Autumn Warmth For Jimmy And His Boy

I tip Jimmy Deans a filly I like at Deauville, knowing full well that an appreciation of Un Homme et une Femme will follow; let’s just say he knows his films and leave it at that.

It’s good to see him, though. When Baileys Irish Cream was in its infancy and he had the pub in Hounslow all those years ago the blackjack was giving him plenty of 3am thoughts, the kind of thoughts that ‘hobby’ punters never have to endure, and by 1989 it had all but finished him. That was when the ground came right for Coppermill Lad at Goodwood. It was only a drop in the ocean but it kept him going for a while and my shirt was so damp I couldn’t distinguish between the rain and the sweat. You can suffer for other people.

Jimmy looked in poor shape then but he was grateful and made a few of the usual resolutions. When I bumped into him outside the Regency in Brighton a few years ago he was in rented accommodation, gave the horses only a quick glance most mornings and hadn’t sat down at a blackjack table for a long, long time. I believed him and it was good to hear that his boy, ‘my boy Alex’ as he always referred to him, had come good with financial support. Too late to save the marriage, of course, but there was a bond with his boy that outside forces couldn’t sever.

You don’t need me to tell you about blackjack, the ‘sophisticated’ (as if) game of pontoon or twenty-one. Tell people about a cruel yet predicable twist of fate and you’ll soon see their eyes slip from yours to a neutral area over your shoulder on the off chance that someone more interesting has entered the room. It’s like telling them your dreams; if they concentrate for more than a few seconds they probably want something you’ve got. Where blackjack is concerned, you’ll engage them a bit longer by mentioning Tom Parker  –  ‘Colonel Tom’ who drove Elvis Presley’s career on its lucrative but ultimately wasteful path  –  and Kerry Packer, who turned international cricket on its head with massive contracts and rebel tours many years ago. Both men made fortunes and gave sizeable amounts back at the tables in the room with no clocks. At least Colonel Tom kept his temper, whereas Packer, who sometimes arranged to play all the boxes as opposed to one or two, tried to heave the whole table over when the dealer, curious but uncaring, turned the killer card.

The late IG Index founder Stuart Wheeler, whose political views became abundantly clear when he donated £5m to the Conservative party having also served as treasurer for UKIP, wanted to include blackjack in the successful gambits listed in his autobiography but the claim is unconvincing. The reason is quite straightforward. American authors have written thoroughly researched books on the mathematical possibilities when any combination of cards turns up. Whichever way you look at it, and talking about a (lengthy) period of time, a good blackjack player may reduce the house’s advantage to around 1 percent, a poor player is probably 5% or even 6% adrift. There is no way around this; it’s a hard mathematical fact.

Jimmy, who would much rather have gone on talking about the glowing sexual chemistry  between Jean-Louis Trintignant and Anouk Aimee, is assailed by a few persistent memories but they cannot hurt him any more. “If you went to Deauville I doubt you’d ever come back,” he says, with just the hint of a smile  –  a gambler partially reprieved, sitting in The Dove, a famous old Hammersmith riverside pub where Graham Greene filled many a fruitful hour and early-comers can watch the Oxford and Cambridge crews battling each other and a tide which threatens to cast them into seriously polluted water.

“No, you’re quite right. In the mornings I’d write my thesis on Proust’s Jockey Club member Charles Swann and every day in August I’d go racing and ponder some missed opportunities. By the way, I believe a former licensee here had a horse or two with Barry Hills but now that Barry’s gone I can’t ask him.

“That filly I mentioned is Miss Attitude, who was stuck out in the middle at Goodwood when all the jockeys wanted to be so close to the nearside rail they were nearly in the grandstand. I think Rob Hornby accepted it and there’s another chance at Deauville in a similar sprint. Typical Channon runner, very good price after a disappointment. Funny off-time though, 1.31, so you’ll need to move sharpish if you’re backing it. Be careful with the price; they’ll offer you 8/1, I think, or SP, which is not the same thing as best price guaranteed, so you have to decide.”

“Blimey. It’s a lot more complicated than blackjack, isn’t it”

“Yes, no doubt about it. But win or lose you won’t be thinking about it at 3am tomorrow. You’re looking pretty chipper, by the way, and give my love to your boy. Last time I saw him we were offering those bandolero belts to go with the Underberg pick-me-ups, a rash move because women always preferred Fernet Branca anyway. But you were great and took them all. It’s just a pity that a week or so later your boy was a spaceman. Stay well, Jimmy.”

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