‘A man can be as wise as Solomon and have an iron character and still be carried away.’ Fyodor Dostoevsky was writing about the poetic charms of the roulette wheel, but it could just as easily be Cheltenham for those of us addicted to the thrills of that Gloucestershire spa town in March. Just to clarify, I lack Solomon’s wisdom and, come the festival, am not always renowned for my iron character. Yes, I too have been carried away – all the way to the brink. To the “Get Out Stakes” that for so many years was the County Hurdle – the last race of the meeting in those days when Cheltenham wasn’t stretched (along with our stamina) to four days. Friday was for recovering, as often as not licking the wounds.
