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As I said to Leapin’ Liam Birchley the day after I stopped Crack Me Up at Doomben, “You’ll get less weight in a better race next start and after it bolts in you’ll be begging my forgiveness and singing my praises all over town”.

Crack Me Up went on to win the Villiers next start, and wouldn’t have carrying an extra 2 kilos of lead in its saddle.

Leapin’ gave me a ring a couple of days later to say thanks, although I’m still checking the mail box every day looking for the sling (hey that’s another thirst quenching option – does anyone know where Birchley drinks?).

When he stops screaming about Butterflies stopping bloody trains and sits down and calmly thinks about it I’m sure young Benjamin T. (for Tornado) Currie will too.

Maybe.

I am starting to regret suggesting that one of his runners might have been about a slow uphill 2 mile trot short of being spot on though, and explaining the old timers second up hoodoo theory to him on the dog and bone last night in relation to the other.

Maybe I’ll give the Hammo a miss and have a quiet night at home in the Polo Club after all, just in case the Tornado’s drinking rum.