Oh, Babe, What Would You Say

 So there was no case to answer for Rachel Reeves in the oversight of her estate agents. As there wasn't, either, when Keir Starmer had a bottle of beer during a break from work during the election campaign. Okay, Angela Rayner maybe had to go because it was a bad look but none of them were sending a lackey out from 10 Downing Street to the off licence to fill a suitcase with booze during lockdown the night before the Queen's husband's funeral. One can't help being a bit partisan about it when your lot are trying to do a proper job in very testing circumstances after the other lot thought their own rules didn't apply to them and carried on with their charlatanry regardless.

But in the past I've been told by both Northern Irish and Portugese people that we are lucky to have the politicians we have. And we take a look around. At the USA, say, being run haphazardly by a felon that pardoned himself. At France where an ex-President is in prison. At large parts of Africa. Of course at Russia. And maybe we should be grateful for what we've got.

Caitlin Moran in The Times the other day did well to point out that some elements of the UK we think we miss so much are still, in fact, in evidence. Maybe she has a point. On balance, I have little to complain about that isn't largely self-inflicted.

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It's a long road back from a very minor, self-inflicted problem- that this year has not kept pace with the steady profit-making on the turf of the last several years. February-ish was a disaster in which much of the brought forward ammunition was lost. But one sticks to the plan and the plan is not to put any cash into an account with a bookie. The plan is to periodically, as and when, take it from them and transfer it to an account of my own. Consistently, like one-way traffic, however gradually.

It's been like the Alamo for months, defending a precarious last stand position, but it's a game in itself. One big, bold false move and it's game over and, like Rachel, one has to break one's own fiscal rules.

One needs a string of winners without breaking stribe but three steps forward and one step back will do. Thus 4 out of 4 in the last three days, at necessarily short prices but all winning easily, provides the latest glimpse and an escape back to 'business as usual'. After which, of course, it will be nhecessary to keep on winning. It's like the football supporter looking at their team's upcoming fixtures and saying, 'we need to win most of those'. Well, yes, that's what sport is like. It makes no sense at all to be playing games that one doesn't want to win.

It reminds me of 1975, was it, when I first played in the Gloucester Sunday League for a team bottom of the division and winless. Each time we went out I wondered whether I'd take the draw if it was offered and thought not but generally found I should have. After being relegated and finding a bit more backbone, it turned around eventually.

We didn't have anybody 'world class' in Gloucester Sunday League Division 4. Nobody quite as classy as Precise (Del Mar, 23.05, tonight). How she picked them off at Newmarket last time looked as pretty as a picture. Drawn widest of all this time is not ideal but Soumillon is a dream substitute jockey and the ideal rider for the job. There's never a more dangerous time in horse racing than when one feels confident and so we still stick to the plan, only glad of our 6/5. If I'd stuck to the plan early in the year I wouldn't have to be dragging myself out of this quagmire now.