THE RACE THAT STOPPED A COUNTRY
One of my great memories as a kid is of the Grand National. Everything in Great Britain stopped to watch this race. I put my very first bet on, a whole week’s pocket and milk-round money, about three shillings, and, to this day, I don’t know why I did. I bet on a gray horse called Merryman II. It won. I screamed, shouted, “Hallowed be thy mane!” I had money. About two pounds. Boy, it was a lot then! I went straight to the toy shop and bought an Aston Martin AC3 race car, all green and English, and a green double-decker bus I’d had my eye on. And last but not least, a Mosquito fighter plastic model airplane kit. I was keen on the smell of the glue (er, just kidding . . .).
Childhood memories are great. You just remember them as you get older. And you’re ashamed you ever lost them.