Roving Reports: Royal Ascot geegeez.co.uk
The summer Festival season is in full swing and there's none bigger than Royal Ascot week, writes David Massey. It's a long, challenging week if you're working in the ring, which I was, but it did at least kick off on the right note with a relaxing evening at Windsor on the Monday.
Normally I'd be on the team - I'm working for Rob and the S&D mob this week - but he tells me the Windsor Monday nights have been rather poor for business this year, a telling sign if ever there was one. So instead I'm sat behind the joint with a pint in one hand and a race card in the other, backing paddock picks.
This goes spectacularly badly and I'm almost a oner down after three races so I decide to abandon the paddock and go with form instead, see if that can turn the evening around. An each-way bet on Thankuappreciate gets me my first return of the night, a whopping £26.
From my perch I call to Jason, on the machine, to ask what price It's How We Roll is in the next. He tells me I can have 20s. "Keep the £26 then, I'll have £13 each-way." I also back it online with a bookmaker that's paying 4 places at 16s. When he romps home by an easy length and a bit at a well-backed 11-1, the oi oiiiis go up from my chair. The evening well and truly turned around and I've got some pocket money to have a crack with through the week now!
Rather than a hotel, Rob has rented a house for the week in Bracknell for the team, and a lovely house it is, too: a quiet area with a little garden we can relax in at night. Better still, it's a mere 10 minute drive to the Ascot car parks, a right result. Despite a last-race time of 6.10pm every day (thanks for that, Ascot) we are still back for just after 7 most nights, which gives genuine time to wind down with food and a beer.
Tuesday, unsurprisingly, begins early at 8.30am. Once in, I head off to the greenhouse that poses as a marquee in the middle of the track to get some writing done. Stiflingly hot in there last year, there is at least some air conditioning this time which is just as well, as a humid week is forecast.
For the first two days I'll be on the rail, facing the Royal Enclosure, so if the King fancies a fiver each-way on one I'll be happy to accommodate him. Tuesday and Wednesday are the quietest days, betting-wise. Rob tells me if I take four grand today he'll be delighted. "Only way you'll take more is if you bump into a punter." Well.....
Once the Royals have taken their seats betting tends to begin. It's very quiet business for the Queen Anne, until one guy stands in front of me. "Can I help you?" I enquiry politely.
Reader, he pulls a wad of fifties out of his pocket as big as any roll of Andrex you've seen. "I'll have fifty on that, fifty on that, fifty on that and a hundred on that," he says, handing me five crisp bullseyes for his four selections. I thank him and he walks off. Rob is betting two doors up from me and throws me a look that says "nicely done". "Ask him if he's got any mates that want a bet with us!" he shouts at me. Our punter does not back Triple Time but he's back again for the Coventry. This time he picks three out, and has a hundred on each. He walks off, then two minutes later walks back and has another two selections for £100 a pop. He walks away again but within a minute has another £200 on Asnada. I can see the strained look on Rob's face that says "for God's sake, don't lose this guy," and I do all I can to keep him. River Tiber wins and he's not backed that as one of his selections either. What's his next move?
Let's keep it brief. He has £700 on the next, £50 of which is on Bradsell at 12s, so almost wipes his face. He tells me to keep the £650 and have it all on Chaldean as, and I quote, "Frankie tells me this will win." I'm not going to argue, he might be well acquainted with Frankie for all I know, but sadly for him Frankie is wrong and Paddington proves too good for him. He splashes out a grand on the Ascot Stakes, £100 of which is on winner Ahorsewithnoname at 13-2, has £50 of that back on Royal Champion in the next at 16s (but, I ought to add, has another £800 on top of that on losers) and, come the last, out come the big guns. "I'll have a thousand on Vauban," he says, and stumps up from the cash pile, which has dwindled somewhat since two o'clock. He walks off, then comes back five minutes later with an acquaintance. 'I'll have another thousand Vauban," he says, and pulls out a card. Rob hands me the card machine but the transaction won't go through. I look at the card - it's a credit card. I inform him only debit cards can be taken. He opens his wallet and there must be a dozen cards in there, but not one of them is a debit card. I'll bet Coutts haven't closed his account.
So, he pulls the remaining cash out of his pocket. There's around £800 left. Fully expecting him to have that on the jolly, what does he do instead? Backs four rags at £200 a piece, that's what. Rob, who is by now as bewildered as the rest of us at finding such a miracle punter, is stunned. He picks his 2k up in cash post-race and my first and indeed only question to him is whether he'll be here tomorrow. Sadly, he informs me, he has meetings in Dubai to attend and won't be here the rest of the week. I wish him all the best and thank him for his business. I've taken over 9k on the day, over half of it with him alone.
Wednesday. My word, if matey boy from Day 1 was unlucky, I'm about to meet his exact opposite. A lady that cannot stop backing winners.
Her name was Deborah, as Pulp might have sang, and she was the wife of a high-court judge, although that bit wasn't in the lyrics for Common People, as I recall. She's backing two or three a race and having about £60 on each time. She has, and I'm not making any of this up - a tenner each-way Villanova Queen at 25s, £15ew Rogue Millennium in the Duke Of Cambridge at 9s, £20 win Mosthadaf in the Prince Of Wales, a tenner each-way Jimi Hendrix (and £15 each-way Sonny Liston, for good measure) in the Hunt Cup and £15 each-way Big Evs in the Windsor Castle. She's almost embarrassed to pick up after the last one wins. We have a group photo as I pay her out for one final time. She reckons she's about a grand up on the day. I tell her now might be a good time to buy a lottery ticket.....
Thursday and it's getting hotter. The greenhouse/marquee coffee machine has packed up, and we appear to be out of teabags too. I make a mental note to bring some Yorkshire teabags in tomorrow. (A worker should always - ALWAYS - have teabag reserves, either in the car or in your kit bag. Vital.)
It's Ladies Day, which might as well be called Frankie Day. I actually do something proactive, namely write down Frankie's mounts and stick them to the front of the light board, so when I'm asked I can just point to my handiwork. It does the trick.
I should add I'm now working in Tatts, on the back row, with Liam. I worked with Liam last year, he likes a bet and knows his stuff. Betting on rugby is his thing, although the one time he told me "this can't lose on the handicap" the bet was sunk by half-time. We've all done it.
I don't strike a bet on Valiant Force, the 150-1 winner of the Norfolk Stakes, but I can see on the payout sheet that the rails has laid a tenner each-way at the price and someone had a fiver win-only at 125s. That's confidence for you. The results continue to be terrific, with 18-1 Desert Hero and 50-1 Witch Hunter almost unbacked, and by the time Frankie gets his winner, with Courage Mon Ami in the Gold Cup, his legions of fans have rather given up hope and it's actually a good result.
By Friday we are flagging, the heat taking its toll and I hear stories of some rather poorly workers on some firms. Not all of it is alcohol related either. However, results have been unbelievable and some of the bigger firms already have their expenses on the week paid for. You wouldn't normally do that until midway through Friday, but it's clear that plenty of the firms are going to be paying a bonus to their workers this year.
One thing to be wary of Ascot week is that you'll almost certainly be tested on a purchase, the local council sending in an under-18 to make sure you're not serving them. The lad that comes up to me before the first looks very young and when I ask him for ID, he cannot produce any. So I ask him his age, and he readily tells me he's 16. I tell him I can't serve him and he goes on his way. I'll say this though - as he puts his money away I see a slip in his hand from one of the very big joints and it's clear they have not asked him anything. That's disappointing from a firm that really ought to know better.
Coming from a retail background, asking for ID is second nature to me, but there's plenty of firms that go with the "what harm are they doing, they're only having a bet" line and I'd wager most of us reading this had our first investment in school uniform. But times change, and a bookmaker can easily lose his or her license for multiple strikes these days, so you always have to ask. I do, anyway.
Three winning favourites and a Frankie double on the Friday is a bit of a grounding after a good week, but business was brisk and getting Little Big Bear beaten - I laid an £880-£800 in Tatts, and the rails took an even grand - means a winning day.
None of us want to get up Saturday morning but the end is now in sight. I feel very smug driving in, with no traffic on the road, but as I approach the signs telling me "Display Parking Badges Now" I realise I've left mine at the house and have to go back and fetch it. This results in me losing a potentially good parking spot and by the time I moor up, I'm right at the back of the car park and have to walk up the big hill to get to the course. Arriving at the greenhouse/marquee I'm already soaked in sweat, it's that hot.
I go for a wander down to the silver ring around lunchtime to see how some of the items in there are getting on. My good mate Joe, working for Paul Johnson, tells me he fancies Age Of Kings quite strongly. I wish I'd listened a bit harder to him. When I congratulate him by text later he also tells me he had a bit each-way on Khaadem in the Jubilee. His crystal ball was on good form, clearly.
Indeed, today really is humid and working conditions for the afternoon are unpleasant. Saturday tends to be more of a family day but it's busy, and the crowd more chatty. I like that, as it means you get to know your audience a bit better and you can actually call them by their name when they come up for a bet, adding a bit of a personal touch. My favourites are three girls from Enfield who have no clue about betting at the start of the day but are seasoned professionals by the end of it, and they promise me they'll go racing more now they know what they're doing. I do hope so!
There's not much big money flying around today but plenty of scores and forties which is fine, and results are again favourable in the main. It's been a winning week, which is just as well as we're all knackered out and ready for home.
I wonder if my Tuesday punter will be at Southwell next Monday? You never know...
