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June 11, 2005

And They're Off! (or how to lose money at the races)

Sunday morning of last I was enjoying a well earned lie in after the previous nights debauchery in Coffey’s. Yet at 1pm my sleep was broken by the rather loud arrival of a text message from Hank “lock up your daughters” Tree. “Are you coming today?” The message referred to the Battle of the Bands that was starting at 2pm at the Curragh races. This column’s house band $chmackey and the Salads were going to be playing. I briefly considered the notion of going but then decided that it would be best for all concerned (but mainly me) if I stayed in bed. So I sent my reply: “Probably not.” The “probably” eases the answer somewhat. I returned to my slumber only to be woken again a minute later by another Hank Tree text. “You have to come. I need a drinking/smoking/betting buddy.” And there it was. The line that would seal my fate for the rest of the day.

This left me with one hour to get from my bed to the Curragh Races. The Salads would be on at two o’clock so I’d have to be on time too. Of course as a great many deal of people have experienced first hand - Liam Geraghty is never on time. Eternally late, in fact. So I employ my usual tactic of texting Hank messages like “I’m nearly there” when in fact I’m only stepping into the shower. With only an hour to spare there’s almost too much to do. First of all there’s breakfast and that my friends is a meal I take very seriously. Then there’s getting dressed. I’ve rarely been to the races. I’m unfamiliar with the dress code. I first don my most exquisite suit that has only ever been worn on two other occasions but I quickly change my mind to something more casual. Blazer. Jeans. Converse. Ideal. I search the house for a pair of binoculars but to no avail. After all that it’s a mad dash across the Curragh plains until finally the racecourse is in sight.

Outside I meet Newbridge’s coolest couple - Mary Ann and Neil of the Jazz Catz who are also on their way to see the Salads. Inside the bands are about to begin. Hank Tree, the Salad’s bassist, looks worried. I’m guessing he hasn’t had his usual pre-emptive glass of vodka before the gig. After the Salads play, me and Hank depart in favour of some of the aforementioned drinking, smoking and gambling. So there we are sitting on a bench that’s sponsored by “WOODIES DIY” with a glass of Jameson in one hand and a cigarette in the other. The brass band beside us are playing “New York, New York” and we’ve had an insider tip on a horse in the next race. Life is good. But from that moment everything spirals out of control. Inadvertently, I’ve placed my digital camera on the ground while we’re sitting on the bench but I won’t actually realise this for at least two hours. Our insider tip comes last.

I regain a little hope in the next race when Hank says that number three, “Eldorado” is a certainty to win. I don’t question this and go and place twenty euro on the horse who will come fifth. The rest of the day will see us attempt to win back the money we lose in the previous race only to have our horse come in fifth every lousy time. I wish I had stayed in bed.

Trains, Buses & Automobiles by Liam Geraghty appears every week in the Kildare Nationalist.

Posted by LiamG at June 11, 2005 01:34 AM