Part 2 - Murwillumbah Cup 2026
Kenny Arrives. Now We’ve Got a Race.
Kenny arrives in Murwillumbah on Cup morning.
Now the form study can really begin.
The old Land Cruiser announced Kenny before Kenny did.
Keith heard it coming along the road, that familiar diesel note getting closer until the whitish Cruiser turned into the driveway beside the caravan.
It rolled to a stop.
Kenny climbed out in his Akubra with the form tucked under one arm.
Keith looked at Betty.
“Here we go.”
Cup Morning
It didn’t take long.
Coffee appeared.
The Murwillumbah Cup form went onto the table.
And Kenny went to work.
“Right,” he said. “I’ve done the Cup.”
Keith smiled.
“Favourite win?”
Kenny gave him a look.
“If I drove all the way here to tell you the favourite could win, I could’ve phoned.”
Betty laughed
Coffee poured, final field open. Kenny, Keith and Betty begin the serious business of finding a Murwillumbah Cup winner.
Kenny opened the form.
“Rock Empire. Good horse. Tough win at Randwick last start. Ryan Maloney rides him. Handles the ground. He deserves to be favourite.”
“So you’re backing him?” Keith asked.
“No.”
Keith looked across at Betty.
Betty took another sip of coffee.
She was beginning to understand Kenny.
Kenny Finds One
Kenny tapped his pen beside one name.
“Golden Cross.”
Keith leaned closer.
“Why?”
“Because he’s flying. Three wins from his last four. Came from well back and rounded them up over the mile at Eagle Farm last start. Gets in with 54 kilos after the claim.”
Keith looked at the barrier.
“Fourteen.”
“I can read, mate.”
Betty laughed again.
“That sounds promising.”
“That’s the problem,” Kenny continued. “But there’s speed in this race. If they start arguing with each other up front, I don’t particularly want to be one of them.”
Keith was listening now.
“Rock Empire should get the better run. That’s why he’s favourite. Golden Cross might need some luck.”
“And Loch Eagle?”
“Class horse. But sixty-three kilos.”
Kenny shook his head.
“I’m not carrying sixty-three kilos around Murwillumbah for anybody.”
That got both of them.
One at a Price
Kenny wasn’t finished.
“If you want something at a price, Kipling’s Journey.”
Keith raised an eyebrow.
“Now you’re talking.”
“Forget the last run. If he gets away properly and finds his old pattern, he can improve.”
Keith picked up his pen and wrote the name down.
Kenny noticed.
“Thought you didn’t need my help?”
“I don’t. I’m documenting the evidence.”
Betty shook her head.
Two Saints tragics discussing horse racing.
She’d seen enough losing seasons to recognise optimism dressed up as research.
Form studied and selections made, Keith, Betty and Kenny head into the Tweed River Jockey Club for Cup Day.
Time to Go to the Cup
Eventually the coffees were finished.
The form was folded.
And Betty gave them the instruction neither man seemed capable of giving himself.
“Are we actually going to the races?”
That did it.
A little while later the three of them were walking through the entrance to the Tweed River Jockey Club.
Keith had his cane.
Kenny had his form.
Betty had both of them moving in the right direction.
Then she stopped.
“Look at that.”
Keith followed her gaze.
Beside the track stood something that looked as though it belonged to another age of racing.
An old bookmaker’s board.
Names down the middle.
Prices alongside them.
And the little knobs once used to turn the odds as the market changed.
Kenny walked over.
​
Now this was something he understood.
The 2026 Murwillumbah Cup field, with market prices from 20 August converted to the old fractional odds once seen on bookmakers’ boards.
The Old Bookie Board
There they were.
Rock Empire — 7/4.
Golden Cross — 4/1.
Loch Eagle — 17/2.
Tenzing — 18/1.
And further down, Kenny’s rougher chance:
Kipling’s Journey — 25/1.
Betty studied the board.
“So Golden Cross is yours?”
Kenny nodded.
“Yep.”
“And Keith?”
Keith looked across the runners.
“I haven’t finished yet.”
Betty smiled.
Of course he hadn’t.
She looked back at the board herself.
Because Betty hadn’t come to Murwillumbah simply to watch two blokes have a bet.
She loved the horses every bit as much as they did.
And somewhere among those names was going to be hers.
The wandering around Murwillumbah was over.
The form study was done.
Cup Day had arrived.
Three horse lovers had made it through the gates.
Now all they needed was a winner.