INSIDE THE CHELTENHAM WEIGHING ROOM The Weighing Room
“By Thursday, you might even hear the words uttered in the sauna, ‘I can’t wait for Uttoxeter…’”
environment becomes emotionally charged very quickly, and this isn’t a room full of cheerful people waiting to play party games. Everyone seems to bring all the gear they own,
from saddles to helmets to Wellingtons, wet kit, jogging gear, riding out gear and a suit to go home in. And then there’s the colours bags, pads, girths and spare equipment for sale, paper teacups and isotonic drinks. The whole place always felt jammed, and with your head full of plans for the week, the area was claustrophobic at times. It’s not that you can’t walk around, but quickly
you will find yourself sitting in someone else’s seat, and whatever anyone tells you, most riders’ patience is thin at the Festival. In my youth, I would sit there ready to ride in the National Hunt chase before most hardened pros had taken their shoes off to ride in the Supreme. And I’d listen. I probably changed three times and ventured to the sauna on four occasions to listen and talk to the people I idolised. I’d be hoping one of my idols might ask what I was riding or stop for a chat. For me, I was like the kid who got to sit on the couch on Christmas Eve and watch Santa come down the chimney. The beauty of youth… before reality kicks in and you understand pressure and disappointment.
22 RACING TV CLUBMAGAZINE Time does move, though, and how each person
sees that environment changes. It is a place that needs characters to keep the mood light, and with the ever-changing world we live in, they did seem to be slimmer on the ground when I leſt than when I entered. Big voices with a touch of wit can lighten the whole place, whether it was deliberate or not and likewise, a stern word can shut the class clown up too. But the hard truth is that only a select few in the room will have a good week, and that feeling of pressure never liſts. Of course, by Tuesday evening, a few will be bouncing, but more will duck straight out the door and disappear home, a move that becomes swiſter for some as the week moves along, and by Thursday, you might even hear the words uttered in the sauna, “I can’t wait for Uttoxeter “. The escape for fresh air to walk the track or talk
in boxes is a holiday from the tension that builds each morning in those walls. The bubbly, excitable atmosphere of the Guinness Village is a world away from the weighing room because, for the majority, the excitement dwindles with each passing race. That room doesn’t build to each daily feature race;
it counts them down in terms of chances leſt to ride a winner. Hope starts to fade with each passing race
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