A LION SHARES Why an Australian Lions tour is unique
BY JASON LEONARD
BEAUTY SPOTS Courses that make UK racing a delight
BY CORNELIUS LYSAGHT
SWISS ROLLERS Who to watch in Women’s Euro 2025
BY KAREN BARDSLEY
HOLY GROUND Football stadiums get under your skin
BY BRIAN VINER
Ascot’s Royal Procession is still going strong after 200 years, but the future holds uncertainty, says Cornelius Lysaght
KING GEORGE IV could never have imagined quite what he had dreamed up. Exactly 200 years ago, in 1825, the never shy or retiring king ordered that the arrival of himself, his friends and their vast entourage at Ascot’s already established Royal meeting be a new, choreographed spectacle, a glittering procession. Carriages would parade up the straight-mile to give the crowds what was described at the time as “the opportunity of beholding His Majesty… [and]… paying homage to their beloved monarch”.
Whether it was down to vanity or a shrewd move in turbulent times to be more
“in touch”, the Royal Procession did, in those pre-photography times, afford thousands of his subjects as good a chance to see their sovereign as they were ever likely to get. And they took full advantage: the number of racedays on which the procession took place was strictly limited until 1919 – and the return of the fixture following cancellation during the horrors of the Great War – and crowds were reported to swell or contract accordingly.
First time out, a “nodding and winking” King was accompanied by the Duke of Wellington, other courtiers and, according to The Times, “a more numerous train of outriders than we ever recollect observing;
in fact the whole of His Majesty’s stud, by his express command, accompanied him”.
Two centuries on, Ascot’s Royal Procession may be a little slimmed down, but it upholds the heritage of King George’s legacy magnificently. Images of this symbol of the historic link between the Royals and Ascot racecourse remain perhaps the most iconic in world horse racing, and among the
While Royal Ascot continues to do the pomp bit superbly, it’s acknowledged that there are significant challenges.
most famous in the rich portfolio of British sport as a whole.
And were George to return to Ascot today, he would find its details remarkably unchanged: “nodding and winking” apart, the King and Queen are there, with members of their family and friends, plus familiar racing names, all in all certainly a more diverse group than once upon a time, though still the great and the good.
But while Royal Ascot in the 2020s continues to do the pomp bit superbly, and the numbers of spectators who want to dress up and gain the best possible vantage point from which to watch remains pleasingly buoyant, it is acknowledged that →
→ there are also significant challenges. The first revolves around the all-important Royal connection moving forward. Because under the skilled stewardship of Sir Francis Brooke, His Majesty’s Representative at Ascot, the succession from Queen Elizabeth to Charles and Camilla has felt almost seamless, especially as it was hardly straightforward.
The late Queen’s love for flat racing as a whole but in particular for the sport’s big four – and subsequently big five – days at Ascot in mid-June was legendary. The dates were pretty much sacrosanct in her diary –she famously ‘dashed’ from Westminster to make the procession when a State Opening of Parliament took place during Ascot – and over the years her silks were carried to victory by 24 winners, most memorably Estimate in the 2013 Gold Cup.
Just as observers of George IV observed the King “at his ease, divested of the paraphernalia of the court” when at the races, his great, great, great, great-niece was the same, though in her case she also had the considerable expertise associated with being a prominent international owner/breeder.
When she died – with adviser John Warren among the last to see her, still talking racing and breeding in her final
TWENTY-TWO…
is “too many” at the blackjack table, but as we mark the 22nd edition of the Fitzdares Times, guest-edited by Cornelius Lysaght, it feels like we’re only just hitting our stride.
First, a heartfelt thank you for sticking with us through a rather eventful couple of months. In April, we unveiled our new app and website – a process that felt, at times, not unlike open-heart surgery. While this has taken a little longer than hoped, we’re fully focused on swiftly getting back to delivering the best-in-class experience you’re used to.
I’m also thrilled to plug our latest venture: Fitzdares’ World of Sport podcast, your weekly preview of the weekend’s major sporting events, packed with insight and authenticity. You’ll find more about it on page 27
Here’s to a great summer ahead!
Henry Beesley – FT Editor at Large
days – there was obvious concern about just how the relationship between her son and the Sport of Kings would develop, or indeed not. Although he almost always attended Ascot, it is probably fair to say that his enthusiasm had seemed only limited, and there was a slight suspicion that a pridedenting fall from his horse Good Prospect in the Kim Muir Chase at Cheltenham in 1981, during a spell as an amateur rider, had perhaps left its mark.
However, with the encouragement of Queen Camilla, a long-time follower of the turf, and of the Princess Royal, as well as of Brooke, things quickly blossomed, and fears at Ascot that he might just turn up for a day or two of the meeting were soon calmed.
THAT SAID, the timing of William Haggas and Tom Marquand when delivering Royal runner Desert Hero – bred by Queen Elizabeth – for victory in the King George V at the first Royal meeting of the new reign could not have been more impeccable. Since then, Charles has agreed to the renaming of the King’s Stand Stakes in his honour.
Camilla, meanwhile, has only added to her connections, becoming joint patron with her husband, of the Jockey Club and taking on the same role at the National Horseracing Museum and the British Racing School, plus presidency of the South London charity the Ebony Horse Club, whose runners are ridden by jockeys wearing her colours.
But with one succession apparently completed successfully, thoughts inevitably turn to the future. While his cousin Zara Tindall, the Princess Royal’s daughter, is very obviously a big fan (as demonstrated by her place on the board at Cheltenham), there is definite nervousness about what will happen when the new Prince of Wales’ time comes.
Although William and Kate have regularly attended Ascot, and occasionally Epsom and Cheltenham, there have been questions as to whether the couple just “go through the motions” out of deference to his late grandmother and to his father and stepmother. It is widely seen as not really the Waleses’ “thing”, though they have been visibly touched by the reception of the crowd when they do come, and officials will be keen to see more of the same, and a smooth-running afternoon, for their expected presence this year to present the trophies for the Prince of Wales’s Stakes –or, as one insider described it, “the most
important race of the week for Ascot, whatever’s running”.
While the Royal family can be influenced and discreetly persuaded, the other issue facing the course is rather more out of its hands, as Britain’s lower levels of prize money compared to other jurisdictions threaten its global status.
A well-orchestrated international push from the turn of the century onwards proved a triumph and saw an impressive number of runners from across the world –Australia, Hong Kong, Japan, South Africa and the US in particular – practically queuing up to jet into Berkshire, attracted by the chance to rub shoulders with Queen Elizabeth and be part of the event. And they have provided a string of memorable moments, with victories for runners like Australian sprinters Choisir, Takeover
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Target, Black Caviar and Nature Strip, and challengers from America, many trained by the charismatic Wesley Ward, including No Nay Never and Lady Aurelia.
It is not as though the numbers have dried up, but trading off Ascot’s prestige becomes harder and harder as it becomes pricier and pricier to get here, and when purses the size of which British racing can only dream about are available on a regular basis much closer to home.
Behind the flawless historic ceremony, the work can never stop. Oh, to be back at George IV’s Royal Ascot, when the main headache was probably the draw – not even in the still-to-be-invented starting stalls, but at dinner. n
Cornelius Lysaght is guest editor of this edition of the Fitzdares Times
FRIDAY 4 APRIL
INVESTED £1,000 EW SELECTION Gentleman De Mee @ 20/1 16:05 Aintree RETURNED £26,000
MONDAY 7 APRIL
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THURSDAY 8 MAY
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SATURDAY 10 MAY
INVESTED £20 REVERSE FORECAST SELECTION Night Breeze @ 16/1 WON Ocean Of Dreams @ 16/1 2ND 15:15 Ascot RETURNED £4,908
SATURDAY 17 MAY
INVESTED £125 YANKEE SELECTION Fast Track Harry @ 10/11
Desert Hero winning
The King George V Stakes in 2023
FSPEAKER’S CORNER Jonathan Overend
A WAITING GAME
IFTEEN STRAWBERRY-AND-CREAM YEARS have elapsed since that John Isner versus Nicolas Mahut Wimbledon epic, otherwise known as the longest match in tennis history, which blocked out three entire days of our otherwise valuable lives back in 2010. On that damp and increasingly dreary Tuesday (and Wednesday… and Thursday…), Court 18 became a wham-bam encampment with two giant serving machines and a gory crowd flocking to see freakish records tumble. On and on it went, rewriting history to the point where the final set (more than seven hours) was itself longer than the previous longest match!
Poor Mahut. He racked up enough points (502), games (91) and aces (103) to win an entire tournament, holding serve 84 consecutive times, for goodness’ sake! Except, he lost. Lost in the first round, indeed. He was asked to pose for a photo alongside the groundbreaking scoreboard reading 70-68 and his conqueror, Isner. Yet for this undesirable place in history, along with his American opponent, the Frenchman achieved something truly remarkable: he changed the sport of tennis as we know it. Undoubtedly for the better.
Technically, under the old scoring system, with no final set tie-break, Isner and Mahut could have continued to hold serve to this day, drawing their tennis pensions at the sit-downs, the match into its 16th year. There was no definitive way of ending the match in the event of neither man losing his serve. What would have happened had it got, say, to 100-100 after four days? Rock-paper-scissors? Or 150-150 after five? Tim Henman’s tie-break sports quiz? This single match forced the authorities to introduce deciding final set tie-breaks (initially at 10-10, then at 6-6, consistent with the other grand slam events). Now, with matches still taking upwards of five hours in some cases, it’s time to look again at the way tennis scores itself.
Despite being a traditionalist at heart, I find myself more and more coming around to the idea of shortening the product. Sometimes it takes 45 minutes to get to ‘the business end’ of a set and, should it go to a tie-break, some sets are lasting 75 minutes. Add in the down-time – the sit downs, the towels, the toilet breaks – and that’s an entire day’s horseracing in one single tennis match. We need to save time and make matches shorter.
Tennis has to adapt and become more consumer-friendly by fitting into com-
By moving quicker to the decisive moments, it means we have more games that truly matter
mercial time slots, allowing athletes to recover better, tournaments to run more satisfactory days without early-hours finishes and television channels to schedule at prime time safe in the knowledge they’re going to see the end, which is surely the whole point.
So to solutions. We can save an inordinate amount of time from within matches. To be blunt, the faffing. The knock-up? Scrap it. Service lets? Scrap ’em. Sit-downs? Not after three games, thanks. Toilet breaks? Don’t get me started… But more serious is the scoring system itself. And this is where the debate rages. Some want to kill off best-of-five (I think a unique selling point of the grand slam tournaments), while others prefer to get rid of ‘advantage’ points and play ‘gamepoint’ at deuce, like they do in doubles on the ATP and WTA tours (I love the back-and-forth of a deuce game!).
MY PREFERRED OPTION IS TO SHORTEN THE SETS. Tie-break at 4-4, rather than at 6-6, I say. What do we lose, apart from half an hour of preamble as the protagonists work their way, invariably at snail’s pace, to 2-2, 3-3 etc? By moving quicker to the decisive moments, it means we have more games that truly matter and we don’t lose the turbulence of a bestof-five match. These sets would last 15 minutes minimum, 45 minutes at an absolute maximum. If it goes to a fifth and final set, the match would last probably around two hours and be decided by a first-to-ten tie-break at 4-4. The entire contest would retain its five-set-epic nature but spectators would be hooked for longer, the drama would come quicker and TV broadcasters would know the maximum duration.
The bottom line is that sport has to adapt. We all have to adapt to the changing times, and not necessarily because of attention spans or ‘the social media age’. Sometimes it’s because change is the right thing to do. Isner and Mahut tried playing for three days and it was flippin’ dull. Now we routinely go on until the early hours and it’s exhausting and unsustainable – and that’s just for the spectators, let alone the athletes. So, tennis, it’s time for further change. Not all will agree, but here we go: “Four games all, tie-break!” n
Jonathan Overend is a sports broadcaster at BBC 5 Live
The marathon between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut will never be forgotten – and must never be repeated
British luxury brands support nearly half a million jobs nationwide
Edward Green, shoemaking, Northampton.
Shot by Sam Walton
Boodles
chairman Michael Wainwright
First of all, congratulations on another successful Boodles Cheltenham Gold Cup sponsorship.
Thank you, yes, it was great for us. I suppose you could say that it wasn’t the result that some would have said would be a great one [a Galopin Des Champs hat-trick], but that didn’t really worry me because we still had a wonderful race which got a lot of coverage. And it was again a great opportunity for us to entertain our key customers and meet new ones. It was our fourth time, and the first year of a new three-year agreement – we’re very happy with the association.
I bet receiving the Cheltenham call-up from Boodles is a much sought-after invitation.
Well, yes I like to think that the invitation to our final-fence box on Gold Cup day is the ultimate for many of our customers. We do the Royal Ballet, we do the Chelsea Flower Show, we do quite a lot of lovely things – but they want to be with us on Gold Cup day. We entertained around 120 people, and as well as enjoying themselves, they’re seeing the name of the company from whom they buy jewellery up in lights, which counts for a lot.
Great to hear, especially from such a long-established business.
We do it to build even better bonds with our existing customers and to send a message to the world that we are alive and kicking. We also have a shop on the course, which picks up new customers as well every year.
Everyone seems to notice the pink colouring on your branding.
They do – it’s often mentioned to me how the pink against the green everywhere at Cheltenham works so well. I remember getting to the course very early for our first Gold Cup, and I was walking around the site looking at the pink and then the green of the course and, honestly, it brought a tear to my eye. It looked great.
tells us why Cheltenham is the jewellery brand’s perfect partner
My dad [Anthony] first sponsored a race at Bangor-on-Dee –it was probably a £500 hurdle, something like that – back in the 1970s when we had just two shops, in Liverpool and Chester, and he’s been dead 30 years now, but he loved racing and I did think of how proud he’d have been to see where the company has come in that time.
How did the link with Cheltenham come about?
My dad instilled a love for racing in me, and I’d been to Cheltenham, and we started by sponsoring the Leading Rider at the Festival in 2014. That was always Ruby Walsh, a fantastic jockey, but the competition wasn’t exactly exciting, so we moved onto the juvenile hurdle, and after that I came on to the board, and [racecourse chairman] Martin St Quinton phoned me up out of the blue and asked how we might fancy sponsoring the Gold Cup. I called my brother [Nicholas], with whom I ran the company, and fortunately he didn’t take too much persuading. We’d had a good Christmas and we thought why the hell not – we’re only on this planet once, so let’s give it a go, and I called Martin back only about an hour later. Being a family business, and not some big corporate conglomerate, it’s our money and we can make quick decisions which aren’t always right, but I think that this one certainly was.
Yes, you’ve been quoted as saying it’s the best commercial call you’ve made.
The benefits of sponsorship are very difficult to quantify in terms of bottom-line profit, but all I know is that we went into the Gold Cup in 2022, and I definitely think our brand has gained traction and benefited in the past three years. With my business hat on, I would say it has been more beneficial than anything else we’ve done, and from a personal point of view it lights my fire too.
That’ll be music to the ears of Cheltenham and the Jockey Club.
Well, I don’t want the Jockey Club to think they’ve got us on
toast, but I think it’s a marriage made in heaven. The only disappointment really is that there aren’t more luxury brands going into race sponsorship.
Generally companies sponsoring at Cheltenham, like, for example, Albert Bartlett with Ronnie Bartlett or Ultima with Max McNeill, are there because they are either run by or were set up by people who adore racing. It’s just such a shame that other companies run by people who don’t necessarily have that passion don’t realise the benefits it can bring to their brand. It’s great that Aston Martin have got involved – they are not sponsoring a race but are very much in the Orchard [shopping area] at Cheltenham, where we also are.
And it’s not just Cheltenham that you support.
The Jockey Club likes you to spread it around, so we are at Aintree and at Wincanton for the Rising Stars Novices Chase, which I was lucky enough to win as part of the Footie Partnership, with Ga Law. We also do the Boodles May Festival at Chester, which, like Aintree, has been a great opportunity for us close to home in the North West, the Yorkshire Cup at York and the Champion Hurdle at Punchestown, so you can see what we think of the association between our brand and racing.
What are your thoughts about the future?
Everything has its challenges and horseracing has got to make itself as appealing as possible, but at the moment it works very well for us; you can’t beat a day at the races, and our clients keep on saying yes to our invitations, so they must like it. From a Boodles point of view, we have two more years of sponsorship and I’d like to think we’ll carry on doing it for some years to come. My nephews now run the company day-to-day, and they’re not into the racing quite like I am, but they understand the value we get, and my son Geordie is involved too and like me he loves the racing, so I’m sure we are in safe hands. n
BOODLES have sponsored the Cheltenham Gold Cup since 2022
It’s fair to say I’m one of life’s pessimists. My outlook on life could be a synopsis for a Ken Loach film; I make Eeyore look jolly, my glass is not even half empty – it’s the dregs of a pint left outside a pub on the pavement with fag ends left to stew. You get the idea. Throw in the world today – Trump, tariffs, war and Liverpool winning the league (I’m a bitter Blue) – and my mood is on a par with Southampton’s points total.
However, help is at hand. On Friday 4 April our ‘summer’ sport got under way with the first round of County Championship fixtures, throwing up a tantalising prospect in the world of Tailenders, the loosely cricket-based podcast I have produced for the past seven and a half years, presented by BBC Radio 1 Breakfast Show host Greg James, musician and writer Felix White and Jimmy Anderson, some bloke you might have heard of who is quite good at this cricket malarky.
Earlier this year, having retired from international cricket, Jimmy announced he was to play a full season for Lancashire, and that meant a match against Middlesex at Lord’s on the first day of the season. It was just too perfect. On the podcast we hatched a plan for Tailenders of the world to unite and take over Lord’s to witness England’s most successful bowler in full flight. I say “plan”, but it was a plan in the same way Liz Truss had a plan for the UK economy – in essence, we said we’d be going to Lord’s and if any listeners wanted to join us they’d be most welcome. That was it.
What could go wrong? Yes we needed the rain to stay away and for Lancs not to be batting, but apart from those uncontrollable factors (not sure what the odds were), everything was set fair for a day out at the home of cricket. But with days to go, my phone pinged with the news Jimmy was injured and wouldn’t be playing. Should we still go? No offence to Toby Roland-Jones and Keaton Jennings, but was the allure of watching second division cricket while shivering in ‘spring’ weather still a pull now that Jimmy wasn’t playing? Of course it was. So, just a few days after Liverpool had won the Merseyside derby and moved inexorably to another title, I set off to Lord’s for a day I hoped would soothe the soul and banish the litany of depressing news. And the cricketing gods were smiling that day.
After negotiating the weird ‘mini-hurricane’ that greets you as you leave St John’s Wood tube station – it’s like some strange weather vortex that blows through the doors – I emerged into glorious sunshine and proceeded to the North Gate to meet Matt Horan, aka Mattchin Tendulkar. Matt is a regular podcast contributor, quiz creator, cricket influencer, roll-
DIARY
by Mark Sharman
On arrival, we were shocked to be greeted by something not often seen at county cricket: a queue
up shoe salesman, distantly related to the great Sachin Tendulkar. His back story is too complicated to go into here; you’ll have to listen to the podcast. I think he first appeared in episode 3.
On arrival, we were shocked to be greeted by something not often seen at county cricket: a queue. Now, we Brits love a queue, but with time ticking towards the start time of eleven o’clock, this was an unexpected annoyance. Someone nearby quipped: “And they say county cricket is dead,” to which another wag responded with: “Which is ironic, as most who watch it are close to death.” Yes, some of those walking – or should I say shuffling – past us and heading to the members’ areas were no doubt on the Grim Reaper’s ‘to-do’ list, but it was also noticeable how many young people were there.
Once in – someone at Lord’s eventually worked out the situation and reinforcements were sent to open more ticket booths – we settled into a spot in the Compton Lower, and that’s when the magic happened. While the serene ebb and flow of the match revealed itself on the pitch, off it our group of Tailenders slowly grew. Greg and Felix turned up midway through the first session and we were soon surrounded by people who also wanted to be bathed in the comfort of cricket.
There was Susie, who had brought a scorebook which was passed round for everyone to do a few overs; Sam, who had travelled down from Sheffield; Joseph, a kid who had made his own Tailenders hoodie; a listener dressed in a shirt emblazoned with ‘Mattchin’s face’; and players from Herts and Middlesex CC disability teams, to name but a few of our merry band. The crowd (and by this point it was a crowd) rose mid-afternoon to greet Elly Oldroyd – legendary sports presenter and the ‘Queen of Tailenders’ – with a standing ovation. Sausage rolls that had been left in the unseasonable sunshine, and become a touch sweaty, were passed around, anecdotes shared, beers bought, friendships started, tales of general cricketing sadness regaled, but, most importantly, worries and troubles evaporated.
To a soundtrack of the famous Lord’s ‘hum’, interrupted with the comforting knock of leather on willow, the world seemed a better place. Looking across the outfield, surrounded by like-minded folk, it dawned on me that, you know what, everything is going to be OK. For one beautiful afternoon the Tangerine Tyrant in the White House and rest of the news agenda were no match for the wonderful sport of cricket. n
Mark Sharman – aka Sharky – is the producer of the Tailenders podcast
The BBC Tailenders team on a previous Lord’s outing last year: Felix White, Greg James, Jimmy Anderson, Mark Sharman and Matt Horan
SPRINGTIME – THE HARBOUR IS FULL OF YACHTS, OFF THE WATER SUNSHINE IS DAZZLING,
SAINT-TROPEZ IN THE EIGHTIES This particular Sunday, however, was no ordinary Sunday. In fact, a band of sports aficionados had been invited to Villa Las Palmas for opening day of the first padel court in Saint-Tropez.
Our host, Tony, an early padel addict, was showing off the latest court of his collection, adding to two others at his villas in Miami and Acapulco. Among the 30-odd guests was a tall, handsome Frenchman –let’s call him JNG. A longtime friend of our host and well known up and down the Côte d’Azur, JNG was a master of many games. He had once reached the semi-final of the doubles at Wimbledon, and he had also won the World Backgammon Championship in Monte Carlo. Quite a repertoire!
Prior to lunch that Sunday, four or five of us spent the morning trying our luck at
& BRIGITTE BARDOT IS STILL BEAUTIFUL
Lewis Deyong recalls a ti me when a padel court was still a rare treat
the board. I may add here that some seemed to try rather harder than others. When lunch was gonged, the score read JNG plus 47 points, a few other plus or minus scores, and Tony minus 61. So nothing new – to Tony the sum was like a flea bite, but he had lost yet again to JNG. Would it never change?
Over lunch, the talk (in five different languages) was all of padel: “Zis is historique day for the padel,” declared our host. “ We must find a special opening match.” Among the guests was another mondaine character, with one of those long, unpronounceable French names that sounded like du Grandenoir de Moutonville, or some such. Known as ‘Robbo’, he was without a doubt the most cynical human being I have ever met, and as he had dropped 10 points pre-lunch he was even more acidic than usual.
“Tony, if you want an epic event, why don’t you play the opening match against JNG and beat him?” he asked our host. “Talk about historique – Hector beats Achilles…” Minus 61 points, Tony didn’t find this remark all that funny, but then JNG intervened: “Yes Tony, you and me, but of course I give you ’andicap. One point for every year between us.” Some quick maths confirmed the handicap: 20 points. In those days, padel still used ping-pong scoring, so in a match to 21, Tony needed to win one point. Only one measly point.
The match was on – stake $1,000, and a lot of side-betting between the guests.
Robbo piled in on his old pal JNG to recover the 10 points lost at backgammon.
Down we all trooped to courtside. Tony’s girlfriend threw out the first ball and off we went. I must add here that Tony was no stranger to conflict at many levels. In the ill-fated summer of 1940, he escaped France
with de Gaulle, joined the RAF and flew more than 50 missions as a fighter pilot in the Battle of Britain. Certainly he would not lack courage for this ‘Battle of Saint-Tropez’. Alas, it was soon evident he would need a lot more than raw courage. JNG took no chances, just moved the ball side to side, causing the walls to intervene on most of Tony’s returns. Tony was not what you might call agile, and soon he was worn out
by his futile lumbering. Like a death watch, the score kept mounting: 20-3, 20-11… at 2014, JNG produced an untouchable lob over Tony’s head.
At 20-17, JNG suddenly chopped a dropshot just over the net, and it was now that the Padel Goddess of Fortune, perhaps remembering the war, decided to live up to her name and favour the brave. As Tony strove to reach the net, he slipped, out shot his racquet, and the edge caught the ball, sending it into the upper reaches of the azure sky. All necks craned to watch an extraordinary descent. The ball had gone so high that the descent was straight down, but (thanks to the Goddess of Fortune), on a course maybe two inches from the back wall. Down, bounce, back up, down again… second bounce!
For JNG to get his racquet between the ball and the wall was totally impossible; no conceivable shot could get the ball back. Hurrahs all round: game, set and match, and $1,000 to Tony. After years of trying, he had finally beaten JNG, and of all things at tennis. Although JNG did not jump over the net, he did embrace Tony and, with a big smile, flourished his cheque book and presented the winner with the $1,000.
‘ALORS, JNG, JUST TAKE IT off the backgammon score,” offered Tony. However, JNG had not lacked a certain quality of resource in winning his string of titles. “Tony, I insist you keep the first cheque I have ever written to you… You wanted an historique match, and YOU won it. Maybe you should frame the cheque as an historic document.” Talk about thinking on your feet.
“Oui, d’accord, d’accord, of course I frame her, and I frame the chèque originale.” And, do you know, so he did, with the legend of the score printed below of perhaps the most famous padel match ever played in Saint-Tropez.
As a postscript, Tony won, JNG kept his record intact, and the only loser was Robert du Grandenoir de Moutonville. As this is a family-friendly publication, I’ll consign his final comments to the dustbin of history. n
Lewis Deyong is now involved with ADVANTAGE PADEL , which has opened a club in Kingsley, Hampshire, and has several more in the pipeline
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The Middle Park Stakes
The National Stakes
The Gold Cup twice
The July Cup twice
The Haydock Sprint Cup three times
The Nunthorpe Stakes
The Queen Elizabeth II Jubilee Stakes twice
The Champions Sprint
The Flying Five Stakes
The Prix de l’Abbaye
The Poule d’Essai des Pouliches
The Prix de l’Opera
The Prix Maurice de Gheest
The Criterium International
The Grand Criterium
The Gran Criterium de Milan
The Breeders’ Cup Turf
The Secretariat Stakes
The Caulfield Cup
The Sydney Cup twice
The Metropolitan Handicap
The Chipping Norton Stakes
The Queen Elizabeth II Challenge Cup
NESTLING ON THE BANKS of the eponymous river in countryside busy with sheep and cattle, close to the border of North Wales and Cheshire, Bangor-on-Dee – Bangor-is-y-coed in Welsh – is not to be confused with the cathedral city of Bangor 60 miles away near Anglesey. (Though the similarity of the names has been used to their advantage by more than one trainer who, before mobile phones, avoided awkward scrutiny from the racecourse stewards over heavily gambled, surprise results by insisting they had gone to the ‘wrong’ Bangor.)
This left-handed, jumps-only track, where legendary 19thcentury jockey Fred Archer rode his first winner at the age of 12, is unique among racecourses in that it has no stand, but a bank provides its own natural viewing and the facilities receive increasingly good reviews. Unlike the powerhouse rugby
club whose ground at The Rec is within easy walking distance of the historic city centre of Bath, the racecourse is four steep miles north, high up on Lansdown Hill, with a panoramic vista across large swathes of south-west England. And ‘high up’ is key to this left-handed track’s status as being a favourite among trivia connoisseurs: at 780 feet above sea level, it is the highest flat racing course in the country.
Because of its position (and somewhat ironically when you think about it), Bath has no watering system, so summer conditions are usually quick, and a rising gradient late on provides more of a stamina test than some expect.
Although the picture postcard priory village of Cartmel, set very much off the beaten track in glorious Cumbrian surroundings, is now a regularly accessed foodie destination, its remoteness made the racecourse central to perhaps the best-known betting coup of
the modern(ish) era. Those smashing into Gay Future on an August Bank Holiday fixture in 1974 made full use of the lack of communications, particularly the absence of a ‘blower’ system –transmitting news of off-course bets back to the track so that odds could be adjusted – to ensure the best SP for their nationwide plot.
This left-handed, National Hunt-only course specialises in
frequently weather-beaten hill where they have raced, nine miles down the A38 from the city, since the mid-18th century. Then came ‘Devon and Exeter’, an historic title widely used around the county but dismissed for being confusing in a 1990s rebrand.
Back then, despite the course staging the prestigious Haldon Gold Cup, there was a feeling that considering its attributes, this
Just arriving at Hexham is a wow moment, like being on the ‘roof’ of Northumberland
holiday fixtures, and vast, picnicking crowds are regularly the largest in the country for a venue of its type. It has become traditional for the winners’ prizes to include internationally renowned sticky toffee puddings manufactured just beyond the back straight.
Few, if any, tracks can have had quite as many official names as Exeter. Once it was ‘Haldon’, after the wooded, furze-dotted and
galloping, undulating, righthanded National Hunt circuit was not punching its weight. Since then, however, with progressive management and strong support from owners, trainers and regulars, Exeter’s reputation could now hardly be higher.
Times have changed since owners used to only half-jokingly grumble that they had to travel to one of the four Fs – Fakenham, Folkestone, Fontwell or f***ing
Plumpton – to have any chance of seeing their less distinguished horses win. While Folkestone is long-closed, Fontwell and Plumpton do racing on either side of Sussex proud and Fakenham is seen as a shining example of what an independent racecourse can achieve for all.
In this verdant corner of north Norfolk, they have invested impressively in prize money, and the course is ever better established in the community. Meanwhile, jockeys must be alert about counting the number of laps on a tight, left-handed circuit, barely one mile round.
When debating britain’s most picturesque racecourses, Goodwood and Cheltenham tend to top the polls. Views of the Forest of Dean and River Severn ensure Chepstow scores well too, but, Hexham does not always get the recognition it deserves. Perhaps racing is too southerncentric, because just arriving is a wow moment, like being on the
It’s not all about Ascot, Cheltenham, Goodwood and York – Cornelius Lysaght celebrates the charms
‘roof’ of Northumberland, with the stiff, left-handed, jumps track fitting in around the contours below, and then miles of green and rugged NE England beyond. It is places like Hexham which ensure variety is a byword for British racing.
There is not enough room here to include both Kelso and Wincanton, but no matter –they can act as one. Kelso is an enchanting rural course with good-quality jumping, serving a knowledgeable, quite tweedy horsey community in the Scottish Borders; Wincanton is an enchanting rural course with good quality jumping, serving a knowledgeable, quite tweedy horsey community in Somerset.
At Kelso they go left-handed and the stand is an architectural wonder, and Wincanton is righthanded, sharper and even earthier than its cousin, but apart from that the similarities are multiple –though, come to think of it, ITV’s love affair with Kelso might soon
get its own mini-series. The key is the locals – they adore the horses, and the race to get a decent preparade ring position is never the easiest of the day.
HE RACING POST writer
TDavid Ashforth once described Perth racecourse, on the banks of the Tay in the grounds of Scone Palace, as “a little piece of heaven”. It is hard to argue on days when the skies are blue and runners and riders are arriving down the tree-lined access road, with pheasants enjoying game shooting’s offseason and strutting their stuff through adjacent fields.
Of the 13 race-days on this right-handed NH course in 2025, the three April afternoons of the Perth Festival stand out, the prize money of more than £300,000 ensuring Britain’s most northerly course is a racing outpost only geographically speaking. And we are talking a proper festival, with
the action on the track long-oddson to spill over joyously into Perth’s welcoming night-spots.
The golden rule about driving to the races at Salisbury is not to be tempted into Salisbury itself; the course is located four miles away at Netherhampton and can take a bit of finding. But once there, what a treat: the tranquil, civilised summer flat racing vibe would give anywhere a run for their money to match King Edward VII’s “garden party with racing tacked on” description of Goodwood.
Although the course is technically right-handed, runners in the longest races start facing ‘the wrong way’ up the straight before navigating a loop and returning in the other direction.
It was at Salisbury in 1979, during a spring deluge, that Steve Cauthen, US racing’s wonderkid, made his British debut before going on to become a jockey icon on this side of the Atlantic too.
The North Yorkshire town of
BRITAIN’S LOST RACECOURSES
BROMFORD BRIDGE
BIRMINGHAM
14 June 1895 – 21 June 1965
Once home to the world’s longest bar, Bromford Bridge was Birmingham’s postwar pleasure dome. With its own train station and a 334ft watering hole in the middle, it pulled punters by the thousand.
ALEXANDRA PARK LONDON
30 June 1868 – 8 September 1970
Nicknamed the Frying Pan, Ally Pally was a chaotic array of tight turns, dodgy views and fish & chips. Evening meetings drew crowds of 10,000-plus, and John McCririck asked to have his ashes scattered there.
CASTLE IRWELL SALFORD
26 May 1847 – 9 November 1963
Salford’s foggy field of dreams lay in a bend in the River Irwell. Off-course betting was illegal, so the local bookie did business in the shadows. Spotters watched for police, fines were paid, and racing rolled on.
HURST PARK SURREY
19 March 1890 – 10 October 1962
A riverside gem near Hampton Court, Hurst Park had it all – profit, punters and pedigree turf – so pedigree that Ascot bought it for its National Hunt course. Now all that remains is a pair of brick gate posts.
GATWICK SURREY
7 October 1891 – 21 April 1948
Before engines on the runway, it was the hum of hoofbeats you could hear at Gatwick. Three substitute Grand Nationals were run here during the war, and the final meeting drew a crowd of 20,000.
Thirsk has a much-loved profile around the world as the model for Darrowby, home of the veterinary practice in the James Herriot novels, and the local racecourse is proud to have played its part in the best-selling stories. Both Herriot (real name: Alf Wight) and Siegfried Farnon (Donald Sinclair) performed professional duties on race-days, as well as at stables across Yorkshire, in the process providing all kinds of ideas for the author.
Were Wight or Sinclair able to return to the flat racing at Thirsk, they would still find arable farming aplenty on the way in, and then a racecourse holding its head high, updated – the James Herriot hall is a popular new multi-purpose facility – but also retaining much of the familiar charm of yesteryear, not least the highly distinctive, ivy-clad Hambleton Stand. n
Cornelius Lysaght is Fitzdares’ Racing Ambassador
Unsure who to look out for at the Women’s Euro 2025 in Switzerland? Former England goalkeeper Karen Bardsley is here to help, picking out 11 players from 11 nations
LAUREN JAMES ENGLAND
CHELSEA MIDFIELD/FORWARD
Profile: James is a tricky dribbler with an eye for the spectacular. Her silky skills and relaxed demeanour mean that she can find dangerous space, effortlessly glide around defenders, and catch goalkeepers out with her exquisite ball-striking ability from both feet.
Fun fact: James’s brother Reece plays for Chelsea and England.
SYDNEY SCHERTENLEIB SWITZERLAND
BARCELONA MIDFIELD
Profile: A tall, physical and skilful player, Schertenleib has great ball control and can glide past defenders, smooth as you like. With two cultured feet, she’s capable of taking the game by the scruff of the neck, particularly for Switzerland, where she’s likely to have a free role in midfield.
Fun fact: When first contacted by Barcelona, she wasn’t sure what to think. She said: “Barça reached out to me via an Instagram direct message – I thought at first it was a fake.”
JESS FISHLOCK WALES
SEATTLE REIGN MIDFIELD
Profile: Fishlock is a resourceful and unpredictable attackminded player. She is hard-working, competitive and deeply proud of her Welsh roots. As this will quite likely be her first and last major tournament, she and the rest of the Welsh team have a real belief they can upset the apple cart.
Fun fact: Fishlock became the first player to earn 100 caps for the national team way back in 2017, before passing 150 caps in 2024.
MARIONA CALDENTEY SPAIN ARSENAL MIDFIELD/FORWARD
Profile: After ten years at Barcelona, this versatile creator and goalscorer moved to Arsenal in July 2024. Her ability to slice open an opposition’s defence on the dribble or with a wellweighted, penetrative through-ball is a constant threat.
Fun fact: Her father Miguel Angel (‘Morete’) co-founded the largest Barcelona supporters’ club in the Balearic Islands.
TESSA WULLAERT BELGIUM INTER MILAN FORWARD
Profile: As Belgium’s top goalscorer, Wullaert is the barometer by which you can gauge their form. Her unique blend of guile, outstanding technical ability (with both feet) and lightning pace makes her a handful for centre backs and full backs alike – and she can be lethal on the counter-attack and a driving force on both sides of the ball.
Fun fact: She founded GRLPWR, a female empowerment movement, offering coaching and tournaments for young girls.
KAROLINA LEA VILHJALMSDOTTIR ICELAND BAYER LEVERKUSEN (ON LOAN) MIDFIELD/FORWARD
Profile: Here is a determined playmaker with an engine. Her vision and ball control allows her to thread passes and get teammates into goal-scoring positions. Capable of adding goals, particularly from the edge of the area makes her an allround threat from central and wide areas.
Fun fact: Vilhjalmsdottir cites Ronaldo as her footballing hero, adding that she’d like to quiz him about his fitness programme.
GURO REITEN NORWAY
CHELSEA MIDFIELD/FORWARD
Profile: Often deployed on the left, Chelsea’s playmaker is equally comfortable in the 10 role or even as a striker. Her ability to spot a pass and deliver it with the perfect weight means she can create a chance from pretty much nothing. Similarly, the timing of her runs into the box, ball striking from live play and dead balls suggest she’s got a real sense for goal.
Fun fact: Reiten was a 2023 Ballon d’Or Féminin nominee.
VIVIANNE
NETHERLANDS MANCHESTER CITY FORWARD
Profile: Since moving from Arsenal to Manchester City in the summer of 2024, Miedema has been in fine form. She seems to have endless, effortless creativity, ruthless finishing and a winning mentality. That enabled her to become the WSL’s alltime leading goalscorer.
Fun fact: Miedema’s cocker spaniel, Myle, has an Instagram account (@mylemeadema) with more than 40,000 followers.
MARIE-ANTOINETTE KATOTO FRANCE
PARIS SAINT-GERMAIN FORWARD
Profile: An intelligent forward, Katoto can easily break defensive structures with her timing and movement. Her ability to create one-on-one situations is where she excels. Katoto is more than just a superb goalscorer – she’s a complete forward.
Fun fact: Katoto has Congolese heritage but was born in France and is a graduate of PSG’s youth academy graduate; she’s the team’s all-time top scorer.
Profile: Gwinn is a classy, attack-minded defender who is powerful in possession and can be deadly in front of goal. Her quick feet, ball control, intelligence and tenacity make her key to Bayern Munich and the perfect leader for Germany.
Fun fact: Gwinn came back from missing the 2023 Women’s World Cup due to a second anterior cruciate ligament injury to star in the 2024 Paris Olympics, when Germany took bronze.
EWA PAJOR POLAND BARCELONA FORWARD
Profile: Now starring for Barcelona after a prolific spell at Wolfsburg, Pajor is a proven goalscorer whose speed, clever movement and clinical finishing helped her net 33 goals in 35 games for the Spanish giants. Pajor will be a key player this summer as she leads Poland in their first major tournament.
Fun fact: Pajor used two long periods of absence to mount an in-depth study of the game’s best strikers, in prep for her return.
MIEDEMA
TRIP HAZARDS
Nothing beats a Lions tour – but Australia takes its toll on players, as Jason Leonard explains
LIONS TOUR OF AUSTRALIA used
Ato be a very different beast. Back in the day, I’d be sat there on the back of the bus, travelling hundreds of miles between the grounds, and it would literally take me three or four days to get over it. These days, it’s a lot more professional. All the lads will be flying business class… some of the bigger players might even get into first. I definitely could have done with that back then!
Any tour to the southern hemisphere has its challenges, but Australia is unique in the sense that it’s huge. It’s unlike anything else you experience as a player, and getting between the grounds presents a real issue. Travelling from Brisbane to Melbourne and then on to Sydney can leave you running on empty. That’s before you even consider the physical toll of playing every three days for the best part of six weeks. Your matches are Wednesday, Saturday, Wednesday, Saturday, so you’ve always got one bag ready to go as you know you’re not going to be in the same place for long.
The schedule is hard, fast and intense. If your first game of the tour is on a Saturday, you’re going to have one day off, which maybe a Tuesday, let’s say. Then you’ve got a captain’s run-through on Thursday, a light training session on Friday and on to game day for the Test match on Saturday evening.
Sunday morning is reserved for a debrief after some sort of rehab session.
That will either be in the pool, a light run or a cycle and then that’s it, you’re back on the plane again jetting off to your next destination to get acclimatised to your environment for the game on Wednesday. The logistical planning that goes into a tour is just immense.
It’s not just the travelling and how draining that can be, though. You’re up against the elements as well, right from the get-go. People will tell you it’s Australia’s
carriers. Therefore players like Ben Earl and Henry Pollock might be particularly important. Their power, agility and attacking instincts are tailor-made for a Lions tour. On the flip side, the “tackle machines” like Tom Curry and Jac Morgan, who aren’t necessarily quite as mobile, might have to settle for the bench or play more of a part in the midweek games.
The faster pitches won’t diminish the high ball, though. It will be interesting to see how the Lions match up to the chief aerial threat of Joseph Sua’ali’i, who looks
Players spend four years taking chunks out of each other in the Six Nations or in the autumn internationals, and then you’re expected to be united as a team to take on what is one of the world’s major rugby nations, on their own patch.
winter, but it feels like our summer, only hotter and more humid. The pitches are also usually very hard. Domestically, we spend our whole seasons playing on soft, wet pitches – conditions that naturally slow the game down. But over there it’s a different story – the ball zips around, the tempo lifts, and everything becomes much more dynamic.
These harder pitches suit the more explosive, mobile forwards, particularly the powerful back-rowers who thrive as ball
like he should make it back in time following a fractured jaw. I think you’ll see the visitors look to flood their back line with plenty of height to nullify that threat.
With that in mind, Huw Jones is a likely starter, or you might see Blair Kinghorn –who boasts brilliant defensive qualities –drop in at centre after he’s tied up a few loose ends with Toulouse. That could pave the way at full back for Hugo Keenan, who we know is brilliant in the air, given his GAA connections.
And then you’ve got to deal with the crowd. It’s all very different when you head down to New Zealand or South Africa. There, rugby is a religion. It’s the number one sport, all that matters. Down Under, Aussie rules takes precedence, but don’t let that fool you. The Aussie crowd know how to give it to the travelling players... and the fans to create a really hostile environment.
Back when I was playing, it was incredibly one-sided. These days, the lads will have 30,000-40,000 rugby-mad British and Irish fans heading out to cheer them on and get behind the team. And they’ll need them. A Lions series in Australia doesn’t get much more intimidating.
The biggest challenge of all, though, comes from within our own camp. Andy Farrell and his backroom team are tasked with bringing four nations together and trying to mould a team. The players spend four years taking chunks out of each other in the Six Nations or in the autumn internationals, and then you’re expected to be united as a team to take on what is historically one of the world’s major rugby nations, on their own patch.
The bottom line is everyone wants to play. These lads aren’t used to sitting on the bench when playing for their countries. There are some great players in this Lions squad. Just look at the back row, for
example. We’re blessed with so much strength in depth there when you look at the likes of Earl, Pollock, Curry and Josh van der Flier, but someone is going to have to make way. They can’t all make the starting XV. Thankfully, Andy’s been on Lions tours before, so he knows what he needs. He’s obviously done an unbelievable job with Ireland and he’s the perfect man for the job.
Early on you’ve got to set your stall out that no one is more important than the team. Captain Maro Itoje will also play a huge role in that – creating that culture that it’s not about you as an individual, it’s about the collective unit. All the best Lions in my experience have been able to put the squad above themselves. Of course, having good players is critical, but it’s equally important to have good people in the group.
That’s also critical for the debutants in there. Creating an environment for them to flourish is a key component of any Lions tour. The piece of advice I would give to youngsters such as Pollock, Tommy Freeman and Fin Smith is to enjoy the experience this summer.
IT ’ S NOT JUST ABOUT THE PLAYERS ’s –it’s the coaches, the array of backroom staff as well as the fans of course. You want them to come away thinking, “Bloody hell, that was a great Tour!” and creating an experience that you can look back on for years to come with really fond memories. Of course, winning helps with that! But first and foremost, get the environment right and everything else will follow.
Being a Lion is right up there for me with winning a World Cup. That’s the magnitude of it. It’s iconic, pulling on that jersey that’s been worn by so many greats before you. You’ve got to live up to that expectation, and that can be a really powerful thing in that dressing room.
As for the result this summer, I’d urge anybody not to get too carried away. I learned early on as a Lion that you don’t underestimate Australia. While they’re in the midst of a rebuild, they came up to the northern hemisphere in November and did a job on England at Twickenham, blew Wales away and were only just touched off by a top-notch Irish side.
They’ll be competitive. I’ve heard plenty of people putting up the away whitewash. I just don’t see that happening. When you look at how many Lions series we’ve actually won, there aren’t that many… It’ll be a lot closer than people think, but I’m backing the lads to get over the line. n
Jason Leonard went on three Lions Tours and is Founder of the Atlas Foundation
Jason Leonard and Jeremy Guscott after the Lions’ 25-16 win vs South Africa in 1997
FIXTURE DATES
1st Test 19 July
Brisbane 11:00
2nd Test 26 July
Melbourne 11:00
3rd Test 2 August
Sydney 11:00
All times BST
Captain Maro Itoje will play a huge role in creating the right environment within the camp this summer
Joseph Sua’ali’i was a critical part of the Wallabies’ successful northern hemisphere tour last year
ROOTED T O
Players come and go, but a football fan’s most enduring love affair is with a team’s stadium,
My romance with Goodison Park began in 1976. It sounds like hyperbole to call it a romance, and perhaps it is, but for almost 50 years of my life the place has been synonymous with passion, disappointment, hope, fulfilment, anxiety, yearning and joy. They write love stories about less.
On the other hand, when a long relationship comes to an end it usually ignites feelings of grief, and of all the swirling emotions I feel about Everton leaving Goodison, its home since 1892, not one of them seems quite as extreme as grief. There’s a piercing sadness, of course, that I will never again make the matchday walk along those familiar terraced streets, towards the blue monolith that, when it rose in the last full decade of Queen Victoria’s reign, was the world’s first purpose-built football stadium.
Yet that sadness is tempered by excitement, such is the shining splendour of the new arena at Bramley-Moore Dock on the banks of the Mersey, and all the commercial possibilities it holds. Besides, every sentient Evertonian knows that the Grand Old Lady, as we are apparently meant to call Goodison (not that I ever have), has long been in her crumbling dotage. If we’re to mix it with the Premier League’s big-hitters on anything like level financial terms, we need competitive matchday income.
But that brings me back to the ‘romance’ word. How incredibly unromantic is the phrase ‘competitive match-day income’ and how much of football’s soul have we lost by making an idol of it?
It’s a little glib to talk about football as a religion, but we have still banged the doors shut on what, for the faithful, were sites of fortnightly pilgrimage. We’ve all seen grainy newsreel footage from the
1930s, we’ve all seen LS Lowry’s evocative painting Going to the Match… what were those multitudes of flat-capped fans if not crowds of worshippers converging on a shrine?
And now those shrines, places such as Highbury, White Hart Lane, Upton Park, Maine Road, are no more. Grounds rooted in the communities that revered them, the likes of Ayresome Park and Burnden Park, Highfield Road and Filbert Street, the Victoria Ground and the Goldstone Ground, the Dell and the Den … all gone.
In truth, misty-eyed nostalgia is not always the best way to remember them. The Baseball Ground, home of Derby County for more than a century, was notorious for its quagmire pitches. Pride Park, which replaced it in 1997, might be short of character but at least the playing surface stays green and crisp and even all season long. And Sunderland fans haven’t lost their reputation for thunderous support since moving from Roker Park to the Stadium of Light, even if the intimidating Roker roar is history (despite the club’s best efforts to keep it alive by renaming the South Stand the Roker End).
It helps to remember, too, that the catalyst for the closure of many of football’s beloved old grounds was the Taylor Report into the Hillsborough disaster. The sparkling all-seater stadium might be considered an affront to tradition, but tradition isn’t always everything it’s cracked up to be.
Moreover, the painful separation of football from its roots can’t just be blamed on the switch from old stadiums to new. After all, plenty of clubs have stayed put. For now, at least, Manchester
United, Liverpool, Aston Villa, Nottingham Forest, Leeds United, Burnley and many more are still in their long-occupied homes. No, there are myriad other factors: local lads no longer playing for their home-town clubs, outrageous hikes in ticket prices, overseas billionaires adding English clubs to their portfolios of ‘assets’… you name it.
Still, despite all these negative changes, all the botched cosmetic surgery on the face of the Beautiful Game, millions of us retain an unwavering emotional investment in the clubs we follow. For obvious reasons, those emotions are inextricably, almost umbilically attached to the place where we have most often watched them play, which for me is Goodison Park, now of blessed memory.
To prepare for the incalculable wrench of leaving, and the psychological upheaval of having to start afresh somewhere else, I sought reassurance from a few friends who have suffered the same torment. Alas, they weren’t the slightest bit reassuring.
Lifelong Manchester City fan Colin Shindler, author of the bestseller Manchester United Ruined My Life, advised me never to return to Goodison, whatever becomes of it. In 2003, about six months after City left Maine Road, Colin decided to swing by the club’s former home, just for old times’ sake.
“I don’t know what I was expecting to find,” he recalls now, “but to my horror the main stand had gone. It felt like a desecration, and it really scarred me. So don’t do that. The thing is, memories of a ground build up over a lifetime, and I don’t have another lifetime to spare. I’ve tried to like the new place [evidently he can’t bring himself even to say
‘the Etihad’], but it’s soulless. I started going to Maine Road in 1956, when Bert Trautmann was coming back from a broken neck. Even getting there was part of the ritual, not seeing the stadium at all when you got off the bus, then suddenly seeing this cathedral loom up. The new place looks like a shopping mall. It induces no feelings whatsoever.”
My pal Frank Warren, the boxing promoter, for years felt much the same about the Emirates stadium. A lifelong Arsenal fan, he tried to cauterise the pain of leaving Highbury by buying a handsome duplex in the old West Stand. It didn’t work. When Arsenal moved to the Emirates in 2006, Frank’s company snapped up the first corporate box there, and very plush it is too, but he says it took almost 20
years for him to feel entirely at home. “When we beat Real Madrid 3-0 [in April, in the first leg of the Champions League quarter-final], the atmosphere that night was incredible,” he says. “It was as good as Highbury had ever been. But that’s the first time I’ve felt that.”
It’s dispiriting to think that it might take two decades for Bramley-Moore to feel like Goodison on all cylinders, but then in Everton’s case there are other issues to consider. The club has been so long in the doldrums that a revival under ambitious and well-heeled new owners, with the astute David Moyes back in charge, might make the move feel less disorientating.
How incredibly unromantic is the phrase ‘competitive match-day income’ and how much of football’s soul have we lost by making an idol of it?
GROUND ZERO STADIUMS THAT WERE NEVER BUILT
POTTY POMPEY
In 2007 Herzog & de Meuron unveiled a £600 million waterside stadium concept for Portsmouth, with sweeping curves and plunging details (left). But the dreams proved bigger than the budget.
SIAMESE STADIUM
A 2010 proposal might have seen Anfield and Goodison Park replaced with a ‘Mersey StadiaConnex’. Two new stadiums would have been conjoined underground.
EXPLOSIVE AMBITION
Dinamo Zagreb once flirted with the idea of building a stadium inside a volcano. The Blue Volcano would have boasted eco-credentials and seating for 55,000, topped by a hovering blimp.
I talked, too, to Stoke City diehard Nick Hancock, once the presenter of They Think It’s All Over, for whom it really did seem all over in May 1997, when his club left the Victoria Ground after a stay of almost 120 years. Nick started going with his grandfather in the 1969-70 season and vividly recalls the thrill of hearing grown-ups swearing incontinently. That, and clouds of pipe smoke, and fans stamping on the wooden floor of the stand, are what he remembers best. He echoes Colin Shindler, lamenting that part of the club’s soul was left behind when Stoke moved to the Britannia Stadium.
“Something has definitely been lost,” he says. “But then it hasn’t been lost to anyone under the age of 30.” Maybe, all things considered, that is the most significant point. For the next generation of football fans, Goodison Park will just be a place old codgers reminisce about. Eventually there will be a new highlights reel, and it might yet be a match for the one we carried away from Goodison.
But in the short or even medium term, there are are a number of huge emotional hurdles to overcome, and Nick has a warning for me. “The trouble,” he says, “is that the agenda is set by the club, and clubs are usually rubbish at that. They’ll decide how to help the fans bed in, and they will be tone-deaf. They’ll give you little plastic things to bang, to create an atmosphere. Or they’ll put a shirt on every seat saying, ‘Welcome to your new home.’ And it will feel awkward, and all wrong.”
I hope Everton might be more savvy than that and recognise that these things can’t be forced. Whatever happens, I will take my seat at the new stadium with memories of the old one that are inviolably, immortally precious: from October 1978, for example, squeezed into my usual spot on the Gwladys Street terraces, squinting into hazy autumn sunshine as Andy King scored the spectacular only goal in the Merseyside derby to beat the old enemy for the first time since the Upper Paleolithic period, or so it seemed at the final whistle.
They can take Goodison away from me, but they can’t take that. And what’s more, thousands of others remember it too. That’s what I must cling to, the idea that the true value of a club lies not in its manager or players, nor in its bricks and mortar, concrete and steel, but in those of us who wear the scarf. n
Brian Viner is a journalist, author, and the film critic of the Daily Mail
BATTERSEA BLOWOUT
In 2012, Roman Abramovich submitted plans to redevelop the Power Station into a futuristic 60,000-seater stadium (above). But, like Roman’s empire, the Blues’ Battersea bid went up in smoke.
CIRCUS ACT
In March 2025, Jim Ratcliffe unveiled plans that reimagined Old Trafford as the big top of football. A £2 billion arena beneath a gigantic umbrella, flanked by a huge plaza and its own personal Wembley Way.
says Everton supporter Brian Viner
John Inverdale analyses the mental torture that sets golf apart from other sports
THE DUST HAS LONG since settled, but the memories remain. Four shots clear. Even he can’t blow that. Watch just one more hole and then we’ll turn in. There is work tomorrow, after all. That last hour at Augusta in April will be talked about as long as the game of golf is played. How Rory McIlroy won it and lost it repeatedly, and how innumerable people across the land, but especially in Northern Ireland, kept saying “one more hole” until they gave in and stayed up into the small hours to savour every last drop of a remarkable sporting tragiromcom with a happy ending.
So as Rory goes home for the Open at Royal Portrush to be acclaimed by what is bound to be an almost hysterical populace, it’s time to reopen the perennial bar-room debate about what is the hardest individual sport to be totally and utterly brilliant at. It’s not just about talent or skill or aptitude or strength, or any combination thereof. It’s about something else that lies within. That lies within Rory McIlroy.
Because golf is a very strange sport. It would never be invented today in our quick-fix-centric T20 world. It lasts four and a half hours (if you’re lucky), during which time you actually ‘play’ golf for four and a half minutes. There’s no rhythm, no tempo, no cadence to a round of golf. You hit the ball as and when required and, in between times, there are 250 minutes or so to worry about whether you locked the front door, left a bowl of
water out for the dog, or the rights and wrongs of whether you should be considering putting your grandparents in a care home. And then with everyone watching just you, and after an interminable wait while your idiot playing partner fishes his ball out from the lake, fluffs his chip and has a putt further than you had eight minutes earlier, you are called upon to focus like almost no other sport. A six-foot putt for immortality or ignominy.
It is that lack of rhythm that sets golf apart. Luke Littler is a phenomenon, but he knows that every minute or so he will be called on to deliver three darts. It’s a routine. It’s pretty one-dimensional. But it’s still staggering in its quality of execution. There is the natural ebb and flow of a boxing contest. Similarly with tennis. What about table tennis, you say? Or cycling. Or skiing. Or sailing, or indeed anything else that floats your boat.
Golf is a very strange sport. It would never be invented today in our quickfix-centric T20 world
Which brings us back to Rory. I was introduced to his family at the Open at Carnoustie in 2007. Everyone in the game had said the precocious teenager was special, but his folks batted that suggestion away in the way that parents who know their child IS special do. And so as golf followers we have watched that special young man become a statesman of the sport, to the point where a few weeks ago he faced the most acid of tests. A last round that included an opening tee shot into a bunker, a crazily simple shot into the water, a missed putt on the 18th, interlaced with some ballstriking that defied most laws of physics, never mind golf.
Those shots on the 15th and 17th and on the first extra hole (all indelibly etched into golf fans’ minds) were astonishing not just in their execution, but also in their evolution from first tentative thought to shaft of brilliance through the air. This wasn’t Federer instinctively flashing a forehand down
the line, or Lara spearing a cover drive, or even Messi finding the top corner. Those things happen in the blink of a blink.
For Rory and Tiger and Jack and Arnie and Ben and Gene – the other members of golf’s ultimate boy band –it’s been largely about spending hours, thousands of them, doing precisely nothing in pursuit of their athletic Everest. Nothing except thinking and musing and pondering and wondering. And walking. And waiting. None of which count as a ‘sport’, which is why, in the final analysis, golf may be the hardest to be utterly brilliant at. It’s so much more than playing the game.
And so, after believing for the past decade and more that Sir Andy Murray is the greatest British sportsperson born in my lifetime, maybe it’s time for a rethink. And that of course takes us on to another bar-room debate… n
John Inverdale is a broadcaster and sports administrator
par putt on 18, Els had his second Claret Jug.
1999
The Frenchman (right) led by three shots on the final tee at Carnoustie, but disaster followed. After an errant drive, he inexplicably opted for a two-iron to the green, only to ricochet off the grandstand into thick rough. He then found water and a bunker on his way to a triple bogey. He’d go on to lose to Paul Lawrie in a playoff.
GREG NORMAN
1996 MASTERS
Norman already had a history of blowing major leads, but his most infamous failure came here at Augusta. He led the Masters by six strokes heading into Sunday but a final round 78 saw him surrender his lead by the famous 12th hole. Waiting in the wings was England’s Nick Faldo, who shot a 67 to win by five shots.
ADAM SCOTT 2012 OPEN
A birdie at the 14th took Scott four shots clear with four to play at Royal Lytham & St Annes, setting the Australian up for his first major title. But three straight bogeys for Scott and a birdie at the last by Ernie Els saw the lead evaporate, and when Scott then missed an eight-foot
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For the first time in 20 years, JUMPS RACING returned to WINDSOR – and of course, we were there to mark the moment. We took up our usual residency in the Churchill Suite, entertaining our Members as this season’s Cheltenham Festival hopefuls put the finishing touches on their prep at the Winter Million Meeting. See you all on course throughout the Summer Sprint Series!
In May, we joined our pals at Investec for the Alfred Dunhill PADEL CLASSIC at The Hurlingham. Team Investec, with Peter Crouch (who was hard to lob), won the Plate! Guests included Michael Vaughan, Thiago, Sam Billings, Sir Andrew Strauss, Michael McIntyre, Bryan Habana.
As tradition dictates, we raised a glass to the finest week in the racing calendar for our annual CHELTENHAM EVE DRINKS at Naunton Downs. With roaring fires and lively racing chat, it was the calm before the Cotswold storm. Members gathered in customary style, in the shadow of Cleeve Hill, setting the tone for what proved to be another unforgettable Festival week.
In April we launched the Fitzdares World Of Sport podcast – have you heard?
When we decided to launch a podcast, we could have played it safe and brought in a panel of raging celebrity pundits to rant about VAR for a couple of hours every week. That sort of thing seems to do quite well these days. But that’s not us.
We love sport, you see. We love talking about it, and we particularly love listening to people who can tell us things that we don’t already know. So each week ex-Arsenal footballer and sports obsessive Adrian Clarke is joined by our own Lola Katz Roberts and Henry Beesley to preview the weekend’s major sporting events.
They’re joined by experts like Cornelius Lysaght, John Inverdale, Ted Knutson and Steve McManaman. We talk sport, odds, exchange predictions and no-one has started a Twitter storm (yet). It’s part preview, part chat – with zero shouting and no one trying to go viral. New episodes drop every Thursday.
Scan the QR code to listen to the FIZDARES WORLD OF SPORT
SUMMERREAD
Neil Atkinson’s masterful ode to the recent fortunes of Liverpool FC is about far more than just one man
You should never judge a book by its cover.
Because when I picked up this book in September 2024, I thought it was going to be about Jürgen Klopp and consequently didn’t pick it up again until Friday 2 May 2025 – five days after Liverpool FC had just secured a 20th league title on the most perfect sun-soaked afternoon of football I have ever seen, and almost a year after Klopp left Anfield.
I thought the book was going to be nostalgic – like stepping back in time and rewinding fist bump by glorious fist bump the nine-year tenure of the greatest living manager in Liverpool’s history. But I couldn’t have been more wrong, and with the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had picked up this book much sooner.
This isn’t actually a book about Jürgen Klopp, as the cover suggests – Neil Atkinson writes that it is “a book about loving football and everything the game can offer”. It is the modern answer to Fever Pitch, and once its objectives become clear it opens out into a brilliant tract on what it’s like to live this game of ours, which gathers momentum with every chapter.
In Atkinson’s own words: “I wanted to play with the idea of a text which took the emotional prism of the Klopp era and invited the
reader (you) to be a live character and be able to choose or recollect adventures; and here I want you to be able to find your own conclusion, to look into your own mirror, to find your own theory of what you think the game is and who it is truly for.”
There is nothing nostalgic about it – in fact, in many ways this book is about the future, a call to action for football fans everywhere. Because everyone should read this
There
is nothing nostalgic
about it – in fact, in many ways this book is about the future, a call to action for football fans everywhere.
book, not just Liverpool fans. Of course, Klopp is everywhere; his warmth, his wit, his words, but so is Atkinson – there is a hell of a lot of Atkinson in this book.
That’s a good thing, because he writes superbly about football, and also about being “dancing animals. But brilliant ones” that are “attracted to seeing and sharing other brilliant ones in action”. For every chapter about the games
themselves, Atkinson dovetails it with the harder stuff. He doesn’t mince his words, but he’s not a bully either, and every opinion has just the right amount of care mixed with gravitas to get you exactly where he wants you to be by the end.
There is reflection on the effects of the pandemic, on the state of the game, on three o’clock kick-offs and terrestrial TV. It is never dull because there is always more to add, and when Atkinson has ushered you through the serious stuff, there is the glorious release of the fun. Of the sport, the adrenaline and the passion: “I want this not to stop […] Longing on a large scale is what makes history. The history Liverpool can make is not the history happening elsewhere in the country but is the history of a city, the history of a state of mind, the history of thousands of people in one place, the history of millions around the world, the history of our lives and our moments and our rhythms, our needs and wants.”
This is a football book first and foremost, but it is also a life book. The best kind, the kind that reminds you why you do the things you do and who and what you do them for. This summer, give it a go. n
TRANSFORMER is published by Canongate Books (£20).
