KEY POINTS:
I love Auckland during the festive season. It's quiet, it's calm, there's no one on the roads and you get the feeling everyone has left town.
Until you put on your best dress and hat, and head to the Boxing Day races. And you realise thousands of other Aucklanders have stayed in the city, too, but they've been hiding away until it's showtime at Ellerslie.
The Auckland Racing Club has done a marvellous job in making the Christmas Carnival such a fun day out. For a while there, it looked like a day at the races might go the way of amateur rugby and 6 o'clock closing - just another relic from New Zealand's past. But racing's undergone a renaissance in recent times and for that I think we can thank the ladies.
Girls - young and old - love a chance to dress up and a day at the races gives them the opportunity to justify buying an eye-wateringly expensive outfit. In fact, an economic impact report commissioned by the New Zealand Racing Board estimated that over the three days of the New Zealand Herald Racing Carnival, people spent nearly $5 million. A lot of that was on the ponies but nearly a million dollars went to the city's fashion retailers. And it was the only reason my girl decided to join her grandmother and me for a day's racing. She got to wear a pretty black dress and pinched my fascinator which I've had sitting around for ages - she quite rightly pointed out that I never wear it and I probably never will. Not after that Kath and Kim episode where Kim pointed out that Kath had bits of sick in her fascinator after the girls got pissed at the Melbourne Cup.
So off we went - the three generations - to join the multitudes at Ellerslie. There were hardly any car parks left by three o'clock and the infield was packed with picnickers so Auckland's capricious climate had not deterred racegoers. And the young lovelies in their flimsy frocks and strapless bits of nonsense didn't let the cool wind blowing through the course dampen their spirits, either.
Pride and the knowledge you look sensational keeps a girl warmer than a hand-knitted cardi.
We were in the members stand, and joined friends who had horses racing in the carnival. It was Kate's first attempt at betting. She'd cut the form guide out of the Herald and had $10 with her - all she was going to spend. That's the first rule of gambling, we told her. Decide how much money you want to spend, and be prepared to lose the lot. It's basically a donation, we warned her. There are no dead certs in racing.
We arrived in time for race four, and blow me down, she had a collect. Two each-way on the winner. And then the next. And the one after that. In the feature race, she eschewed Xcellent, the smoking favourite, and went for Sir Slick. Who duly won.
As the horses flashed past the winning post, Kate would check the number on her ticket with the numbers called by the commentator and yep. There it was. If she hadn't picked the winner, she had a couple of bucks for a place on second or third.
In the last race, she decided to go with a rank outsider paying 17 bucks to win. Which, of course, won. It may be the first and last race Butwaitheresmore will ever win, but win it did on Boxing Day. From a kitty of $10, Kate got a return of just over $50. It must be in her DNA. Her dad was an astute punter in his time. I'd always know if he'd had a good day out when he came home limping. He'd put the cash in his sock in case he got mugged and on a couple of memorable occasions he was thousands of dollars taller coming home than he was heading out.
Now Kate's as keen as mustard to get a table during Cup Week. She knows it's beginner's luck, but she's a convert to the excitement and glamour that's the best of racing. And if the Auckland Racing Club is managing to get young ones to see a day at the races as one of their entertainment options, then the future of the sport of kings is assured.
