Monday, 9 September 2013

Gone To The Dogs

This weekend we once again threw a bunch of stuff in the car and drove down the motorway to visit family. This time it was the turn of Dan's folks, most specifically his mum who was celebrating her birthday with a big family get together at the dog tracks.

I've never been before so I wasn't sure what to expect and if I'm honest I'm a little disappointed we didn't see any Del Trotter types in flat caps and sheep skin jackets.
If anything I saw a lot of bright young things who wouldn't have looked out of place in a John Newman video and a bunch of very fast dogs.

I didn't put any actual bets on. I just played along which was just as well really. The first dog I chose (merely because his name was Sparkle Bluebell) came in last. And it didn't get much better after that.
On this particular race, I went with King Lenny. Who lost. Also, I have no idea what 'tricast' means.
I have to confess I don't really get gambling and if it weren't for the chips, cider and friends, I may have been pretty bored after a race or two.

But there were a lot of people there to talk to and the races were fun if you didn't take them too seriously. To the nutter in the corner who screamed bloody murder while everyone else slowly backed away...I'm looking at you.

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