Lynch the hero of the hour in Champion
It really was a mess, literally from start to finish, and only for Lynch finally making the correct decision, to swerve the last fence aboard Sizing Europe, this would have descended into complete farce.
We know there were three dolls placed across the obstacle originally and then they were all moved to one side in an effort, apparently, to offer maximum protection to the stricken Richard Johnson.
But the result was most of the fence was now wide open to be jumped, placing Lynch and Barry Geraghty, on Finian’s Rainbow, in an almost impossible situation.
These guys have to make instant calls, travelling at speed and in the white heat of battle. To raise massive doubts in their minds, as to whether an obstacle should be jumped or not, was utterly ridiculous.
Looking back at a tape of the race, you can see just how confused Lynch was. And then, of course, the guy waving the chequered flag was far from visible, tucked away near the far rail, and wasn’t much of a help at all.
Total disaster was only averted by Lynch’s last-gasp move to go around the fence. If he had asked Sizing Europe to jump it then we can be certain, and Barry Geraghty has said this, that Finian’s Rainbow would have went with him.
And that would have meant racing, yet again, being on every news bulletin on television and radio, and on the front pages of every newspaper, for all of the wrong reasons.
Reading the BHA statement after the contest, there is no doubt whatsoever they believed proper procedure was followed and, that being the case, both Finian’s Rainbow and Sizing Europe would have been disqualified.
Lynch was then, to add insult to injury, given a six-day suspension for using his whip incorrectly.
Quite frankly what the stewards should have done was invite him in for tea and buns, with a massive thank you for saving the blushes of people who should have known better.
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Biggest disappointment of the week had to be the tame display of Hurricane Fly in the Champion Hurdle.
His performance made no sense and the way he struggled from fully half a mile out was particularly surprising.
I think most pundits thought he would win, but it still amazed me how punters wanted to be on him at any price.
It’s the same every year, for as long as I’ve been going to the meeting, with people getting totally carried away in the lunacy that often surrounds this festival.
Many still seem incapable of grasping the concept that a 4-5 shot at Cheltenham will not return you a dividend any greater that it will, say, at Tramore.
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WATCHING the RSA Chase on Wednesday, I couldn’t help but think of Philip Fenton’s Last Instalment.
He had to miss the race, due to a relatively late injury, and, the way the contest worked out, you had to conclude that was a real pity.
Bobs Worth had to dig deep to beat First Lieutenant by two and a half lengths, with Call The Police back in third spot.
At Leopardstown at Christmas, Last Instalment slammed First Lieutenant by six lengths. It is far from an exact science, of course, but you’d still think Last Instalment had to go close, if fate hadn’t intervened.
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One of the things that struck me on Tuesday was how accommodating jockeys are with their time.
Here they were on the verge of the biggest meeting of the campaign, the one which simply defines their season, and many of them were all over the place doing interview after interview.
Chief among the jockeys was our own Ruby Walsh. He’s a massive name here at home, but is even bigger in Britain.
He had a column to write for us, after he returned from exercising some of Willie Mullins’ battalions on the gallops.
Then he seemed to settle down to an endless stream of interviews, for all different strands of the media.
All of that came before his real job kicked in, riding winners at the meeting. I cannot think of any other sport where the main participants would make themselves freely available on the day of a major assignment.
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Breakfast at 7.30 on Wednesday morning in the Cheltenham Park Hotel. The management try to make the Irish feel at home and usually have some of our ‘best loved’ tunes piping away in the background.
They do, however, seem to have a funny grasp of what we like and some of the stuff that was on offer was of the real cringe variety.
Indeed, just as the first of the rashers was about to be devoured, on came: ‘I’ll take you home again Kathleen.’ Oh God.
