Aintree Memories 



Having seen the course, one's admiration for the 

 horses and riders is boundless. Here they come ! 

 Parading past the stands. A priceless single file of 

 horseflesh. What an experience ! Seeing the world's 

 greatest steeplechasers and their riders in the flesh. 

 Their names are household words. We have read about 

 them in the papers but this is different. And now 

 they are down at the starting post. Bookmakers are in 

 a frenzy, tipsters completely hysterical, owners and 

 trainers developing temperatures, spectators rapidly 

 growing crazy and that handful of silk-clad riders, 

 who should be more excited than all put together, are 

 probably the coolest people within miles of Liverpool ! 



They need their wits. Participating in this terrific 

 charge of half-a-hundred bloodstock to the first fence. 

 What a sight ! A wave of colour rising to it. Two are 

 down; on they go, open ditch claims three. Loose 

 horses causing havoc fence before Becher's latter lives 

 up to its reputation. On, onwards relentless. Canal Turn ; 

 refusals. Valentine's takes its toll . . . another open 

 ditch coming towards the stands. On past them; 

 terrific pace; over the water; more grief at The Chair; 

 and on they sweep on their second circuit. Out to the 

 country again, fancied candidates missing. Thank 

 heaven there is no mist. Well strung out now . . . 

 eyes riveted on the leaders at Becher's. Outsider leads 

 over Valentine's. Rival down at last open ditch . . . 

 seven still together . . . three forging to the front. 

 Outsider leading at the last fence .... someone's 

 crashed . . . he's still in it. He's headed ! He's coming 

 up, coming up, fighting every inch, he'll win ... a 



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