Throughout my adolescence I was always discouraged from worlds that “supported” gambling. The chances of my mother’s childhood being anything other than penniless were handed to the bookmakers. So you can imagine my trepidation when visiting a racecourse for the first time. I didn’t know what to expect, I had all sorts of ideas in my mind of the world I was about to encounter, and thankfully every single one of my preconceptions were wrong.
Nothing can prepare you for the rush you feel when the wind of several majestic beasts gallop past you. Every single thud of their hooves representing a new hair raised on my arm.
Hearing the roar of a hopeful crowd as the outsider takes the win by a nose. Pure elation , joy.
Working for TPD allowed me to get a very unique and very rare look at behind the scenes of horse racing. I almost felt like an imposter, stepping foot into a world that so many have a deep rooted passion for , and would probably give their right arm to see the inner workings of.
The dark and dreary day at Lingfield Park eventually evolved into a perfect afternoon of November sun , I like to think that as the clouds opened, so did my mind.
There you have it, it’s possible, in a few short hours , entering a realm you’d been so vehemently warned against can evolve into a new love , a new curiosity, a new world.
What are the odds ?