For those keen to learn yet more about the exciting, honest-joe world of racing brown horses from one end of a field to the other end of the same field, all the while whipping they asses, David Gee Gee Simpson resurrected the exciting horse-racing saga:
Hi All – It was Winx by three lengths in the George Ryder Stakes at Rosehill, her home track, for the final time this morning early – or late afternoon for Hogan and Spatch in Australia. Just a flick of the reins at the 300 meter mark by Hogan’s Mudgee mate Hugh and it was game over.
Win number 32 on the trot. The awesome tale continues.
Me: 32 wins! Liewe bliksem! That’s ridiculous – or rickadulious as Louis Slabbert would say.
Scratchmo hoped: Swannie, I think I have a convert. Yes you are correct, it is astonishing. Winx has the most wins in the history of racing World-wide. The most consecutive wins in World history.
Me: Aah, I thought I had a convert! I thought you’d see my point, that if you herded a whole bunch of horses to the top end of a field and chased them down to the bottom end of the field you may just as well have taken them straight down to the bottom end and saved time.
But if you insist I’m converted, where can I buy myself a Winx or two? Also, who’ll feed the thing?
And what will I do about the SOB’s who’ll want to trip my brown Winx horse if it was leading the field? And what can I sell a foal for once I breed one?
Dave Ample Thighs Simpson wrote: Forget about someone trying to trip your horse, you must first find an honest midget!
Feeding is easy. A sack of old mielie cops a day from Tabs’ farm should do the trick.
I don’t know what the foal will go for, but maybe Godolphin will pay US$$$5 million. Godolphin is the stable of Sheik Mohammed, the ruler of Dubai, so I think he has the loot. If not him, maybe our great South African Sheik, Sheik Markus will buy it.
One always has to remember the risks of racing, if Winx breaks a leg, she’s dead.
Me: Now you’ve made me nervous. I am not going to buy two Winx’s anymore. Not even if Tabbo gives me free mielies.
Speaking of Sheik Markus. I sincerely hope he goes to chookie for a while. I think that would be nice.
Also: Why do they ship horses all over for live-action pomping instead of using AI – Artificial Insemination? Put it in an envelope, mail it, insert it by hand? Those who like a little romance could kiss the envelope when they seal it.
. . . .
And you still haven’t admitted to the fact that the brown horse usually wins . .
Scratchmo, Equestrian Gajima Wizard Simpson, replied: AI is banned for registered race horses. Bloodlines are very important in the horse racing industry, so must be tracked to perfection, which I should imagine DNA can now do anyway, but I guess it also prevents any particular stallion’s bloodline from becoming too dominant globally, as he must actually pomp to make new race horses. For top stallions you must pay big loot for a pomp.
Also, each race horse has a passport and an inserted ID microchip, which is checked before each and every race.
And then the killer blow: Sorry Swannie, but there are three main colours of race horses, Grays, Bays and Chestnuts. So the bad news is that brown horses never win.
Me: Damn! I’ve been wasting my money all these years! Must be thirty, forty Rand I’ve wasted! Blown!
Amazing the Pomping Passport story! If humans had those there might be a bit more decorum! And a microchip in each guy’s willy.
I spose the Stallions Union agitated for no AI! They’d want to keep flying round the world, meeting mare chicks. Give them a jab and then fly off to pastures new, no parental care asked for, nor offered. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.
I imagine it’s quite a fraught scene when he has to do the deed. Injuries could happen!? So I’m guessing they don’t leave them alone in a nice quiet corner to first fall in love and whisper sweet nothings? Develop true feelings? Probly a highly supervised pomp, like a porno movie, complete with cameras and KY jelly?
Comedian Mark Simmons asked – and I think he has a point: ‘To be or not to be a horse fancier, that is equestrian.’ I used to be – back when there were brown horses.