Tom Roper's Weblog

No sign of ability

That phrase was not taken from one of my school reports; look to your right in the side bar under testimonials for that. Instead, it came from the race card for yesterday's Sussex National Meeting at Plumpton, which I attended with my daughter. It was the compiler's judgement on Arctic Flow in the last race, the Hugh Taylor Handicap Hurdle. Arctic Flow won, convincingly, at a price of 40/1.

Though not very satisfactory from a betting point of view, it was a day that demonstrated how jumps racing in winter is the highest form of the sport. The sun shone, there was a large and appreciative crowd, the champion jockey and Sports Personality of the Year was present and won three races. What more could one ask?

Though only of archival interest, let me record our selections, and the results:

140 attheraces.com E B F National Hunt Novices Qualifier: Mister Hyde (self); Invictus (darling daughter). Winner: Mr Hyde. Hurrah. First blood to Daddy

210 attheraces.com Sussex National: Noble Bily (self); Marty's Mission (darling daughter). We thought Master Overseer, without a run since a victory in the same race a year ago, would not make it, but he fought hard. Neither of ours finished, but only half the field did. Winner: Minella Boys

245 attheraces.com Be a Virtual Owner Handicap Hurdle: Black Phantom (self; looked impressive in paddock); Diamond Eclipse (darling daughter). Winner: Manshoor, AP's second for the afternoon

315 attheraces.com Virgin 534 Handicap Chase: The Hardy Boy (the choice of us both; we had seen him win here in the same race four years ago). Winner: Manmoon

345 attheraces.com Exclusive Hugh Taylor Handicap Hurdle: Tocatchaprince (self); Snow Patrol (darling daughter). Winner: Arctic Flow, as you know

NB we arrived late, so missed the first two races

On tea-making

An article by Christopher Hitchens on tea-making has attracted some attention, with the writer's customary reference to Eric Blair, aka George Orwell, novelist and police informer.

I bet neither Hitchens nor Orwell had the Wolf Cub's second star,  which I won in an unhappy time in Lord Baden-Powell's militaristic organisation. To earn this, I had inter alia to make a pot of tea, which I did under the stern eye of Mrs Langford, who 'did' for my mother in the afternoons. Mrs L 'signed off' my effort, as we didn't say in the early 1960s, though I don't remember her actually drinking it. But I do remember the three commandments of the British tea ceremony:

1. Take pot to kettle
2. Warm pot
3. Use a teaspoon of tea per person, and one for the pot

The Wolf Cubs wisely stayed away from the milk-in-first/afterwards controversy, on which Lord B-P left no instructions.