A Day at the Races

Despite our aweful colds, Bret and I got gussied up yesterday morning (actually, Bret just put on a tie) and met up with a few of our friends to enjoy Northumberland Plate Day, the biggest race day in Newcastle.

I was surprised by how many people were at the races! The place was insane. There were groups of burly men eager to place their bets, crazy young 'hens' enjoying a day out with their girls, and groups of older ladies with far too much wrinkly cleavage spilling out of their chiffon floral dresses (as I took note yesterday, there is indeed an expiration date on breasts. and arms, and stomach for that matter).

Anyway, while I had on my very stylish coral bolero, I was very chilly because, despite being almost July, it was 60, windy, and cloudy. I shivered my way through the crowds and over to the bookies. I learned that there would be 6 races, and I had already decided that I would spend no more than 20 pounds on bets, so I was in no rush to place my bet. For the first race, most of us just watched to see if our horse predictions came true. At about 2:00, the horses came parading through the track. They were gorgeous- lean, muscular, and shiny. At 2:10, the first race began, and the horses sped along the track. From a distance, we could only see a mass moving steadily towards us. The crowds around us cheered fiercely. As the horses came closer, we noticed they were moving at about 30 miles per hour and being whipped strongly by the jockeys. It was exhilarating, so for the next race, we decided to begin betting.

I placed my bets on a horse that had good odds, I think his name was Joseph Henry. I put down 5 pounds each way, so that if he placed, I would get a bit of money back. Bret chose to bet on a horse called 'Burning Incence' because he liked the name. We decided to go right up to the track for this second race. Finally, the horses came parading through. My horse was running with his tongue hanging out and was foaming in the mouth. I took this to be a bad sign. Bret's horse looked good, despite his poor odds. When the gates opened, the horses shot out towards the track. We shouted for our horses, but sadly, neither of us won. We didn't even place! But there were 4 more chances, and I for one, had quite a bit more 'poundage' to spend.

So the third race was the big 2 miler. I eagerly placed my bets on another horse with great odds. We met up with our party and sat in the bleachers. Each of us bet on a different horse, so we figured one of us was bound to win something. But there were 22 horses and only 6 of us, so really, this was really just wishful thinking. As it turns out, my horse 'Desert Sea' which I had been tipped about on the bus came in third to last place. I began to feel like the bookies were riggging the races.

But what Norris told me was that in 'handicap' races, they handicap the best horse by adding weights so that it's a more even playing field. Confused by this whole process I decided to take a different approach. I would bet on the least likely horse. That way, if it won, I would get a huge return.

However, my horse, once again, was one of the lazy ones in the back. By this point, Bret had a terrible headache, I was still dazed from all my cold medicine, and we were losing miserably. Rather than brave the cold for another hour, we decided to say farewell to our friends and call it a day. It was exciting, the Pimms and Lemonade was delicious, but we needed our rest. We hopped into a cab and nappped it out back in Breamish Street.