Showing posts with label horse racing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label horse racing. Show all posts

Saturday, 24 March 2012

Bangor on dee 24/03/2012

This morning I was excited! I'd gotten up early; had a massive bowl of honey nut cheerios; and I went out on my bike for a few hours. I don't usually go out on my bike on  a Saturday; but, tomorrow is Evie's birthday; so my Sunday run will also be a short one. I was excited because it was going to be a sunny day; and I was going to Bangor on dee racecourse with my Mum, Dad, and Evie; my dad is usually very reluctant to do anything, or go anywhere; so I was quite pleased to be going.  The first race however; really put a dampener on the rest of the day....and I'm still gutted as I write this now at 8pm.

I was between the winning post and the last fence; when the horses were making their way around the course on their first circuit. Olivino; hit the second fence; and took a crashing fall. The other runners proceeded; as you'd expect; and poor Olivino got up; and it soon became apparent that one of his front legs was broken. He continued to run, not bearing any weight on his broken leg; which was hopelessly dangling down; and then some of the course staff managed to stop the horse just past the finish line. The green privacy covers went up; to prevent the onlooking crowds from seeing the vet 'attend' to the horse- from where I was standing, I could see what was going on; the vet came over; and literally seconds after he looked at the horse; I heard a loud clatter; and the horse went from being stood up; to lying on the floor. For a split second; I was questioning myself; why was the horse on the floor all of a sudden; why is it kicking it's legs? Then, almost as an afterthought; I'd realised that the horse had been "destroyed" as they call it; and the forlorn movements of the horses legs we're simply the horses nerves; it's brain hopelessly shooting out it's last electrical impulses to no avail. A life ended; right before my eyes. 11 years on the planet; gone in those circumstances- with a bullet to the head.  I felt upset; and the rest of the day; as I continued to pick horses; and read all the form; it was marred by that vision of Olivino's legs thrashing around.

A sense of guilt came over me. I was there as a punter. Someone paying money; to see horses run. Betting on the horses to run. Was I contributing to Olivino's demise? And all the other ill-fated horses who have had their lives cut short for our pleasure? If I go down this path; I end up getting angry with the flag wavers that protest against horse racing; and frustrated at the wealthy people involved with owning the horses; who just see them as numbers or hobbies and care little about the welfare of the individual animal. I've just 'tweeted' my sincere condolences to the owner of Olivino; on Twitter  and he replied "many thanks he gave us so much fun great memories. Never knew how to fall  " - If I owned a horse that had been put down, I'd be well and truly gutted- not because of the money 'lost'; but because my horse had died!  I shouldn't really judge anyone by my standards though. I'm sure the guy is upset.  I'm not waving any flags here; or pushing any causes. I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen to the horses body? I bet the people who look after the horse; the people who brought the horse to race; would they be gutted, going home with an empty horse box?  At the end of the day; these animals are bred to race and serve their purpose .  They are made for it. If they banned horse racing; quite a high percentage of the Thoroughbreds alive in the UK would be killed- surplus to requirements. There's no way of knowing for sure; people in the industry will give you conflicting numbers, from the "work a day for world piece" hippies that you see giving out leaflets in town centres with pictures of shaved one eyed mongrels in cages.  I was reading a report from the Guardian that went undercover, posing as a racehorse owner who had some horses that weren't up to standard; when calling a specialist horse abattoir (that seemed to confirm that many racehorses that are no longer viable to keep are sent to France for meat 3,000 per year) - I don't really read into this; they also report how much horse meat "we" export to France. France has it's own racing industry; would it really in-source that much meat from us? It's in a news paper any way. They're all liars. Is horse meat that commercially viable?  If the statistics are half true; it's an outrage that the very people who make their millions out of horses are failing to put the horses welfare first- they're all liars too.  Apparently; of the 4000 race horses that retire each year; only 90 are catered for by the industry. Horses cost around 4K a year to keep; not including vet bills.  I don't know what the answers are really; and I don't know what to believe. 

 I know that today will stay with me. At this point in life; it's not financially viable for me to be involved in horse racing; it really is a sport for the rich. I love horse racing, and I love horses; and who knows where my career at sea will take me; and to what heights my income will rise to. I know that I would one day like to have an interest in a race horse; but I'd like to be as involved as possible; I'd want to know the horse and know it would be looked after after it's racing days are over. I wouldn't see it as a hobby; I'd see it as something much more. But then; how would it affect me, if it was my horse that was destroyed? In fact I'd one day just like to actually own a horse; racing or not. When ever I go out on my bike (alone) I occasionally  stop and say hello to them; as most of my rides involve the countryside; and around here horses in the countryside are common as muck. I guess this is all in an "ideal world" - and I'd be here all day blathering on about what I would, and wouldn't do. 


Right now; I want to forget about horseracing. 

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Rejection, rejection, and more rejection.

I got an email today from one of the training companies that run the cadetships, saying I have not been selected for interview; which was a bit of a blow; I don't like rejection as much as the next man; but I was sure that on my applications I came across as someone genuinely interested, and serious about pursuing this career, some one academically capable, and possessing  the right personality traits to succeed. I've failed twice with the RFA, but that was different. I passed an RT test, and I made the sift, and I was invited for interview; on two occasions. Maybe it was the fact that I went to Portsmouth; and going through those motions made the rejection somewhat different- there was a sense of achievement there, amidst the failure; my feedback was basically, that I interviewed well, and on another day I would have got in. Tough luck for me.  Getting a generic e-mail is a little more soul destroying; no mention of why, or when I can re-apply; thank you and fuck off.  I then checked my email, and realised it had been over 28 days since I'd applied for Viking training; which meant another rejection; this one not even with anything to to symbolize it; just nothing, but nothing, for 28 days, then nothing.  Only yesterday, I was saying to myself; I need to just concentrate on the present; being at college- when it happens, it happens. When it happens. I was that confident this was for me. There's a slight doubt now; what if they all come back as rejections, where do I stand then? Wait another year? I think I would if I had to. I guess I've got BP to apply for in December, and I'm going to print out an application for carnival UK tomorrow; I think with my customer service background, and obvious interest in a career as a deck officer; could put me in a decent position. Plus, I've got Meridian, Maersk, SSTG, and CMT that I'm yet to hear from. So, it's time to focus on other things, for now.  I hope that when I next mention the Merchant Navy in my blog, it's good news; interview related maybe!

I had an enjoyable day at the races today. Stark contrast to the horrible day I had at Aintree races.  Bangor-on-dee; my favourite course; and my favourite jockey, Charlie Poste got the first winner for me, and I went on to get another winner, and two seconds. I actually bet, and won on a horse ridden by Tony Mc coy; dispelling the belief that he's my bogey jockey; as in, when I back him, he loses, when I don't he wins. How narcissistic of me!

On the way, I seen this car, parked at Wrexham train station.

I'm not sure if I think this is awesome, or pathetic



Here's Charlie Poste, on Milo Milan, before winning the first race.