Those Post National Blues

Is there a name for it? That maudling feeling I experience - whether I've won or lost - on the Sunday morning after the Grand National. The jumps season is effectively over. It's at least 6 months before those heroes, and following this year's Champion Hurdle, heroines are seen again.
Still this year's race provided a heart warming story to cheer us through the summer months. Most importantly all the horses and jockeys were safe and sound. The rain drenched ground probably helped in this respect, although it also did for my tip The Druids Nephew. He could not 'jump out of it' (basically he got stuck in the mud) and ended up being pulled up.
The winning horse, Rule The World, was cheered home by quite a few women, because apparently his name is the title of a Take That song. Remarkably it was the horse's first ever win in a steeplechase, ridden by a 19 year old jockey having his first ride in the National. Who needs to spend hours studying the form and watching the videos when being a woman of a certain age and having a crush on Robbie Williams provides the key to profits?
Whilst I could not have selected Rule the World even with unlimited devoted expert research, I was almost able to join in the cheers because the trainer is Mouse Morris. Son of Lord Killanin, the Irishman nobleman and President of the International Olympic Committee, Mouse has always been an entertaining character. Now in his mid-sixties he still sports an impressive (albeit now grey) mullet, and chainsmokes the gaspers. His training base is in Fethard, a small town in County Tipperary where I once spent a memorable evening with a bunch of local racing fans in the Chinese pub in the centre of the town.
Mouse had a shattering experience last year, when his son Tiffer was killed by carbon monoxide poisoning whilst travelling in Argentina. Most observers also thought Mouse's training career was in decline so the win must have been a real tonic. 
I had watched the National at Lingfield, where they managed to put on a good show* for the largish crowd. They started with shire horse racing. All a bit gimmicky for me as they 'sprint' for 4 furlongs. One jockey, Luke Morris, even managed to fall off which in hindsight is perhaps not all that surprising as he looked very small on these massively impressive steeds.
As usual the handicaps on the Lingfield card were tricky. It is easy to see why the bookmakers sponsor them; indeed calling the 13 runner second race the Bookies' Benefit Stakes would have been an apt title.
The maidens though offer opportunities. Unraced horses from top yards tend to start at short prices. There was money all morning for Musdam in the 4.50. Trained by Sir Michael Stoute, and ridden by Ryan Moore, it was always likely to be over bet. I fancied John Gosden's Dommersen, which had the advantage of the experience of a previous run. I could not believe the 5/1 price it opened at on course and steamed in (err I mean backed it accordingly). Remarkably - for me anyway - there was then a massive gamble on Dommersen which saw its price shrink into 5/4. I like to think it was sparked by my early wager but sadly I suspect not.

Ridden by Frankie Dettori - I knew it was him because he had his name on his socks - Dommersen held on to win, and there was no doubt that the advantage of a previous run made the critical difference. Musdam will win, but needs more time and experience.
Lingfield offers the opportunity to see these great jockeys up close, walking through the spectators on the way to and from the paddock and winners enclosure. Frankie is the most popular, and seemed very happy to stop and chat, sign and be 'selfied' (not by me obviously). The taciturn Ryan Moore gets less attention, but it is still a thrill for me to watch the man who is now widely regarded as the best jockey in the world at one of our local tracks. And even though the morning gamble on Musdam went west, he did the business by winning two of the 'impossible' handicaps.
Brighton's second best ever sportsman, Steve Ovett, was given the freedom of the city. I hope Ryan, undoubtedly Brighton's greatest ever sportsman, is given a similar honour one day.




And the post National blues were lifting by Sunday afternoon  -after all it's the Craven meeting on Wednesday.

*I did though wonder why they put the stalls in front of the big screen, partially obscuring the National for much of the crowd - (see pic below)