Direction

In amongst all the angst and other feelings that come with being T-boned by an old woman who decided to do a kamikaze job on my car, I have been thinking more and more about my future racing activities. More than any other outlet, the West Ilsley Stables in England have provided a constant flow of racing enjoyment, year after year. If you win, there's a true sense of joy. If you don't, there's a desire to improve that equals (or betters) my own drive to succeed, and there's never any bullshit.

That's why, win, lose or draw, you know everyone did their bit, and the result we got was the best we were going to get on the day, with a little luck adjusting things one way or the other off this solid base. This is in complete contrast to Japan, where they talk the talk but everything is down to luck or shady business in the end.

So, the decision is to run my own horse with Mick Channon and his lad, Mick Jr - people I respect in so many ways, and folks I can trust in a world that all too often seems to go out of its way to piss me off. Once procured, I will call the beast Godiva's Spirit in honour of my hometown when things get rolling, and whatever happens in the future, as a team, I know we will have given it our best shot. That's all you can ask for, as miracles tend to be out of the control of regular folk...