Five days of Willie? Working for Betfair ain't what it used to be

Royal Ascot / Jack Houghton / 13 June 2008 / Leave a Comment

Jack Houghton used to get paid to go to Ascot, now he must watch all five days of the BBC's coverage to earn his corn. That's nearly a week in the company of everyone's favourite gnome, Willie Carson

There was a time Betfair would organise my life around the big racing festivals: travelling me from Cheltenham to Aintree to Newmarket to York to Epsom to Ascot and onwards. One shebang after another; a privileged rider on racing's merry-go-round.

I just had to "represent" the company. This meant, as far as I could understand, being interviewed by journalists if required. Like the time I wooed Lydia Hislop on Racing UK with a passionate, funny and thought-provoking description of Betfair's photo-finish markets. Heady days. That I can only remember one example of "representing" Betfair perhaps demonstrates the ease of the task. In essence, I was paid to go racing.

When the editors at Betting.Betfair called to ask me to cover Royal Ascot this year then, I thought I was back. I gleefully replied: "I'll dust off the top hat and tails!"

"Uh, that won't be necessary."

"Oh, not the Royal enclosure? No matter. You want a series on the "view from the cheap seats" do you? Great idea. I'll be there."

"Well, not exactly. A view from the cheap seats yes, but we were thinking you could write a daily diary of a BBC viewer, from home. The cheapest seat of all if you like! It's just your sort of thing."

Mmm. This doesn't sound good. A news organisations' top journalists don't usually get asked to cover an event from home do they? I've never heard a BBC newsreader say: "And now over to Kate Adie, who's been following Iraqi insurgency progress on CNN. Kate, what's the view from the sofa?"

No, this is a snub. I bet that weasel Cunningham gets to go; it's just not fair.

Perhaps it's because of that whole fighting incident last time I went to Royal Ascot? I was attending a car park picnic when a brawl started. It was one of the more bizarre things I've seen; lasting about 30 minutes and involving a continuous stream of new actors contributing to each new act. There were even prolonged intervals, for the benefit of weary spectators no doubt, before chaos re-reigned.

At one point a black cab arrived in the middle of proceedings and a man emerged, who immediately began fighting; as if he'd heard there was a brawl going on that he liked the sound of and thought he would travel to it in style. This sounds far fetched, but amidst the farcical hullabaloo of top-hatted-and-tailed men bopping each other on the nose and being handcuffed to railings, it seemed somehow normal.

I should be clear: at no point was I involved in any fighting. When two men started arguing and pushing each other I, of course, did what every British man is trained, from birth, to do. I put my hands up and said: "Come on lads, let's calm down and have a drink." I then realised they were intent on real violence, rather than just a pantomime of pushing, and so quickly removed myself from any potential harm.

The brawl, in all its bizarreness, featured on the front page of The Sun the next day, and there, as bold as Bobby Charlton was I, in the middle of the featured mêlée. Actually, that's not quite true. At the edge of the picture you could clearly distinguish the end of my tails, although my face was thankfully obscured.

You may wonder how I could possibly identify my own set of tails, among so many others, in such a picture? Well, their rakish, peacemaking angle made them unmistakable. They were clearly mine and I can't help thinking the editorial directive to stay at home this year is a direct result of their presence in the picture.

So I'm banished to the couch next week. But I'm upbeat. A wise man, it may have been Sting, once said that: "men go crazy in congregations, they only get better one by one." So it's perhaps best I'll have time for personal reflection whilst watching things unfold on the Beeb.

I'm particularly looking forward to (and I'm sure I'm not on my own here) listening to that effete little prat banging on about things I don't understand (I'm talking about that bloke who does the fashion, not Willie Carson).

But I'll need help in bringing news from the sofa. So if you see something you think funny, interesting, boring; or you have complaint or praise; or perhaps you're just similarly lonely and want to talk to someone; then please post a comment below.