Racing: Trippers revel in the sun and fun

As Willie Ryan drove for home down the Epsom hill on Benny The Dip, a great shout went up from the horse's supporters in the Vodafone Village, the most democratic of Epsom's arenas.

"Come on Benny!" the Dippers yelled. The rest of the crowd was silent, but as Silver Patriarch burst out of the pack and began to reel in the leader up the long, undulating straight, screams of "Come on Silver" competed for attention.

But as the two horses flashed across the line together, a bewildered silence fell, quickly replaced by a buzz of anxious enquiry. "Who won? Who won?" a policeman murmured into his walkie-talkie and was besieged by fans - had he an inside line to the judge?

Shortly the announcement came - Benny The Dip had prevailed, and a horde of day trippers descended on the Tote kiosks. John Gosden's colt may not have a name that suggests the grandeur befitting a Derby winner, but it is just the moniker to attract wagers from holidaying Eastenders.

Entrepreneur, the disappointing odds-on favourite, had attracted little support from the humbler punters all morning. In the Village they grumbled about the scanty odds offered on Michael Stoute's 2,000 Guineas winner, and debated which of his rivals was likeliest to deny him the Classic double.

The Village is just one of many innovations designed by the Epsom management to draw greater crowds and accustom them to the notion of the Saturday Derby. The gimmicks seemed to be working - the infield heaved with punters, and gypsies' palms were weighed down with silver. A band of Pearly Kings and Queens sang popular cockney ditties, and Pearly ladies-in-waiting swooped on unwary racegoers to dragoon them into congas.

The Derby is a uniquely cosmopolitan event. Appropriately, the Parade Ring occupies the middle ground between the Village and the immaculately manicured lawns in front of the Queen's stand, and crowds from both extremes thronged there to watch the Derby runners walk around.

Entrepreneur looked magnificent, his coat flashing in the bright sunlight, and when he was awarded the best turned-out prize it seemed a likely omen of victory.

As a busy tailcoated official organised the runners into race-card order so they might parade down the course, the public address system announced that Channel Four's Derek Thompson should proceed urgently to the starter's car. Epsom's management clearly know the importance of television to their sponsors: The Derby can't start without "Tommo".

Or finish without words of thanks to those sponsors: Benny The Dip's owner, trainer and jockey all expressed their gratitude to Vodafone in speeches delivered at the winning line. Gosden was the most articulate and gracious, but Ryan's few heartfelt words received the greatest cheer.

Away from the ceremony, the celebrations were getting under way as the Dippers dipped into their winnings. In the club enclosure, champagne flowed. In the Village empty tins of Foster's carpeted the tarmac.

Geoff from Ilford was leading the cheering in one happy crew of Dippers. "I'll tell you, mate, this is how it is," he yelled. "pounds 100 on Benny The Dip at 10-1, bag of sand under Entrepreneur's saddle - bang!" And Geoff's plans for the evening? "Bit of a meal, home to the wife, give her a present - a tenner."

The minor races continued to hold the attention of the crowd in the Queen's stand, but in the Village they queued four deep for Rolla Racing, a side- show in which players competing for fluffy toys propelled model horses jerkily along by throwing balls into holes.

On the first running after the Derby, the only grey in the field closed inexorably on the leader, but just failed to get home. "Come on ladies and gentlemen," the barker started his spiel once again. "You like to play, you like to win..." It was not a grey day at Epsom.