Down Memory Lane. Part 15. Echoes of Arthur, Scobie, and the Golden Mile.

Ten years ago recalls the passing of past Flat trainer Arthur Budgett which evokes memories of his two Derby winners, Morston and Blakeney- and of his top miler, Derring Do.

For me however, it recalls an incident when a friend and I met up on our holidays in Blackpool.

Both of us were sixteen years old and had previously spent many happy holidays there as young children- when our parents installed us in some cheap boarding house close to Central Railway Station. Memories abound of breakfast with one egg, one rasher of bacon, one tomato, and watered down milk! Tiny rooms with worn out carpets and signs in the front window that advertised “Vacancies” or “No Vacancies”- or sometimes “Hot Running Water!”

As young kids, we didn’t care. All we wanted to do was paddle in the sea; ride the donkeys; play in the sand; and catch a tram to Bispham to go on the motor boats at Uncle Tom’s Cabin.

Now, at sixteen, things were different.

Both of us were mad on horse racing, although we did spend most days in an arcade, playing the slot machines- mostly the horse racing machine where six coloured metal horses ‘jerked’ along a slot. If your horse won, your penny returned threepence. If you backed it for a place, you doubled your money. At one point, the game jammed and the blue number five horse won every time. Frantically we rammed as many pennies as we could into the ‘five slots’ before the race started, and ended up winning about a pound each- before the man came to fix the machine.
Needless to say, we gave it all back!

The day before we were due to go home, we decided to go along the Golden Mile, that interminable stretch of arcades, stalls, amusements, and fortune tellers.
That Gypsy Rosalie, she was red hot! Guess your age for sixpence.
I watched her guess the age of twenty people- by asking them to smile.
She was wrong once! Whether she did it ‘from the teeth’ or ‘wrinkles around the mouth’ I’ll never know.

My friend John suggested we go and see “The Two Headed Monster”- about the only thing we’d never viewed on the Golden Mile.
The large board outside claimed it was “A million years old and discovered in the Amazon.”
We paid our sixpence and trundled in. What did we find?
The biggest con in history! A dirty great big black, papier mache figure in a glass case!
We asked for our money back. The man forcibly told us to f-ck off.

Outside, I turned to my friend John and said.....
“Daylight robbery that place. In fact, the whole Golden Mile’s the same.”

The day after, we bought a Daily Express to look at the horses on the bus home.
It was the July Cup at Newmarket and Lester Piggott was riding the odds-on favourite, Matatina, for his father-in-law, Sam Armstrong.
Lower down the field, Scobie Breasley was riding Daylight Robbery for Arthur Budgett, priced at 100/8.
“John” I said to my friend. “ Daylight Robbery, it can’t lose. It has to be!”

On arriving home, we jumped off the bus and ran up the street to the bookies, ready to put a shilling on Scobie’s horse.
Alas, we were too late! As we entered, the voice boomed out over the loudspeaker..
“ Photo finish at Newmarket between Matatina and Daylight Robbery. Betting on the photo...nine to one on, Matatina.”
The favourite backers cheered, but it took twenty minutes for the result to come.
John and I winced and cursed- we KNEW the result before the race!

I’ll bet Arthur Budgett will smile if he looks down from above and reads this story.
Happy days, Arthur. Thanks for the memory.

 

Yeah, happy memories, Oddy. I remember the gong for dinner. We even stayed in one place next to the railway line. Every time a train went past, the whole room shook!

 

My main memory of Blackpool was when we took our Afghan Hound Bitch and her puppy dog to a Championship show; We stayed at a dog friendly seafront hotel. We joined in their dinner dance and won a spot prize. We didn't have an ensuite and had to use a bathroom down the corridor. On exiting the bathroom, I discovered our puppy had followed me and waited outside. Problem was he was taken short and peed on the carpet in the corridor. We hastily got loads of tissue and soaked it up but, treading away with more tissue to finish it off it was making the floor creak which was making us laugh. Trying to keep each other quiet in case we woke anyone made us laugh even more. But we got away with it. I can't even remember how we got on at the show; pretty sure we didn't win. Lots of happy memories with our show dogs but this post just reminded me of that particular incident