Correction, 2,000 Guineas, The Great Grey Mare & Goodbye Bob.

A correction: The Kentucky Derby is not presented by Longines but by Woodland Reserve. Anyone the wiser?

Today it is 2,000 Guineas Day. A guinea, for the greater wisdom of the young, is £1 and 1-shilling. Or it used to be back in the days of black and white television and before that the Blitz of London and before that when young boys were poked-up chimneys to clear it of soot. The good old days, as us old folk like to think of those faraway days when races were started from barriers, the jockeys could wear spurs and the Daily Mirror was a penny a copy.

15 potential stallions turn-out on the Rowley Mile, with its dip and bushes the only landmarks from stalls to winning post. It is a straight mile, so you will get a better view of the race listening to the commentary on the radio. Be aware, there is rain forecast for this afternoon, so panic may set in if any jockey in a previous race suggests the ground has gone soft. Oh for such inclement weather last weekend! The favourite is Gstaad, trained by Aidan and ridden by Ryan. It may be many decades since a Ballydoyle horse was not favourite for a British classic and a definite 7-years since Aidan last won the 2,000 Guineas. It is possible that Aidan has lost the formula for winning the British 2,000 Guineas, so if you thinking of backing Gstaad you should take that 7-year itch into consideration.

As a fervid hoper of witnessing the small manor woman win a classic, jockey or trainer, my eyes will be on Into The Sky, ridden by Kieran Shoemark and trained at Epsom by Jim Boyle. Now that would be a story worth telling. But, as Ted Walsh famously once said. 'This is Cheltenham not Hollywood.' Though this is Newmarket, of course, a racecourse more likely to crush a dream than to bring one to reality. I have a fancy for prolific winning trainer William Haggas and multi-award winning jockey Tom Marquand and the once winning Needle Match, currently a 18/1 shot, though now almost certain to go out to 33/1 once it is rumoured I have an inkling for him

Yesterday evening something almost unknown occured at Punchestown. The very rich but very nervous Rich Ricci turned around and looked at the big screen for the final two furlongs of the Irish Champion Hurdle as his favourite horse Lossiemouth once more took home the golden trophy. In recent times we have been spoiled by the amount of top-class mares in the sport; evidence that the enhanced mares programme is doing is job, though no reason for allowing connections to go pot-hunting at the Cheltenham Festival rather taking part in the race designed for the best hurdlers in Ireland, Britain or even France.

Where Lossiemouth stands in the pantheon of Champion Hurdlers is hard to judge. By common consent she won a sub-par Champion Hurdle and last evening's  race was akin to a walk-over for her, albeit she beat a former Champion hurdler in the ever-consistent Golden Ace. It is such a pity, and evidence for my belief that mares with a handicap mark that suggests they are Champion Hurdle material should not be allowed to run in the Mares Hurdle at Cheltenham, her connections went pot-hunting since her Triumph Hurdle success rather than taking in a Champion Hurdle when she was aged 5 and 6. Aged 5 it was perhaps the right call to miss the Champion Hurdle but not aged 6, and the evidence of our eyes determined the race she should have taken part in. Mullins must do better or he will never reach his full potential!

Bob Olinger is retired. Brian Acheson's 'third child' is to spend his retirement, no doubt spoiled and indulged, at his owner's farm. As with Honeysuckle, Henry de Bromhead managed to write and produce a script where Bob Olinger finished his active life as a racehorse by winning a Grade 1 at a prestigious festival. And, as with Honesuckle, it was no fluke either, with Bob showing again his superiority over Teahapoo and fending off the late charge by Paul Townend and Jimmy de Seuil to add another 170-euros to his career prize fund. Everyone cross their fingers that Bob gets to enjoy a very long retirement, a privilege the great horses rarely receive.