Funny/positive festival tales

Tout Seul

Tout Seul

Senior Jockey
Joined
May 2, 2003
Messages
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Next week many tales of past Festivals will be re-told. Many will change in the telling as time and Alcohol have an impact. Lots of nasty stuff in the real world but surely there is fund of funny and/or positive tales to be told by forum members.

I'll start with a positive one from 1999.

We checked at the White House Hotel near Staverton on the Monday evening and decided to eat there and have a quiet night before the week to come. Had dinner and sat in the bar/lounge. Soon started chatting with a similar sized group (6) of fellows from Ireland. Soon the rounds were combined and there was enjoyable discussion and exchange of views on the various races to come. Plenty of knowledgeable comments and shrewd analysis, surprisingly some of which came from our side together with some firm opinions. Come 2am and the last round was served. Pretty well everyone was wrecked and it was time to say "good luck with yours but hope mine wins". I had been effusive in my praise of Barton in the RSA Hurdle (as it was) and a guy in the other group was a strong proponent of Alexander Banquet. Can't remember who but one of us suggested an even money match. We agreed that which one beat the other provided the first one was at least placed would be the winner. Bet was a decent amount which would probably cover my accommodation costs for the week.

The other were off to the races by the time I surfaced. In the race Barton won impressively whilst Alexander Banquet ran below expectations. We had a good day and drank at the course after racing. On return to the hotel we were informed that the other group had gone home. Disappointing as the the guy had seemed a totally decent sort but then logic kicked in. Silly bet to have made!

Went out to dinner in Montpelier during which one of my friends said 'that bloke looks like the one from last night". It was.
He had remembered us talking about having dinner in Montpelier and had set out to find us. Missed his flight home but determined to settle his obligation. He refused to join us for dinner and also the offer of a bed on the floor in my room preferring to return to the airport.

Getting paid out was good but not as good as finding out that people like that DO exist!
 
That's a nice story TS, and in my experience typical of the vast majority of true racing fans at the Festival.

I think one of the funniest things I've seen in recent years was walking back to Prestbury along the back straight of the course one year on Gold Cup day four years ago.

Two young lads fully suited and booted had got into the course and were playing silly beggars running down the back straight, and had just clambered over one of the fences. Never good to see on the hallowed turf. Anyhow, despite our feelings about them breaking on to the course we both egged them on to jump the next fence. We were ahead of them on the landing side and started to give them a commentary as they approached it, and they were really in to it playing the part slapping their backsides as they giddyuped to the fence. They both jumped up, clambered over, and dropped down the other side just as they had over the previous fence, almost certainly ready to carry on and do exactly the same up to and over the next fence. What they didn't know that was known to the two of us was it was the water jump! They landed fully submerged into the water, dripping wet and filthy from head to toe.

Lesson learned that drunken shenanigans don't pay for them, and for us an unexpected big belly laugh when we were feeling miserable that the best four days of the year were over for another twelve months.
 
The first time Grassy and Digger took the short cut round the course to the Plough, two hours later covered in mud and in full flow Scottish cursing still makes me laugh.
 
I still have no clue how we eventually managed to find our way to the boozer.

The field (the wrong one) we wandered into, appears only to exist in a 5th dimension, because I'm fuc*ked if I can locate it on Google maps!
 
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I'd have been fine if it hadn't been for Grassy being total tatters. He wasnt for listening that we had to go over the wee bridge to get into the right field to take us back. We jumped into a field actually behind the pub then somehow ended up back in the right field..... we were indeed covered in mud as it gets a bit dark when you are blind drunk.
 
I reject this version of events as being both inaccurate and highly libellous.

We completely missed the bridge on our way to getting lost, and consequently, there was never a ‘we should cross this bridge’ decision-point reached - let alone one which I rejected.*

I know this for a fact, because if I had rejected if, Digger would have done what he always does; correctly identified I was wrong, crossed the bridge anyway, and we would have made it to the boozer two hours earlier than we actually did.

The defence rests.

* There was definitely a troll under that bridge the first time we passed, and I wasn’t for fu*cking chancing it.
 
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I remember being in the Plough after Gold Cup day in 2004 and some sassanach beside us was comparing Best Mate to Arkle.

Oh how we laughed!
 
Terry Biddlecombe?! I can't think of anyone else stupid enough that would have been in the Plough at that time, not even the landlords dog!
 
Two years ago, about 20 minutes before the off of the Supreme, I was standing out on the lawn in front of the stands with Eddie when I spotted a friend of a friend. I went over to say hello, but I could see that he was puzzled and didn't recognise me. I explained that I was a friend of "Brian's", and that we had met before. He hesitantly accepted this and then asked me how I was, and how was "Brian". But as soon as he spoke I realised I had the wrong man. I never let on, of course, and he stood chatting very amiably to Eddie and myself for several minutes about how delighted he was, win or lose, just to be there with a decent shout in several races. We wished him the best of luck and he went on his way. It was Colin Tizzard.
 
My festival every year consists of having a mate round for the week, drinking and gambling like mad men. My mate has been out of work for a few months and got a call earlier this week asking him in for an interview next week.

He told them that he would be unable to attend as he was on a spiritual journey........
 
:lol:

I’ve had the ‘religious holiday’ excuse warmed-up for years. Never had to use it yet.
 
Love it Simmo.........way back in the old day the punting mad unions in the car factories in Coventry had only 2 words to say when Cheltenham was on......"EVERYBODY OUT" for as little as some manager swearing at someone...The good thing was the strikes only lasted 3 days back then..your friend may be on strike a bit longer :lol:
 
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