MARVELLOUS MELBOURNE

Evening Star, Issue 18502, 8 December 1923, Page 7

MARVELLOUS MELBOURNE

MAINLY ABOUT KAOING. TREMENDOUS CUP CROWDS. [By G.A.W.] No. 2. Tho oustanding features in the life of Melbourne during my stay might bo described in the words “ Rain, riots, and Races.” The weather was such that I might have been in Dunedin during a typical early spring (not the extraordinary spring wo are now experiencing). Cloudy days were frequent; really warm days scarce. Rain showers often fell; floods almost akin to those experienced in Dunedin in April last occurred at one week end, and did a lot of damage; they also caused tho postponement of many sporting events. The wind was cold and biting at times. As for tho riots, enough has been written to give New Zealanders a clear idea of tho seriousness of the situation they occasioned Cup week, 1923, will long be remembered by those who wore in Melbourne at the time, not so much on account of the racing fever that attacks the populace at that season as because of tho burst of madness that turned a section of civilised community into a rioto is rabble. It was an experience as rare as it was ugly. THE RACING CRAZE. ... As for the racing. From the middle of October until the end of November Melbourne is annually given over to horsetalk. One reads and hears much about this absorption of the populace in tho national pastime, and is inclined to discount tho reports somewhat. But not when octuafly on tho spot. Neither men, women, nor children were shocked by the riots into forgetting the race carnival, but were always ready to discuss tho chances of their favorite in tho Cup. Betting, of course, is rife, and women and girls put on their half-crowns with the bookmakers (registered and unregistered), just as the men risk larger amounts. Caulfield Cup day was bright and warm, I and it was a fine crowd that assembled on tho course to see tho mare Wynnetto win the big race. THE ÜBIQUITOUS ‘‘BOOKIE.” What strikes tho New Zealander as strange on these courses is the sight and sound—especially the sound—of tlio betting "ring.” Looked down upon from the top of an adjacent stand (there are four fine stands at Caulfield, and ope very largo one in course of building), tho ring presents an extraordinary sight. Here wo about 150 " bookies,” each standing on a little raised platform, beside which is a disc bearing a number corresponding with that against hia name in the race-book. Beside each bookie is his clerk, who enters the bets us they are made, while his principal dashes off .some, generally indecipherable, hieroglyphics cn he ticket which he hands to tho bettor. Crowding around these stands or moving with difficulty in between them are men (and a few' women) seeking to obtain the best price they can about their fancy. This felt-hatted crowd (straw hats, by the way, appear to have gone dean out of date) looks like so many bees swarming; but, generally speaking, they are the stung, rather than tho stingers. And nil the while there is a continued bellowing of tho odds. Voices, ranging from an 1 ultra-tenor squeak to a painfully hoarse bass, cry the odds. “ Four to one tho feo-uid; four to one tho feo-uld ” goes up, many of the callers placing a hand at the side of tho mouth in the fashion of Paddy’s Market stall holders. [ Hie punter wanders around with ears alert until ho hears one bookie, with whom business might be slack for tho moment, i yell: " I’ll lay 9 to 2 the feo-uld.” And | ho snaps tho extra point, and goes away 1 satisfied. Not that those odds about tho favorite are usual; not even in big and important races. On Oaks Day at Flem- ! ington, for instance, a man in whose com- \ pany I was laid £2OO to £SO on Frances | Tressady, Ills pluck was reworded, for that filly won (as she had won the j Derby), and ho gathered in his £6O. i “ A racecourse certainty,” ho remarked. ! The bookmakers are compelled to take as | low ns 10s in a bet, though they obviously j despise tho “ ten-bob punter.” One reason is that each ticket given out costs the , bookie 6d in tax. Tho tote has not been I introduced on to the Victorian racecourses THE MELBOURNE CUP.

But it was Melbourne Oup Day, of course, that w f as most eagerly looked forward to. And it is indeed a wonderful experience to be one of tho crowd —one of, in this instance, a crowd of 125.000 people. Too dense a crowd for comfort, even in tho stand enclosures; but what of it? It’s Flomington on Melbourne Cup Day, and you’re there to soo it. And if you’re wise and talcs up your seat on one of the several stands early and stick to it, you’ll get a good view of the great race. If you want to move about and “put your bit on ” at tho last moment, you have to take your chance of a strained, tip-too view from tho back of tho standing mass. But most get a fair view of the race, and tho excitement is certainly mtensc. One lady next to me sat quietly until tho horses had reached tho distance post. Then she

ica.pt to her feet, and, stamping her dainty shoe as though performing a lui.ka, she shouted rhythmically : “ Rivoli—Rivoli— Rivoli!” until tho winning post was reached. I was with her in her desires, for I, too, bad fancied Rivoli; but tho great horse (undoubtedly Australia’s best this season) had to be content with second place to the favorite (Ritalli). It was a thrilling sight, the twenty-six beautiful creatures sweeping in a. bunch around the fine course, colors flashing in the sun, with tho mass of people, swaying in the intensity of excitement, following them with their eyes. Tho newspapers expressed tho opinion that tho rush to the course was not_ so great as usual, and the railway officials confirmed this by stating that while, usually, special trains were despatched every minute and a-half for tho course, this year the interval was five minutes. The trams took fewer passengers also, so that the attendance—estimated, as I said, at 125,000, including tho _ occupants of “Scotchman's Hill” outside tho course, or 110,000 admission fee payers—must have been less than usual. How on earth any more could have been packed in (except in “ tho Flat,” os tho centre of tho course is called) is a puzzle. Tho betting ring at Flemingfcon is larger and, if possible, more noisy than that at Caulfield. On Cup Day it was heavy work indeed to push one’s way through tho crowd of eager punters. Members of the ring that day were not in festive mood; many had been badly hit over the result of the Cup. But this didn’t lessen their vocal powers. TROTTING. Trotting is not on so high a piano as it is in New Zealand. Tho sport is rather looked down upon by many for some reason or other. Yet big crowds attend tho week-day meetings at Richmond, Ascot, and elsewhere. I attended a meeting at Richmond. The course is not a picturesque one, nor are the appointments anything like so good as those at Forbury. But tho track is fast, and was In good condition, even though heavy rain had fallen tho day before. Some of the things that wore novel to aDunedlnite were the mixed field in most of the races, harness or saddle being optional, and the method of starting, which is carried out on tho system in vogue in Auckland, stout ropes being stretched across at each mark (the intervals are syds, not twelve as in our case), and automatically released by a lever worked by the starter. One wonders, as the ropes whip back at a terrific pace and disappear Into poles in the outside fence what would happen if a horse had its nose over one at the moment or if it curled round the creature’s legs. But I understand that nothing like that has ever happened. It was strange, too, to sea a lady rider on a saddle horse in one of tho races. This was a, Mrs Kelly, who is a regular rider at the various" meetings. And lam told she ho.s her fair share of wins, though on this day her mount was unplaced. When the entries for a race _ are too numcrou, such race is run in divisions, in which case the prize money is small, being divided between the placed horses in all the divisions. On the day of my visit one rn.ee (the Novice Handicap) was run in three divisions, the starters numbering twenty-one in each. The total prize money for the nice was 200sovs. The winner of each division got £39 6s Bd, each second £lO 13s 4d, each third £lO, and each fourth £6 15s 4d. Fully 200 horses were stabled on the course, and, with perhaps a few exceptions, started in one or another of the seven races run during the day. A BIG FOOTBALL CROWD. Another great sight was the Melbourne Cricket Ground on the day of the semifinal of the football championship. Fiftyfive thousand people attended, hundreds of them going to the ground before 10 o'clock in the morning (and taking their picnic lunch with them) in order to secure scats. Thus when, urged by local friends to go early, I reached the ground at 12.35 (the big match started at 3 p.m.) there was not an inch of sitting room to bo had. I paid 2s 9d to what was called “the stand.” I stood all right, and so did thousands of others. I could have stood equally well and seen as much “outside” for Is 7d. But what did it matter! I was witnessing a football match under Australian rules, tho first I had seen played in Melbourne in twonty-fivo years. And soon I was keenly interested in the fortunes of my old club, South Melbourne. But they lost, alas! I found that my liking for ilia game I had been “brought up in” remained in full force. Tho open, breezy, qiMck-.as-a-fla.sh play is vastly exciting, though I can understand the New Zea-landc.r-born being irritated at tho absence of off-side, the frequency of scores, and tho comparative sacrcdness of tho players' persons—no tackling, no “dumping”; yet there are plenty of ways in which Occident and mishap can enter. I was tickled by the “professional gladiator” manner in which tho players were attended to. At each change-over in each spell (the game is placed in four quart ere) a host of trainers rush on to tho ground, give the players oranges or liquid refreshment-, rub them down (in some cases removing boots and massaging feet), and generally administer to them. At half-time these attentions arc repeated in the dressing rooms, and the interval (officially twenty-five minutes) is a long one. Thebig majority of players now receive payment for their services, and all are well-trained athletes. HENLEY ON THE YARR-A.

Still another big sporting occasion was “Henley on the Yarra.” The attendance here was estimated at 80,000. I was frankly disappointed with this carnival. The houseboats were few and the decorations upon them “ nothing to write home about.” There was nothing very original in tho display of decorated boats; while as for the racing, very, very few of the thousands assembled took tho slightest, interest in it. Henley has come to he Melbourne’s “flappers’ day.” Tho big majority of those on the banks were young people, and very nice and fresh they looked. At night the boats were lit up with colored electric lights, and (hero was a fireworks display. But here, again, the crowd was too dense for enjoyment. (To bo continued.)