Royal Ascot 20/6/25 - You Can Call Me (Anything But) Al

It's Sunday, I'm still in jetlagged mode from spending 8 hours a day standing up in 30 degree heat on a tin tray when the only 30 degree I'm used to in the frozen north is on the Fahrenheit scale. I'm going to do a quick daily summary of the betting, rather than a blow by blow account, as my memory of actual events is hazy at best.

I do recall, when betting in front of the Sagaro Bar, that the ideal time for betting was, basically, between songs or, at a push, during the bridge. The rest of it was a pantomime of gesticulations, miming, lip reading and "sorry, you said FIVE, I though you said "NINE"... having said that I think the band was a good innovation as it brought crowds up that would ordinarily be round the back. Could do with their set finishing 5 minutes before racing as oppose to one occasion where the field thundered past to the strains of "Don't Stop Me Now".

Ascot looked after us very well. The staff are excellent, the wifi was perfect, and the organisation was first class from Monday drop off to Saturday exit (roads marshalled properly, away from Car Park 6 and on open road in under 3 minutes - Cheltenham please take note...) They still need a bloody big screen for the folk on The Golden Gate Lawn though...

Race 1 was a conundrum. Simon is getting into the Dad joke swing of things (learning from the master) and professed that Gold Digger was a rich vein of humour. He went with something stereotypical about ex partners but me, with the superior wit, went with something altogether more edgy "Dogs in the moonlight" and the fact that nobody got it just made it all the better (see Punxsutawney Phil) and I was feeling rather proud of myself. Anyway, speed forward 14 hours or so and, as a man of 57, I was awake around 4:30am. It struck me, at that very instant, the lyric is "Bone Digger" not "Gold Digger". Kept me awake for an hour that one. Simon accepted my fulsome apology over breakfast- it's only the 2nd one this year so I told him to make the most of it.

We stay in race one and the first bet is on Oh Cecilia at a big price. The young lady told me her name was Cecilia and she was looking forward to picking up her winnings. I told her she was breaking my heart. I was gratified to learn later that Simon made much the same gag on the other pitch though he went with being down on his knees which I thought was a little forward of him.

Race 4 - Simon had to contend with most of his punters calling it "Brain" but we got "Brian". "It's had some life that one" I ventured. I was gratified that a lovely young lady the first time I tried it instantly got it and broke into a laugh. And not a pity laugh like I normally get, but an actual full on laugh. I've waited 12 years for one of them. Her mate bet something and I apologised that I didn't have a gag for it. She said wanted her money back, I loved her even more and instantly offered the pair of them a job. Buoyed by my success I continued with the relentlessness usually reserved for a Brownlee brother. One lady was mystified and, having consumed a not insignificant amount of Pimms, wouldn't let it go. Explanations of gags are never good and her husband was 10 yards away and was awaiting his bet slip so I suggested she ask him. 5 minutes later the husband pops back;

"Are you the Brian bookmaker mate?" "I am, I'm afraid", I said with an air of trepidation "Welease Wodewick" he cried and went into a fit of belly laughs. I offered him a job as well.

And staying in race 4 Simon topped me in the Dad joke stakes with every bet on the 8 "£10 each way on January", "You'll need to wait 6 months for that". I feel like an especially proud owner who's toilet trained his puppy.

Betting wise, I'm not gonna put any false jeopardy in here folks. High betting slip turnover, large fields and dream results meant we had our best day on course, I believe, ever. Venetian Sun and Time For Sandals ("yeah those heels look murder, love") were monster results and Cercene may be the single best result we've had on track. Please bear in mind we are a small firm operating on a take of around £2000 per pitch per race (2 pitches at Ascot) on the busiest races, and you'll see it's not earth shattering but, for a little firm like us, the odd one of those makes the sunstroke and the dehydration just about bearable.

Right, afternoon nap and I may just be able to get Saturday's version at some point later on tonight. Until then...