Folkestone Races: Kylie Night
Rather surprisingly I have now made two visits to the races at Folkestone this year. This visit was notable for three reasons: it marked the leaving do of Mr Minns and Mr Groot, the birthday of Mr Manning and the presence of Kylie(ish). My soul was still deeply scarred from the previous visit and my failure to pick anything like a winner so I expected nothing financially interesting from the evening.
The weather started looking very dodgy as we got there so we sought refuge in the stands.
The rain passed pretty quickly though and the serious issue of form studying began. I was determined to be slightly more successful than last time, which, in theory, was going to be possible since I only had to pick one winner (or place) in six races.
I was tempted by this horse as it clearly looked insane (a tactic that worked for me one year), but plumped for Right Stuff (below). It was the favourite, but this is Folkestone, and they have a habit of winning most of the time.
On a side issue, they appear to make St. John’s Ambulance people quite big these days.
Awww, the birthday boy. Happy Birthday mate. It was later revealed he did very badly in the betting game.
Gone are the days of betting with the Tote - I use these real things outside with people shouting out stuff I don’t understand.
Just to prove the Right Stuff pick wasn’t a fluke, I followed that up with a nice each way winner…
There is now a large gap in the photography as the adrenalin of the racing took over and I picked another winner, finishing up for only the second time. After the races the Kylie tribute started and Mr Minns’ drunkenness reached new heights.
It is probably necessary to show that I wasn’t the only photographer taking photos of Kylie(ish) and her dancers. His beard is way bigger than mine.
Kylie(ish) was pretty good. I expect she would have been even better if I had consumed 8 Magners, but despite the rain she gave it a good go. Her performance was enhanced by the dancers according to the men in the crowd.
All in all, a good evening, proving that sometimes one can beat the bookie. I am off to buy the Racing Post.
