The horse fails to live up to the promise of its name. It comes fifth or sixth or maybe seventh, not first, second or third at any rate. It seems to be running well when they set off – from my stance on the crowded Pavillion steps, I can just make out the tiny specks in the distance as they ride round the upper field. The riders bunch together for a time before the leaders are determined. The crowd goes a little mad and “Very Good Day” canters in at the back of the field. I placed a small bet on “Very Good Day” to be ironic. A very good…