'Thanks to everyone for a night I'll remember for ever'.

Sunday, November 15 A Ruby anniversary in my life.

It is 40 years ago today when as a shy, slim, 24-year-old I ventured into Fleet Street for the first time to join The Sun's debut issue. I can remember it as though it was yesterday. The only problem is that I can't remember yesterday.

I can vividly picture Rupert Murdoch making a rallying speech. The atmosphere was electric. Huge piles of sandwiches and barrels of beer were on the editorial floor and we worked like beavers amid a crazy background to get the first paper out.

A quiet family Sunday roast lunch to celebrate 40 years, washed down with some lovely claret. I have given my wife Fiona a chocolate Labrador puppy called Pixie as a present for the occasion. They are going to obedience lessons this week. I should have sent the wife years ago. Already Pixie loves walking to my local, the Ewe & Lamb in Rolvenden Layne, a hamlet in deepest Kent.

Watching on TV the best sight of the whole afternoon is seeing Paul Stewart walking on crutches across the paddock at Cheltenham. The 28-year-old was told that he would never walk again after breaking his back in a freak snowboarding accident in the Alps last December.

Back in the summer paralysed Paul was in a wheelchair when he hosted a private box at Lord's for a one-day cricket international. To witness his raw courage is something to behold and makes all our daily lesser problems fade into insignificance.

Monday, November 16 My radio jangles into life every day at 6am - the daily morning call-up from Talksport's Alan Brazil and Ronnie Irani. Derek Thompson is back after his viral meningitis scare.

Good to hear old Tommo again. In the Like Him or Loathe Him Stakes, I'm with the former. Brazil has spotted my 40 years with The Sun and Tommo reminds him that in my Diary in Saturday's paper I revealed that his illness was caused by having to hand over pounds 20 live on TV for the Malton Appeal.

I drive retired commentator and 91-year-old veteran Cloudesley Marsham to Plumpton, where we are guests of Andy and Judy Stewart for the Afghanistan Appeal charity day. Somebody pays pounds 9,000 for an eightday tour of Afghanistan with Sandy Gall; I wasn't the underbidder. The function raises an amazing pounds 230,000.

The strange Afghanistan-style main course certainly proves a moving experience. Never again.

To the directors' box for master chef Sarah Sanders' superb tea-time catering. Marsham is introduced to Germany's top jumps trainer Baron Christian von der Recke. "I was once a guest in your country for two years," said Marsham. "Oh, yes. When was that?" asks the Baron. "From 1943 to 1945," grins Marsham.

I attempt to get Marsham away before the last race, but he has a pony on the 3-1 winner and we get stuck in the traffic. As he is getting paid out I chastise bookie John White: "You should be ashamed for taking bets from an under-age punter."

It's great to see recently retired trainer David Gandolfo at Plumpton. Why we should all call him Gandi I shall never know; I've never known anybody less likely to go on a hunger strike.

I catch up with two of Gandi's long-serving owners, Osbert 'Bert The Cert' Pierce and my old Fleet Street sparring partner Colin MacKenzie. I get all the latest Lambourn gossip from Henry Ponsonby.

Tuesday, November 17 A long drive to the award-winning Wheatsheaf Inn at Northleach in Gloucestershire to interview The Sun's new Templegate tipster, Steve Jones, who has been with the newspaper for four years. His father and grandfather were distinguished jockeys and his uncle Buck Jones, who recently retired as a trainer, was a former Ryan Price jockey.

I ring round all the trainers with runners in my race, the Claude Duval's 40 Years in The Sun Handicap at Lingfield tomorrow. Brett Johnson is by far the most positive about King's Colour.

Wednesday, November 18 The longest day. A party for 30 at Lingfield kindly hosted by Rod Street and Nick Attenborough of Racing For Change, via the BHA and Racing Enterprises Ltd, and all put together by Lingfield's lovely Kate Hills. It's uncanny because I have crucified most of racing's clueless, unselected bodies with IQs lower than the lime trees on my estate. But I am humbled, and my name appears in the Daily Mirror after 40 years. Joy unknown.

I am so proud to have two Kent and England cricketers present - Peter Richardson and current captain Robert Key - plus many of my former team-mates.

I chuckle when Richardson tells Key: "In my day, when I faced the might of Aussie fast bowlers Ray Lindwall and Keith Miller, I didn't go out to bat wearing a suit of armour!" A very happy lunch. King's Colour duly wins at 11-2 to round off a memorable event. I also select him as the best-turned-out beforehand, but his lass Vanessa Buckman tells me: "I don't know how on earth you picked him. He's such a monkey at home we can't get anywhere near him to smarten him up." Oops!

Sun racing editor Trevor Clements taps in more than 1,000 words with one finger on his blackberry mobile phone for a huge Sun article on a great day. He's a genius and all my Wapping colleagues have been invaluable in helping me reach this milestone.

It's then on to the Ritz Hotel Casino in Mayfair for a celebration dinner party for 20 special chums, brilliantly organised by 'Sir' Roger Easterby of the Tote and Cornelius Lysaght.

Only Andy Stewart, Clements, Sir Roger and myself are doubly engaged. It's great to see John McCririck winging in by just a few hours from America to attend, while John Maxse is back from Australia. How long before Maxse, currently out of work, is snapped up for a top racing job? I'll remember this night for ever and sitting next to my hero Sir Peter O'Sullevan simply adds to the immense pleasure.

A truly wonderful evening of magnificent food and wine, and my full thanks go to the Ritz Club Casino's Andrew Love and Tim Cullimore. Climbing into bed in a London hotel at 2am I remember Sir Peter's famous words after a similar long session in a Chantilly hotel: "It's nice to have an early night for a change."

Thursday, November 19 Recovering.

Friday, November 20 I write many thank-you letters and emails to everybody (I hope) who has made this a week to remember. The Sun has done me proud.

Catching Kauto Star's owner Clive Smith for an interview at his home before he dashes off to Haydock, I sense his nervousness. What must it be like to own a s1uperstar like him? I think I could live with it if I had won nearly pounds 2 million in prize-money.

I have a late Indian meal with my 20-year-old son James, who still dines out on the time he met Nicky Henderson at the quite fabulous Pheasant Inn at Lambourn. The fact that the Pheasant's owner has a gorgeous lady partner, who just happens to be PA to The Sun's editor, in no way clouds my judgement.

Saturday, November 21 A day at home to recharge the batteries after a very hectic week out in the battlefield.

I never miss The Morrng Line. John Francome and Alastair Down are priceless and Tanya Stevenson is an obvious improver before the cameras. But why have they shunted John McCririck, their top player, off the majority of programmes? It's like Sir Alex Ferguson dropping Wayne Rooney because he is too popular and scoring too many goals. It must be the most stupid TV sports programme decision for years.

Excellent TV coverage from Haydock and Ascot. "He needed it" must have been very welcome words to Paul Nicholls from Ruby Walsh after Kauto Star had got home by a nose in the Betfair Chase. I'll drink to that, but spare a thought for Nigel Twiston-Davies and connections of Imperial Commander. They must have been gutted.

CAPTION(S):

Claude Duval: had a race at Lingfield named in his honour to celebrate his milestone