I backed Orfevre in the 2012 Arc De Triomphe too, and I was doing exactly what the young Japanese race fans in the video above were doing, at both the happy and sad points in the Longchamp straight.

It was home to the world that beautiful big chestnut stallion, absolutely home, but the champion with all the ability in the world was a haughty, flighty bastard and an egomaniac who started sneering as he breezed past the field at half pace at the 250m metre mark and put them away, and then decided he had proven his superiority so clearly that there was nothing left to prove, and pulled himself up, pulling my money and the Nippon boys and girls hopes and dreams with him.

I’d like to say I learnt a lesson that night, but I’d be lying because I learnt it long, long ago and in the excitement of the moment simply forgot.

Never go the early crow.

You’re not 70 yet Neville, you’re still only 69.


Jacking up your birthday bash on the  day of the night of the Australian Racing Awards being held in Vegas so you can try to slip the big bash bill through as a Director’s hospitality expense doesn’t fool me Sunshine.

I know a young joker when I see one.

It’s your soon to be neighbour in the unit underneath the penthouse you’ve bought at Ascot Green on the inside run who’s 70 Nifty, not you little whippersnapper, not until Wednesday anyway.

Many happy returns.

Your stallion doesn’t get ’em, so someone has to.