Ahead of the spring racing carnival Titus O'Reily, Australia's least insightful sports writer, looks back on some of horseracing's most elaborate and/or idiotic scams.
Crikey intern Anthea Batsakis worked as a waitress in a high-end marquee at last year's Cup Carnival. And the glamorous sheen wears off pretty quickly.
Swathes of foreign visitors and corporations inject consumer dollars and marketing investment into the spring racing carnival, proving just what can be achieved when taxpayers aren’t picking up the tab.
When Bart’s filly swooped down that long Flemington straight to claim the Group One fillies’ prize, no wonder the Oaks Day crowd stood and cheered, writes TP Maher: They’d taken the poisonous short odds quoted by those legalised vampires in the betting ring and they were happy.
It's the inevitable photo gallery after every Melbourne Cup, rubbish everywhere, passed out sunburnt men and drunken girls being carried by friends. Australians are a classy lot.
Bob Dumpling lets loose on the Melbourne Cup and the mess that happens on the other side of the track. No horses involved, just drunk D grade celebrities and fake charities funding the TAB. Time to grow up Australia.
Yep, get all the clichés out, today is the race that stops a nation, the sport of kings. But the Melbourne Cup is also a strong example of the distinct Australian social classes, from the supermodels in the birdcage to the country horse lovers.
Getting ready for tomorrow's Melbourne Cup? Then don't follow TP Maher's example, as he reflects on the drinking, gambling and also the horses from Saturday's Derby Day.
On Saturday, Melbourne went head-to-head with Sydney for the start of their respective Spring racing carnivals. Rosehill had all the prize money but Caulfield had all the class.
This year, the Birdcage enclosure during Derby Day at Flemington will be devoid of some of the noxious species of racegoers known as the “wanker banker”, writes Mark Carmody.