The great Irish dramatist of the nineteenth century, George Bernard Shaw, once wrote that youth is wasted on the young. It makes sense to me. I feel reasonably sure that as most of us on this forum have passed our so called peak, we will at some time or other have felt the same way. I for one feel that nature has well and truly ****ed up. I've stored up decades of experience in all manner of subjects, but I fear that it's all coming to nothing. Where once as a teenager, it was just a matter of offloading after a couple of minutes of pelvic gyrations, usually to a Bob Dylan track like blowing in the wind, I now see myself as a long distance plodder. And the good wife of thirty five years appears to be well fooled by my efforts. She cuddles up to me and even holds my hand in public.
But I didn't ask for this ageing bullshit, it's a most unpleasant inconvenience that's been thrust upon me against my will. How does it make sense to spend a life time accruing wisdom, passion and insight, top it all off with an enlightened imagination, then hang it on a fast withering piece of flesh? I read somewhere that we should be born mature and healthy, in our prime so to speak. Then mentally regress in as our bodies begin to fail us. I don't want to have one and not the other, it's bloody unfair. At this point in my life, I have the mind of a great lover. Women should grovel at my feat, in eager anticipation of what I can unleash in them. But honestly, what young, mindless bimbo wants to hang out with a wrinkly old bloke who can't keep his nuts away from his knees? It's ****ed, the whole evolution thing is just a crock of ****. It's rooted with a capital roo.
So what has any of that got to do with racing? And well may you ask, if you did actually ask. Of course I can't possibly know whether you did or not. But I digress. The reason for the title "A Testament To Age" being chosen, is directly related to a gallant old warrior who will be going around in the 15:30 at Ffos Las, one Victory Gunner. This vintage wonder is 16 years of age and has been on the racing scene since 2002. One of the things that amazed me when I looked back over his race record, was that in his seventy odd appearances, he's only ever once been off his feet. He must have learned a valuable lesson that day, it happened at Exeter on the eighteenth day of November in the year of our Lord, two thousand and five. We greatly admire our Frankels and Kauto Stars, but racing is much more this these two super stars, it's also about the likes of the aptly named Victory Gunner. Have a safe passage old timer.
But I didn't ask for this ageing bullshit, it's a most unpleasant inconvenience that's been thrust upon me against my will. How does it make sense to spend a life time accruing wisdom, passion and insight, top it all off with an enlightened imagination, then hang it on a fast withering piece of flesh? I read somewhere that we should be born mature and healthy, in our prime so to speak. Then mentally regress in as our bodies begin to fail us. I don't want to have one and not the other, it's bloody unfair. At this point in my life, I have the mind of a great lover. Women should grovel at my feat, in eager anticipation of what I can unleash in them. But honestly, what young, mindless bimbo wants to hang out with a wrinkly old bloke who can't keep his nuts away from his knees? It's ****ed, the whole evolution thing is just a crock of ****. It's rooted with a capital roo.
So what has any of that got to do with racing? And well may you ask, if you did actually ask. Of course I can't possibly know whether you did or not. But I digress. The reason for the title "A Testament To Age" being chosen, is directly related to a gallant old warrior who will be going around in the 15:30 at Ffos Las, one Victory Gunner. This vintage wonder is 16 years of age and has been on the racing scene since 2002. One of the things that amazed me when I looked back over his race record, was that in his seventy odd appearances, he's only ever once been off his feet. He must have learned a valuable lesson that day, it happened at Exeter on the eighteenth day of November in the year of our Lord, two thousand and five. We greatly admire our Frankels and Kauto Stars, but racing is much more this these two super stars, it's also about the likes of the aptly named Victory Gunner. Have a safe passage old timer.
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