The end of the world gets one step closer

Well ok, a bit of an exaggeration there. I should have said - the end of the world as we know it. Or even - the end of the world as I used to know it.

And maybe that's hyperbole too. Can the closure of a racecourse really be that serious?

Perhaps not. But consider this - Folkestone Racecourse was the last course left in Kent and it has been there providing entertainment for over 100 years. And, since Folkestone was defiantly not of the Ascot breed, the entertainment was for the working man and the local communities.

But racecourses like Folkestone are more than a means of entertainment, they are a bastion against such diseases as Tesco superstores and B&Q, Barratt housing estates and Premier Inns.

I should really say that they were bastions because several courses like Folkestone are owned by a company called Arena which, I suspect, was formed with the sole intention of closing the tracks and turning the land to a more profitable use. 800 new houses in Folkestone's case.

I first went to Folkestone races back in the late seventies and even then it was no thing of beauty. The paint was peeling off the wooden grandstand and the wind fairly whistled around the paddock. In the Winter, Folkestone was always one of the first to cancel meetings because of the weather. I backed my very first winner over the sticks there and also learnt to avoid selling races as a betting medium.

Among the people who will celebrate Folkestone's closure will be the local employers whose workers attendance rate will now increase appreciably. But they shouldn't really because their workers have lost a part of their quality of life to the kind of whey faced bean counters for whom vegetarian sausages were invented.

Last night as I drifted off to sleep I thought I heard the shouts of the bookies on the rails and I caught a whiff of roast pork and beer coming from the bar.

Though I don't go racing any more I'll miss Folkestone as though an old friend has died.
RIP Folkestone Racecourse