Gary Wiltshire's Apple Pie

Seeing Gary Wiltshire looking big and well on the dogs from Wimbledon on Sky TV recently, reminded me of a time at Newbury Races.

Now Gary loves a bet whether as a bookie or as a punter and I dare say his love of the action may at times have bordered on the obsessive. Most of us punters and racing enthusiasts must have at some stage wondered whether our involvement was becoming too much and perhaps jeopardising our outlook on life.

The other night it was pretty obvious that if there is one thing in life that can possibly compare with his love of racing – whether it be dogs or horses – it is his love of food. There was once a debate in the Ring as to who was the greatest gastronome - Gary or Johnny Lights. The debate swayed either way but one thing was certain - it was strictly a two runner book with the rags 100/1 and getting bigger.

Gary was making a book at Newbury a few years ago on the back line and before he joined the Tote. I was fortunate enough to back a winner with him. Giving him time to pay out his punters, I waited for a few minutes to allow him and his staff to organise the bag and count out my winnings. With all the tickets paid out and only a couple of other bookie’s accounts to settle Gary got off the stand and easing back a couple of yards to absolve himself from the action, proceeded to pull out a Blackberry and Apple pie from his pocket and carefully extricate it from the wrapping. Meanwhile as the Clerk counted my readies it became increasingly obvious that Gary did not want to be disturbed. At which point one of his staff had to ask him about a payment from another bookie. Gary gave him such a look of disdain that anyone noticing would have quickly removed themselves from the vicinity for fear of their life. The Floorman winced and decided to sort it himself – rightly or wrongly.

It was becoming clear that if Gary could have stepped into an alternate universe so as to allow him to concentrate solely on enjoying his pie he would have willingly done so. As it was he had to reside in the real world while willing to die anybody who had the temerity to disturb his peace.

I could not stand it any more and had to give Gary the wind up.

‘Ere Gary’ says I. Gary gave me the last in his repertoire of looks that kill while at the same time struggling to tear himself away from the solitude of the sacred relationship he was having with his delicacy.

‘What’ he curtly growled.

‘I bet you would love a bit of custard on that pie. You know – the nice one that Marks and Spencer do’. Gary’s eyes went up into his head faster than a Harrier Jump Jet and I thought he was going to feint at the sheer thought of total ecstasy which would have happened if I could have poured the exquisite sauce on his cherished fruit pie.

I don't know if Gary had a list of horses to follow from the meeting but I can bet odds on what was on his shopping list the next time he visited ‘Marksies.’