The day of the match against Coventry on the 9th April dawned dull and damp. A fine, mist like rain swept across the bleak out post of western civilisation that is Blunsdon and actually worked to our benefit. I've often commented that we have to work with and around the weather, and often it's a case of trying to ameliorate the effects of the prevailing conditions. On Thursday we found the opposite - a chance to make the weather work in our favour.
The best way to water a track is to have a steady shower dampen it. The moisture is even and consistent and it makes for a great track. Too much and then the problems begin, but on Thursday there was so much ambient moisture in the air that we simply had to make it work to our benefit.
With the air fences up and the catch fencing in place, Gerald was out early with the ripper, digging down into the surface and ripping it up at the start line and on the exits to turns 2 and 4. Normally he would leave this until well into the afternoon and then make sure that there was ample water on hand to wet the freshly turned over material down and then a tractor on hand to lightly pack it back.
Today, with so much moisture in the air he was able to rip very early and let the elements do the rest.
While this track work was going on, and the banners were being cleaned on the centre green, I went round the entire air fence opening up the kickboards at the joins of each pair of air bags. The velcro that we now use to attach the kickboards to the air fence is a real boon - no more endless hours on hands and knees trying to thread hundreds of cable ties - now an entire kickboard can be removed and replaced in less than a minute.
I wanted Mick Richards, who does all our pressure washing, to blast away the grime around the buckles at the base of the air bags so that I could re-attach each one firmly. In all there are 6 sets of buckles at each end of an air bag to keep it tightly clamped to the next bag, and a further 6 attachments to keep it secure with the safety fence behind it.
The buckles at the front are a bit of a nightmare. During a meeting shale tends to fall down between the bags, no matter how tightly they are butted, and this, together with the inevitable amounts of wet stuff thrown towards the kickboards during a match, means that the buckles are often caked in a thick brown slime.
Down on my knees (see the photograph at the top of this blog) I open up each buckle, clear as much of the slime away as possible and then get Mick to blast away any excess.
An hour later, and with significant stiffness in both knees and back, and a liberal top dressing of shale on elbows and knees, all of the buckles have been done up and tightened and the kickboards put back in place.
It's still trying to rain and, although it is clearly chucking it down over the Marlborough Downs, the best we get is a heavy Scotch mist. One factor we do have to watch carefully is the run off from the greyhound track. Moisture gathers in the sand and soon makes its way down under the air bags and across the track. Thankfully, the wooden boards we put up last year at the bottom of the safety fence keep the sand back.
By coffee time at 11am Gerald has loosely packed down the ripped material. The rest of the track is very, very hard and there is a little extra tyre packing today just in case some of the nasty stuff in the locality should descend upon us.
Back in the cosy confines of Number 96 there is much amusement at the state of my overalls. Gerald has a theory that as a child my mother must have kept me well away from mud and that I am over compensating for that now.
It's still wet outside, but it's entirely manageable. Inside conversation turns to tonight's encounter with a Bees' septet who have started the season very well indeed. Despite being made the pundits' favourites for virtually everything this season, we are not a confident group in Number 96. Those who witnessed it, said that the defeat at Wolverhampton on Monday was a bit disappointing and that we could be looking at another Jekyll and Hyde team.
The afternoon preparations are halted only by various friends ringing up to enquire whether the meeting was likely to go ahead. The rain is still in the air but there is little wind and the track surface is looking fine.
I spend half an hour walking round the perimeter of the safety fence, removing any blocks that have been placed between the greyhound rail and the safety fence. Every non moveable item has a car tyre placed against it. I am determined that we will not have a repetition last week's pre match alterations.
By 4.30 the tribe are arriving. Above left we see the three wise monkeys, Andrew Reynolds (Assistant Clerk of the Course), Clive Fisher (announcer) and Mick Hunt (CoC). There's a certain reluctance to pose for the photograph - they know me too well. Clive pulls his cap over his face but is unaware that he's been positioned with a lighting pole apparently sticking out of his head - at long last he can be his own, one man broadcasting station - Radio Fisher!
Elsewhere, statistical guru Robert Bamford is hunting down riders to check and update his exhaustive rider index. He stalks riders in the pits like a hunter on a trail. Suddenly picking up speed, he dashes for a clearing and halts young Ricky Wells in his tracks. With details on inside leg measurement etc. carefully recorded he moves over to the Robins pits. The Sedgeman brothers are in attendance, hopeful of an after meeting spin. But which one is which? Undaunted, Robert rounds both up in one skilful manoeuvre. Breathtaking!
But it doesn't take a mathematical genius to work out that something is amiss in the Robins' camp. Forgetting that we have the Sedgeman's and Richard Sweetman in evidence, there appear to be only 5 Robins. Batch is almost at the stadium but rumours swiftly abound that Ryan Fisher is some 90 miles away, stuck in one of the many motorway hold ups.
Batch arrives but there's no Ryan yet, and he's been a real talisman for the Robins this year, scoring freely, making himself very popular with the fans and the track staff with his affable nature and proving himself to be a real match winner from reserve.
I suddenly realise that I haven't met up with the referee, Graham Reeve, or CoC Mick Hunt. The last couple of weeks the referees have made number of comments about things they would like done. This week I have checked everything and am desperate for a clean bill of health. I find Mick. "Has the ref done his inspection?" "Yes. He finished 10 minutes ago. No problems at all." It's a huge relief.
As the music builds, Mick positions the Robins truck, driven by track staff stalwart Rex Woodruffe, into position. Rosco uses the bonnet as an impromptu set of drums and we are all set for action.
The track is very hard, as hard as I can remember it, and there is clearly a line that can be defended. One a number of occasions a slower rider is able to hold off a much faster follower by sticking to an inside line coming out of turn 4. We all hold out breath as Simon Stead is escorted into the pit gate air panel by a Coventry rider. Relief all round - Steady is unsteady but capable of continuing and the air fence is still sound, although a banner has been shredded by his footrest.
At the end of the meeting we have a practiced session for a number of young riders including the Sedgemans, Richard Sweetman and a a young Gunnestad (I think that's how it's spelt), son of one of the best riders to come out of Norway, Lars. Other famous Norwegian riders include Reidar Eide, Sverre Harfeldt and a certain Rune Holta!
The loose material has all been thrown against the kickboards and the base is exposed. For the first time for a long time there is evidence of a "blue line" on turn 3. This is a layer of rubber put down by the spinning wheels. It's not an uncommon site at many speedway tracks, but it's certainly unusual at Blunsdon.
Back in Number 96 I find two old friends chatting away amicably, Punch and Bees supremo Colin Pratt.
