posing for the camera, that was).
I found I had a special fondnesss for the Irish horses, and there were plenty of them. But at the end of the day, I couldn't help but be influenced by the jockey's colours. What great combinations some of them had come up with!
So did I go home richer or poorer. Well I made just enough to pay for my pint of Norfolk's finest ale, Woodforde's Wherry, and that was good enough for me.
We'll hope to make a visit to the races a regular feature in the B.U. diary, but, until next time, I'm contenting myself with pulling a Dick Francis novel off the B.U. bookshelves.
Lots of love, Patrick and all at Bears Unlimited xxx
1 comment:
You certainly look happy at the racecourse Patrick. We have one or two in the Midlands. We have Warwick, and of course Cheltenham, where your family go to Greenbelt.
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