Some five or six weeks ago BC (before Cheltenham), some overpaid, underthinking Socialist adviser to Rachel Reeves, thought it would be clever to badmouth an industry in its entirety, in favour of her own.

She was apparently Labour’s entrepreneurship tsar (such a good word for those whom the people deem unnecessary), and she said that Britain does not “need any more restaurants”. Alex Depledge, a tech entrepreneur who was appointed by Rachel Reeves last year, said the Government’s focus should be on “growth” sectors like tech rather than hospitality and retail. This is from someone who loves to go out every Thursday night with her husband on a “Date night”, so that her psyche and mental well-being remain normal. They probably like going to the latest restaurants too…

Doctors want more time off, and Nurses want time to be with their families. Policemen and Ambulance drivers aren't that keen on weekends, and many people aren’t that keen on working at all. However, the coffee shops remain full, the restaurants keep trying to survive, and the pubs keep trying to pay their bills - and they’re all open when everyone else wants to relax. They’re open mostly because young, often gregarious people are happy to help, despite being constantly told it is a job for “other people.”

Few busy restaurants employ less than 50 people, and a country pub could be taking as much as £10k a week with food. Many employ young, smart, personable, keen people to manage operations, which means that you can often find a 25-year-old, regardless of sex, ethnicity, religion, or sexual orientation, managing a million-pound-a-year business and looking after 50-plus staff.

No, you’re right, Alex. We only want tech entrepreneurs who can deliver real growth to this country, employ artificial intelligence to lower the need for people, and then distribute their wealth to their local community by going out on Date Nights with their husbands… where?

Sometimes I almost see the point of bolshinstvo.

Support your local pub or restaurant at least once this coming fortnight - it really would cheer them up - and you’d feel better too.

Talking of being hung out to dry, here are my tips for Day 2 of Aintree

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The latest construction data paints a stark and sobering picture of a housing sector in freefall. Despite the lofty rhetoric of a “building revolution,” the reality on the ground is one of systemic decline, stalling projects, and an alarming reliance on foreign materials to patch the holes in a crumbling domestic industry.

The fundamental building blocks of the industry -

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When one mentions The Masters in the USA, there is a visible shifting of attentiveness. I knew someone who went once as a guest of the Club - I don’t know what (or who) he’d done, but he went. He told me it was arguably the most prestigious and tradition-soaked event in any sport he’d ever witnessed - with lavish and generous hospitality and the cheapest sarnies he’s ever bought anywhere.

I remember thinking at the time that the three or four people who were listening to this, were suddenly talking in lowered voices as though we were discussing the discovery of the Holy Grail,

It is the first of golf’s four “majors”, and the only one played at the same location every year: Augusta National Golf Club in Georgia. In two days' time, the entire golfing world will be fully focused there until Sunday. Augusta National was founded by the legendary Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts on the site of an old indigo plantation and plant nursery. This is why every hole is named after a flower or tree (like Azalea or Magnolia). It is famous for its “impossible” perfection—fluorescent green grass, bright white sand, and blooming flowers.

Even for America, which this year will be almost as old as my first flat in Ealing, it’s incredibly old-school. No cell phones are allowed on the course, and you won’t see a single piece of branded trash; even the sandwich wrappers are green, so they don’t stand out on TV.

Amongst the many traditions, there are a few which surely everyone is aware of. Since 1949, the winner has been awarded a green club jacket. They get to keep it for one year, but then it must return to the club forever, as it can only be worn inside the clubhouse. Held on the Tuesday of Masters week, the defending champion (this year, Rory McIlroy, who finally completed his Career Grand Slam in 2025) hosts a private dinner for all past winners and chooses the entire menu.

Rory’s menu is:

Appetizers

Peach and ricotta flatbread with balsamic, hot honey, basil - Rock shrimp tempura with creamy spicy sauce - Bacon-wrapped dates with goat cheese, almonds - Grilled elk sliders with caramelised onion jam, roasted garlic aoli

First Course

Yellowfin tuna carpaccio with foie gras, toasted baguette, chives

Main Course

Wagyu filet mignon or seared salmon with traditional Irish Champ, sauteed Brussels sprouts, glazed carrots with brown butter, crispy Vidalia onion rings

Dessert

Sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream and warm toffee sauce

Wines

Salon Cuvee “S” brut

2022 Domaine Laflaive Batard-Montrachet

1990 Château Lafite Rothschild

1989 Château d’Yquem

All that aside, and despite being the most exclusive ticket in sports, the food is famously cheap. You can still get their signature Pimento Cheese or Egg Salad sandwich for about $1.50.

Keep an eye out for Amen Corner, which refers to the 11th, 12th, and 13th holes. It’s where the tournament is usually won or lost, often involving high-stakes shots over Rae’s Creek. You will also see Magnolia Lane, the world-famous driveway lined with 60 massive magnolia trees that leads to the clubhouse, and of course, there is Butler Cabin, where the green jacket ceremony is televised immediately after the final putt.

Last year’s Masters

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Another profitable Saturday, and please God, this heralds the start of a fab week at Aintree and another at Augusta. So far, and it’s only Tuesday, I have had five Master’s Sweepstake opportunities offered to me - I fear I’m giving people entirely the wrong impression about me!

So tonight or tomorrow, I shall give you Day 1 of Aintree and my selections for the Masters. Then Day 2 on Thursday and The Grand National on Friday/Saturday. I’m also expecting some F1 news, which I’m waiting to have confirmed, and a whispered defection which will set a few tongues wagging.

Until then, I shall remain deeply angry at the lies we are being told, surrounding the looming energy crisis.

The famous quotation about the certainty of death and taxes is often ascribed to Benjamin Franklin in 1789. In point of fact, it was first iterated in 1716 in the book The Cobbler of Preston by Christopher Bullock, and again, after him, by Daniel Defoe in his book The Political History of the Devil in 1726. I shall use Defoe’s version as his version, and the source lies at the very heart of this.

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“Things as certain as death and taxes, can be more firmly believ’d, Defoe stated in his book, which suggested in a highly Puritanical format that the Devil is a shape-shifting manipulator of men and circumstance to suit his worst outcomes, and that politics was his simultaneous play- and battle-ground. It is hard not to see the Devil at work in the enormous trick which is being played on the nation, because, like all good cons, part of it is true. Yes, if everyone in the world uses fossil fuels for all eternity, or until there is simply no more left, the impact damage will, in all likelihood, be unsustainable in life-support terms. I get it.

And if you’re an environmental puritan, you might very well decide that the ONLY WAY to stop this is for the UK’s official energy policy to achieve net zero by 2050 by rapidly shifting to clean, domestically produced energy while maintaining security, affordability, and economic growth. But it simply cannot happen, and we are being lied to every day.

The real problem is that it suits the Government to portray any questioners and naysayers as evil disbelievers. Because if - as I have done for over 20 years - anyone questions the Net Zero ideology, they are anti-environment and right-wing thugs who would see the world burn before they give up a single lightbulb.

What absolute tosh. It isn’t that alternative energy solutions are “evil” - Wind and solar are perfectly fine technologies. The problem is the UK’s massive engineering and accounting fraud, which is being perpetrated on the British public.

It’s my fear that the current energy strategy is a recipe for national bankruptcy.

The first element is the “Ghost Power” scandal - where Miliband has gone on a building spree, approving massive solar and wind farms across the countryside. On paper, they claim these will provide “X” Gigawatts of clean power. But in reality, the National Grid is full. It’s an old, narrow pipe trying to handle a massive firehose of new electricity. If we simply “plugged in” every new wind- and solar-farm company, the grid would literally melt. To prevent this, the government (using our money) pays these companies “Constraint Payments”—billions of pounds a year to stay switched off. Now, even if you don’t know the precise figures and every detail of every transaction, simply ask yourself - or them - how can they afford to not produce power and pay the farmer from whom they are leasing the land up to six times their normal agricultural income.

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In effect, we are building a power station we can’t use and paying the owner not to work. No business in the world would survive this model. Now, on top of this, we also have to provide a backup power source for when the wind doesn't blow and the sun doesn’t shine. This power source has to be able to meet all needs, not just a lightbulb at midday, which is known as baseload power. We have been promised that Small Modular Reactors (mini-nuclear) will fulfil that role in the near future. But right now in 2026, they won’t be operational for 10 to 15 years. That means - and this is a fact - that between now and 2040, we have a massive “Black Hole” in our energy supply. The grid won’t expand fast enough, and the nuclear plant isn’t ready.

However, HMG has a trick up its sleeve. Whilst it is busy shutting down domestic gas and oil production, and to keep the lights on (and to keep the government in power), we still need gas turbines. But because we have stopped supporting our own North Sea production, we have to import Liquefied Natural Gas (LNG) from thousands of miles away. This imported gas is “dirtier” because of the energy used to freeze it and ship it. We are burning our own cash to buy someone else’s gas, while our own—which is cleaner and already there—sits under the seabed.

This is the ultimate business failure. And this is where one of the biggest PR deceptions comes into play. The argument is that even if we drilled and produced, it wouldn’t meet our needs or reduce imports. Both those statements are true, but they deliberately obfuscate the facts and distort the truth.

The UK produces Brent Crude, which is one of the best, purest, cleanest oils in the world. It is the “Gold Standard” of oil. What we consume, run our planes on, and heat our houses with is something else entirely - and we don’t produce any. Brent Crude is highly valuable on the global market. Logically, we should be pumping that “Gold” and selling it to the world. The massive profits and taxes (75%) from those exports should be the “Venture Capital” that pays for the new grid and the new nuclear plants. But by killing off our own production, we lose the export income. We then have to use what’s left of our money to buy back car petrol, heating oil, and aviation fuel at a massive premium.

The government is pretending this transition will be seamless. We are building “Ghost” wind and solar farms that stay off. We are waiting 15 years for nuclear power, which isn’t here yet. We are buying “Dirty” gas from foreigners while our own stays in the ground. We are throwing away the “Gold” (Brent Crude) that could have covered the entire transition.

In effect, what we have allowed to happen is for the current board of UK PLC to fire its best salesmen, stop its most profitable production line, and pay its new contractors to sit at home—all while claiming the company has never been more successful.

It isn’t just bad politics; it’s a strategic disaster founded entirely on the worldview of Miliband and his acolytes. A worldview that is less a philosophy and more a collection of unverifiable prejudices masquerading as moral imperatives. It’s nothing more than pious grandstanding used to justify indefensible logic - and they are killing our country.

There are only three things certain in life - death, taxes and the arrogant stupidity of a Socialist.

I get so bamboozled these days by whether we are officially in Europe or Out.

If we are out of Europe, then we can’t eat Foie Gras - in which case, hundreds of Greens, PETAs, and Tree-huggers are thrilled but think we should be in Europe. However, if we are in Europe, then we have to eat Foie Gras and import veal in crates whilst drinking hares’ milk or somesuch, in which case everyone who hates the stuff - people who don’t like the 2001 Château d’Yquem perhaps or the 2000 Château Suduiraut with a bit of liver on toast, wants to leave. I think.

I only know this because today’s Grauniad told me the UK government is forgetting its manifesto pledge to ban foie gras imports (and has declined to stop fur imports), after the EU made these red lines in its discussions for a trade deal - which would be Step 1 in the long and very expensive road back into Macron’s bed. The whisper is that the UK was ready to drop the foie gras import ban, as there were other, higher-priority sticking points, such as precision breeding of crops. Ministers say that is more likely to boost the economy than banning imports of foie gras and fur.

Luckily, I have the last few jars either way… I’ll wait for a freezing day so I don’t have to buy any of Milliband’s grossly expensive electricity for my fridge, plunge the Sauternes into a bucket of snow, and wear my fox-skin coat, whilst eating foie gras and singing the Marseillaise!.

Well, you wouldn’t want a chap to starve.

Talking of starving, a tiny profit yesterday - barely enough for a chicken liver parfait stuffed mushroom on toast! Better luck today!

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Huge crowds in Lambourn, and so good to see my old chum PBN fully recovered from the ghastly C and considerably more sprightly than myself. Good to see the huge affection that CONSTITUTION HILL is held in, and Tommo, who helped do the commentary, and Alice Plunket, who fought out a tie in the show-jumping against AP, and the Shetland Grand National team and and and… The day was relentless, the sun almost came out permanently, the rain almost stayed away entirely, Charlie Mann’s birthday in his Chinese Tent disguised as a Newcastle FC changing room was heaving, as was the more expensive Beer Tent. It was a day for running out of superlatives and breath, and the work of the LOD Supremo Mark Smyly cannot be overestimated and under-praised. When I know, I’ll let you know how much the team raised, all to make sure the air ambulance can afford to fly and that the stable lads and staff who keep the whole Lambourn show on the road have an affordable roof over their heads.

Huzzahs all round.

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No Tips for today because it is Good Friday, and I am old-fashioned enough to believe you have to keep at least two days free from the demands of bookies. Once, when He was born, and once, when He died, would seem the scant minimum; sadly, that is no longer the case.

As such, Easter is always a good time to consider new beginnings. Should I perhaps revisit my childhood vocational callings to the priesthood? Should I perhaps continue my newly awakened interest in building the perfect horse-race ratings machine? Should I refocus my efforts on recruiting former special forces pensioners and turning them into the Boyds Own Punishment Squad? (Death on a Zimmer! was one suggested tagline from Bob, the only recruit so far, who sadly passed away choking on a caperberry in a Caesar Salad. Shoot the Chef, he begged me. … capers in a ferkin Caes’ … and then he was gone.)

This dangerous mood of introspection was lightened enormously by the arrival of a brace of beautiful women - a mother-and-daughter combo - who insisted we step out immediately to The Queen Arms in East Garston for supper. Jolly company, decent food and strangely warm, as we sat in the back garden room, which is heated by ceramic wall heaters. Having discussed Artemis, which launch had moved them all, the girls opined that sitting under these heaters was potentially hazardous to one’s health and that one’s skin might dry out or worse, crisp up! Perhaps, one suggested, during the second bottle of Viognier after her Guinness, this was how NASA trained for Mars. Sitting under Ceramic heaters frying one’s skin whilst getting quietly tontoed on plonk. It’s moments like that when one wonders whether the whole designated driver thing is working.

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I feel overwhelmed by this week… maybe it’s the impending excitement of Lambourn Open Day, Saturday drinks, and the Lockinge Old Berks Point-to-Point. Maybe it’s the idea that I might actually get to church on Sunday and have a prayer for lost chums.

It couldn’t possibly be the news… could it? This week I have been struck, bewildered, ghasted, bemused, OMGd by:

• There are now at least three films and TV series in production where the most powerful man in the world is actually a deep-cover Russian Agent, who is so corrupt, venal and blackmailable that he is now in place running the country. How preposterous. That would sort of imply that the only political figure, country, and economy to have benefited from every move Trump has made is Putin, Russia, and Russia. Stupid.

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• Thousands of people can watch or take part in a riot and looting in Clapham, indeed film it and place the films like so many bloodied scalps hung on their Instagram totem pole. Hundreds of police are seemingly incapable of doing anything, either on the grounds of Health and Safety or because …. and yet bizarrely many still think the rioting, mass looting, and terrorising of ordinary people in the street, is unconnected to the use of the mobile phone and was not a flash mob organised via social media on anarchic political grounds.

• Trading and owning Bitcoin might have made hundreds of jeunesse multi-zillionaires by trading Ethereum and Bitcoin from their bedrooms before flying out to Dubai for a bar of chocolate, but they should be warned. That nice, safe, unbreakable crypto-wallet is apparently much closer to being hacked than they might think. Google’s Quantum AI team released a whitepaper challenging previous security assumptions. They have found that breaking the encryption of Bitcoin and Ethereum requires far less power than expected—roughly 1,400 high-quality qubits rather than millions —and that this capability will be here by 2029! The vulnerability exists on the blockchain, specifically affecting wallets where public keys are visible (including 6.9 million BTC in older or “Taproot” enabled wallets). The discovery was prompted by the Taproot upgrade, which inadvertently made public keys more visible. Google is urging the industry to accelerate its transition to post-quantum cryptography to prevent future theft. Yeah, I do care… really!

• To keep the Strait of Hormuz open, apparently, we have to rejoin the EU. To make our Navy viable, we have to rejoin the EU??

• The Department for the Eradication of Farming and Rural Activities has now introduced a universal recycling standard to end the “postcode lottery,” ensuring that every council collects the same materials, or not. Households will now use up to four separate bins for food/garden waste, paper/card, dry recyclables (glass, metal, plastic), and general rubbish. Misusing your bins can result in a fixed penalty fine of up to £400. The government has flagged 37 specific items that are prohibited from standard recycling bins.

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  The colour of the bins may still vary by area! But these are NOT TO BE PUT IN A BIN

  Glass: No Pyrex, mirrors, light bulbs, window glass, or drinking glasses.

  Metal: No cutlery, pots/pans, kettles, irons, or foil pouches (like pet food).

  Plastic: No “compostable/biodegradable” plastics, toys, garden furniture, or polystyrene.

  Paper/Card: No padded envelopes, nappies, wet wipes, or used tissue/toilet paper.

  Food/Garden: No tea bags, coffee grounds, animal bedding, or large tree branches.

  What you should do if you have any of these - your morning tea bag, for example - is to make an appointment to take them to your local tips (HWRCs) together with proof of address and ID cards. Inevitably, this will lead to more roadside dumping.

• Fly-tipping is such an innocuous phrase - but its impact is devastating. Varieties of political numbskulls have watched as Councils shut recycling centres, environmentalists castigated landfill sites, greens spoke about managing waste, and 500+ people who called themselves representatives of the people passed legislation making it increasingly difficult to move rubbish, and the result…..? Read THIS GUARDIAN report, which seemed very clear.

• We have all been told and are worryingly aware of the huge issues with microplastics and the contamination crisis we’re all facing as the deadly specks infiltrate every aspect of the natural world, from the furthest, deepest, coldest, remotest regions up in the sky to the innermost workings of our own gut flora and fauna… bollocks. It might, in fact, all be coming from the scientists’ rubber gloves, who are doing the measuring! Early days and perhaps too soon for a big deep breath of plastic, but hey, it’s less scary than it was two minutes ago.

• Talking of public Health and being scared - do you remember Covid? Well, the NHS has issued a new warning about the new variant in town, nicknamed Cicada, also known as BA. 32 (sounds like a cancelled flight you missed). Luckily (?) it turns out the symptoms are the same… phew, thank heavens for the NHS newsflow! No need to do anything other than the normal.

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Delicious supper last minute last night - very rough and ready

MIDDLE EASTERN BURGERS IN PITTA

• 500gm 5% decent beef mince

• Big handful (30 gms?) of fresh flat-leaf parsley or coriander, finely chopped

• 30 gms onion, very finely minced

• 1 large egg

• 1 1/2 teaspoons cumin

• 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (more or less to taste)

• 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika

• 1/4 teaspoon turmeric

• 1/2 teaspoon salt (more or less to taste)

• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper (more or less to taste)

• 1 slice of white bread soaked in olive oil and torn up.

  • You could use one of the Barts or similar spice mixes, such as Baharat or Zaatar, instead of the dried spice ingredients above. Slightly easier…

1. Everything in a big mixing bowl. Scrunch up properly - get your hands in.

2. Form into about 6-8 flattish sausage shapes or 4 burger-shaped patties and either grill or fry

3. Pittas in toaster - take out when still soft and hot.

4. Put meat into a pitta with sliced tomato, lettuce, cucumber, green peppers, and lemon juice. Season.

   1. I actually had mine with home-made coleslaw. (grate carrot, very thinly slice white cabbage, thinly sliced red onion, salt, pepper, lemon juice, jarred mayonnaise 50/50 with Greek yoghurt; use hands to mix)

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Every April, the golf calendar shifts its focus toward Augusta, Georgia - but the road to the Masters runs directly through San Antonio and The Valero Texas Open. This final pre-Masters competition - still with $9+m prize money - serves as a prep race for some, a last-ditch qualifier for others and simply some bread on the table for the Augusta DNQs.

Those who have their tickets might decide to simply head down to Georgia and get their heads straight… Nicolai Højgaard and Daniel Berger have opted for a week of rest, and Collin Morikawa was forced to withdraw Tuesday due to lingering back spasms—but that said, the Texas Open field still has some heavy hitters like Tommy Fleetwood, Ludvig Åberg, and Jordan Spieth lining up.

The TPC San Antonio (The Oaks Course) was designed by Greg Norman, with Sergio Garcia as the player consultant, and is notorious as one of the most punishing stops on the PGA Tour. A Par 72 stretching to 7,438 yards, it’s a gruelling test of precision with incredibly narrow fairways (averaging just 25–30 yards wide) framed by dense stands of live oaks and rocky areas that make Dartmoor remind one of Croquet. The old apocryphal story was that Norman was having a few “personal issues” and took it out on the course during the design phase, allegedly declaring, “I’m not going to be the only miserable bastard playing golf!”

The result is a course with a 76.5 rating and a 148 slope, featuring deep bunkers (including the famous one in the middle of the 16th green) and firm, fast surfaces. There are four Par 5s that are statistically among the toughest “four-pack” on Tour. While they offer scoring chances, the 600+ yard monsters (like the 2nd and 8th) can just as easily ruin a scorecard. All of that, of course, is before you take into account the Texas Wind. When it blows, winning scores can plummet; last year, Brian Harman took the title at just 9-under par. This year, the weather looks volatile, with gusts up to 25 MPH and a constant threat of thundershowers. We won last week with a 100/1+ winner, and fingers crossed, we’re heading down Winners Avenue again!

EIGHT AGAINST THE FIELD

Boylesports, Ladbrokes and Coral are going 10 places, with the corresponding impact on value; many are going 6 places… yer pays yer money an’ yer takes yer choice!

I shall remain wedded to Betfair, as I simply cannot work out what a tied 5th bet pays when there are six finishes and two of them are left-handed, and one is a Swede!

I feel a surprise coming on - a weekend for wild shots!

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If only the grounds of vulgarity, I have to apologise for talking about the financial aspect of our relationship. It always sounds a bit needy - a tiny hint of Peter Pan crowing to the Pirates (if one were being a tad whimsical); or perhaps poor Pip’s Mr Pumblechook, forever taking credit on the slightest happenstance.

Perhaps also I am fearful of tempting fate, but the truth of the matter is that we have arrived at the beginning of April…

…and I don’t appear to have cost you a penny!

Sorry, that was rude of me, but it is true and much like Lawrence in the mess, telling the chaps that he’s taken Aqaba… “Cross my heart and hope to die, it’s all perfectly true.”

Our Golf for the year is up over 100 points; our racing is up overall, but with a few rocky moments, and our F1 hasn’t really got going yet. On Saturday, for example, we covered the Dubai World Cup, the start of the Flat season at Donny, backed some runners at Kempton, the motor racing at Suzuka and still managed to show a small profit.

If you look back at any post, we always try to include a P&L footnote, so that we can all step back with a smile - or a sneer.

In other words, taking out a small annual subscription to Boyd’s Own Paper is more profitable than picking a war with Iran - unless you’re shorting the market 15 minutes before you talk about it, but then that’s a privilege of absolute power corrupting absolutely!

So, with Aintree coming up, don’t you think you should take out a subscription?

A strange weekend is in store. The beginning of the flat season, with rockets perhaps whistling over the Dubai World Cup; the Japanese F1 with more pre-race noise than usual; and then no more F1 for over a month - why; and the clocks go forward, which always confuses me and seems so pointless. But overarching all this, and ghasting my flabber, was reading that not only is the man who made London the most horrible place to live of any major city in the World going to become Lord Pharisaical of Supercilious-upon-Smug, but that The Harmer has now appointed more Lords than the last four Tory PMs combined.

That particular Khanage is designed to keep Sneaky Sadiqy quiet, post-May Disaster Day - but will apparently also come with a Cabinet position; “… he is simply too valuable a political thinker to not have contributing blah blah”) in return for him not campaigning for Ange or Burnham - or indeed for himself! The aim is to take effective control of the Upper Chamber post-May and then ram through the revised Leftist agenda, designed to bring the Union funds back on stream.

Socialism’s relationship with democracy has always been ambivalent, and as Maggie Thatcher pointed out, “The problem with socialism is that you eventually run out of other people’s money.”

However, in Japan, the F1 money-tree continues to flourish, and at Suzuka, it isn’t just the cherry blossoms that are out causing gasps - there are plenty of sharpened egos and garage tensions on show with the “new car” honeymoon period surely over.

Mercedes is the team everyone loves to hate right now —

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I was wondering where we were financially on the Golf… if you don't stay on top of these things, you can soon find people accusing you of being good at what you do, with no evidence. So I like to keep a tidy house. You know, getting the ducks in a neat little row and then mopping them up with a broom, so that all my eggs and my baskets are in place etc. Always best to whip the room into a clean whistle (Reminder to self: don’t tidy the Gin before midday!)

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Some years ago, Edgedale and I, along with 99% of the developed world, drank our way through gallons of the AIX brand of Provençal rosé wine, constantly referring to it as the A9. Not hugely funny - but also not terribly concerning, as almost everyone was doing it and everyone knew what we meant.

Watching a news clip of the American Secretary of Educatio…

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I suppose I should be over the shock of it all by now.

The man, after all, has been running the country for over 625 days and counting, and so far, even he has failed to match the Tories’ relentless drive to attain global dominance in the Arrogant, Stupidity Stakes.

But jeepers, he is getting mighty close. Today we saw 10-year Gilts shoot past 5.06%, whic…

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It’s been three steps forward and five steps back, pretty well every day this week. Endless foul-ups; an unresolved boiler cylinder dispute; my not understanding the limitations of what AI can actually do at the Big Mac end of the spectrum - as opposed to the Michelin-starred Musk-end of the AI food chain. Three times in 48 hours, and I’m talking about 12 hours at a time, I have had to restart because it/they only handles a certain amount before the meter needs feeding again, and refuses to recapture the last conversation. It’s my fault, I know - I just have to work out the how…

Some huge respite came on Thursday, when we drove up to Ludlow for a really cracking day at the racecourse and their annual charity raceday. I’m not sure I know of any other course

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Off to Ludlow races… charidee day. 3 hours… Must dash sorry

Greened out and winner last week

8 against the field

• Jacob Bridgeman

• Brooks Koepka

• Matt Fitzpatrick

• Ryo Hisatsune

• Austin Smotherman

• Billy Horschel

• Rasmus Hojgaard

• Sahith Theegala

1

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This time last week, the developed world was either preparing itself to go to, punt on, work at, host lunch parties for, or give hospitality at Cheltenham.

I say developed world, I mean, of course, sane and sensible people who don’t mind looking exactly the same as everyone else - a bastion of middle-class Tweed, a portcuillis of brown and coloured velev…

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More TV racing today, more astonishment that F1 has managed to make it dull, more Rugby disappointment (surely) for Blighty, more incredulity that either Trump is working for Putin or truly does not understand he is being manipulated. You think me deranged?

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By the skin of our teeth… and with one bound we were almost free!

The more flamboyant Tipster type might tell you that we have had two winning days from three so far. That we have - across the various Posts, Ratings and Stats pieces - had multiple double-digit winners! Roll up, roll up! The reality, of course, is that Day 2 was a total train crash, and thanks to young Joseph O’Brien and Home By The Lee at 33/1, Thursday wasn’t. The scores on the doors are +6.8, -32.5, and +19.8, so all in all, we’re almost 6 points down. I was quite pleased, smug even, until I texted a chum in his box and asked if he had read my advice. No, he said. “But it’s OK… My wife plays tennis with one of the Martator owners, so she and I had that at 66, and then had backed White Noise in the first.”

Squashed doesn’t really cut it sometimes.

Lambourn lunches today with vets, models, trainers, itinerant bounders, plus Madame, with me slotting neatly into the background. Then dinner… then another dinner… then Sunday lunch for a dozen. It’s getting to the stage where the Galway Festival would actually be a quieter alternative!

It’s about this time of year that I feel I need a break… just tell me when it’s safe to go out on the old banana boat during my extraordinarily cheap All-Inclusive on the Shatt-al-Arab.

Meanwhile, Willie has been a bit tetchy about God and Cheltenham not providing a mud bath; am I alone in thinking it hasn’t all been four-leaf clover and craic between our two great nations this week? Argy-bargies down at the start; a punch up in the Ladies’ Loo today behind the Guinness Village, (the video HERE is a cracker - and the answer is “Yes, your Bum does look too big in that!) There was another barney in the betting shop on Tuesday with an all-round melee. What’s going on?

Winners today… I feel as though my luck is in, and that even I could survive the Cheltenham Car Park on a wet Friday afternoon, three false starts, a visit to an on-course betting shop and bar, and possibly even a flirt with a girl called Doreen who is wearing enough material to cover a smartphone.

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Further adornments as we continue the great experiment.

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