TRAINER and Tellytrack presenter, Paul Lafferty reviews the buildup to the 2006 Vodacom Durban July for mikedekockracing,com.
The excitement surrounding this years Vodacom July has been building up like Clyde Basel’s appetite,after running the comrades marathon, as punters and racegoers start deliberating the merits of this years runners. Again objections have been aired, rather vocally in some cases, about the final field for the showpiece at Greyville.
The much maligned panel had tried to do their collective best, but one gets the feeling that they have missed the plot with regard to the younger horses, and the discretionary proviso needs tweeking. Formless horses and ageing steeds are about as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike, when one considers turnover and the possibilty of winning. I suppose these controversies add to the spice and aura that surrounds this great race.
A lavish spread was put on for the final field announcement and the lack of representation by the trainers and jockeys was all too evident. One trainer turned up and two jockeys were there, even though one was off like a dirty shirt, before the hors de oeuvres got cold.
As is the norm, the final public gallops are on the Thursday, nine days before the race. I drive down quite early with my colleague Andrew Bon. I am in my stable car, the tupperware Ferrari with cellulite, courtesy of the hail damage inflicted a week earlier. My unstable car, I sold to an unsuspecting Indian Chino’s salesman from downtown Verulam near the spice factory. The car once clocked two hundred clicks, but that was over a cliff.
We are late so we go down as fast as an Italian footballer. If you put the airconditioning on some pantechnicons can pass you. The customary buns and coffee are always as welcome a Mandela photo shoot. Most of the horses are put through their paces, some sans companions and all the “shrewdies” voice their opinions. I hear one popular bookmaker comment rather harshly, “if either Candy Critic or Eyeofthetiger wins I will do my maximum.”
To the uninitiated this literally means that he is going to hope that should either of these get beat, he will be taking the whole of the family on an extended holiday to some exotic location……..twice, and should one of them win he will break square and only go away for two weeks, sans the inlaws.
Another wag leans over and says “Larrity how’s yourself? Whats your hissing for the July?”. This translated means hello Mr Lafferty, who do you think will win the Vodacom Durban July. I shrug my shoulders noncommitedly, which he takes as the cue to pursue the conversation.
“My hissing is Marcus’s orse, {sic} but you never know with these rogues” I catch Tubby Luckan’s eye and move off to talk with him. His first comment to me is as vague as the stare of a dumping dog. The fact that he had three quarters of a Chelsea bun in his mouth might have distorted his comments. The slurp of scolding coffee just adds to his angst and my amusement.
Ricco Maingard walks past as if he is off to the gallows and looks more preoccupied than an innocent muslim at Guantannemo. He looks as if one of his daughters has just proposed to the local Nigerian drug dealer. Tubby has managed to get his saliva glands working again and is gently exploring the extent of third degree burns on the roof of his mouth, with his tongue. He desperately needs to assuage the Chernobyl effect that has irradiated his scorched north and south.
Most of the horses that are on display look well and are put through their paces. The general concensus is that Forked Lightening, Candy Critic,and Money Bags have not covered themselves in glory and that a lot more will be needed for them to feature.
My Indian friend is back at my shoulder and states, with a surprising degree of accuracy ” Ow {sic} do you know what the hissing jockeys are carrying…these rogues could be manipulating the hissing”
I go around to the parade ring and see a group of our leading riders huddled together having a chat. It looks like the beginning of a hobbit’s convention. They are, surprise, surprise, discussing finances to see who has the most cash. It seems as if Jeff Lloyd is just shading Anton Marcus. Beyond the pursuit of money, there is not much they discuss. Infidelity is a distant second.
The usual Sangoma “Chuck em Bonesi” will not be here as he has had a car accident…….so much for seeing into the future.
I spot a rejuvenated Harvey Samuels striding by purposefully with a new Phil Georgio Armani jacket on. He enquires as to when the gallops will take place. He is later than Tubby’s Indian grandfather.
To find the winner to this years race is no easy task. The three year olds have a lot of pudding to shoulder while the older horses are possibly just off the top. I spot Tubby Luckan getting into the horse ambulance, the only one big enough to take him to the EB Pillay Memorial Hospital in Cato Manor, severe burns department.
I am going to back Eurovision this year as the pace will be as hot as a roti from Chip In Ranch.
Hasta Luego muchachos!
