Jack Morland

On a morning which only the Scottish word dreich could properly describe, it would be easy to opt for the indoor life, a nine-to-five salaried job in a centrally-heated office. But where's the fun in that, eh? Instead, as the days tick by until the winter solstice, racehorse trainers around the isles are out in the slate grey mizzle which a lethargic sunrise can't hope to shake off. The veterans among them could be forgiven for dragging their wellington boots a little at this time of year, but that is...