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Sublimity (near side) comes to challenge.
By Dave Ord
The sun shone on the righteous at Cheltenham, well that's what we'd like to think. After the wettest winter since Noah took to the Ark, the weather was glorious as the most eagerly-anticipated meeting of the season finally arrived. Tuesday marked the crowning of a new hurdling king in Sublimity, but what a strange race it was to watch. Detroit City was beaten after a hurdle and Hardy Eustace was in trouble at halfway. It was left to reigning champion Brave Inca to fight the good fight on behalf of the old guard - but it was no contest. Sublimity - after the departure of Iktitaf - could be called the winner of the Smurfit Kappa Champion Hurdle long before Philip Carberry finally pushed the button after the last. He travelled like the good horse rumour after rumour told us he was. Why didn't we believe he was the real deal? Well it wasn't in the formbook. It is now - and in some style too. The celebrations in the stands were somewhat muted - he clearly wasn't the darling of the punters - but at least his connections partied, and how. I saw the safety stewards practicing for a winners' enclosure invasion on Monday afternoon. Brave young lads they looked too. They soon ran for cover as a bouncing mass of joy hurtled towards them at around 3.30pm on Tuesday. They jumped, they danced, they kissed. It's what winning a Champion Hurdle should mean. I'm not somebody who celebrates with dignity usually but when My Way de Solzen won the Arkle I opted not to bounce or kiss. That was good news for the elderly gentleman who watched the race next to me. Instead a smug grin and cup of instant coffee was all I needed. Others should take note. Elsewhere the Irish won the flag-waving battle again. Robert Thornton, who seems to be England's sole representative, did his home country proud with a monster of a St George as he returned on My Way. Half an hour later though, a tricolor, at least five inches longer, awaited Sublimity. It had his name on it too. You got the impression they were rather expecting this moment in the limelight. In the Centaur the punters watched the big screen, drank and were merry. It was the same story in the Guinness Village. The lawns were packed as racegoers soaked up the sun. Not many were returning home with more money than they left with, those being held up by friends as they swayed gently side to side probably won't make it back, The Festival is a party and we all party in different ways. Instant coffee and lucozade energy pills for me. Something a tad stronger for the Sublimity boys I suspect.
