HAPPY DAYS; How an old favourite helped friends reunited.
That's the question I was recently asked. The names didn't stop rolling off the tongue - Westmead Hawk, Trixies Wish, Jolly Joker, Shelbourne Star, Bunmahon Mac, Hawkfield Wind, Run Freddie, Ballinlough Hill, Parquet Pal, Summerhill Joy, Pearls Girl, Annies Bullet, No Can Waltz, Strideaway Teddy, Pinewood Blue, Palace Issue, Noirs Seanie. I could go on, and on . . .
Tonight is the fourth anniversary of Noirs Seanie making 15 occupants of the Wimbledon restaurant extremely happy. On Saturday, March 19, 2005, I held a reunion at Wimbledon. Ten had never been dog racing. The other four were hardened gamblers.
When the Racing Post expert is hosting three tables, people expect winners. That puts you under more pressure to achieve than Barack Obama. I told everyone to have just one bet and pile on nap,
Noirs Seanie, in the A1. Noirs Seanie was 2-1. Messrs White, Morris, Nash, Hall and Reed came under simultaneous attack. I'd invested pounds 300, but the pressure was enormous - it felt like pounds 3,000.
Come on Seanie. Come on Seanie. The noise intensified as he hit the front at halfway. The following 14 seconds were among the longest of my life, but he held on. Meal paid for. Everyone ecstatic. My pal Seanie.