Turner-ing the corner

Yo Blair! (as I once said to the Prime Minister)

What a week. What a only-the-most-important-race-of-my-life week! After a year of plying my trade in the Ryman Premier League of greyhound racing (shout out to my pal Marvin, the Bergkamp of Borehamwood FC), on Tuesday night I graduated to the Chumpions League of the sport. Bit more later on that, first a bit of housekeeping:

That race I told you about in my last post, I came third. W (it stands for Whatever. It's what all the young dogs are saying down the kennells, whilst they listen to Snoop and Pawtishead on their i-pups). Who gives a Flying Frank? got bigger fish to fry...

...like this race on Tuesday night just gone. 'Twas the Racing Post Festival down at The Stow. It doesn't get much bigger than that I can tell you. Even Sky Sports were there, complete with presenter legend Gary Newbon, or The Borbon as I call him (he really takes the biscuit). £1000 on offer for the winner of my race - as opposed to the usual ton (which those tight-fisted hoodlums at Frank PR never show me anyway). A massive crowd was there to cheer me and the stow was busier than the family planning clinic on Essex high road.

So why on earth did I stuff up big time, come fifth and embarass myself infront of literally dozens of avid SKY TV greyhound fans?

You tell me. Answers on a postcard to woof@flyingfrank.com

Anyway, as I woke up in a bout of depression on Wednesday morning, I had a note that dropped into my basket. It was from my good friend (and one-time lover) Anthea Turner, who sent the above message to me. Bunsen as I call her (Bunsen Burner - Anthea Turner), has always Turner-ed me on. I met her through her sister Tina and ever since then she has kept in touch. Infact, since she got married she has taken to sending me regular boxes of Cadbury's Snowflakes. Enough already - surely it's someone elses Turn.

It could be that Bunsen's chocolate has been what has been hampering me in recent races. Since Wednesday I have had a pure diet of only Water, Pedigree Chum and Ladies. I am focused for my next race - this Saturday night, 8.15pm at The Stow.

Watch this space, racing fans.

Enough for now,

Shabbat Shalom

Peace. Love. Woof.


Flying Frank

Seeing Red

Hello fans and fellow Triple F's

Some timely advice this week, as you can see in the message from my good friend, confidant and bank manager, Jamie Redknapp.

"Don't get caught Red-knapping" the former international midfielder and heart-throb muses.

And I tell you, he knows as much about conditioning The Flyer as his old man does about Football management. You see, I won last week and I need good friends like Redders to keep my feet on the ground. As a result, I was only too happy to take on his advice. You see, I have known him and his wife Louise for some time. An Eternalaty, you could say. He was a great lad with a ball at his feet and he hasn't changed since he retarted from football. If you know your French you will understand what I mean when I say: J'aime Jamie. The only thing that really annoys me about him is that he is so flippin' good looking and so flippin' good at football. I mean, surely you should only have, as a maximum, one of those things?

Anyway, enough about the JamieRedknapptheonewhousedtoplayforLiverpool-meister and more about The flyer-meister. Following my victory last week, Jono my trainer has entered me into a race tonight at the Stow. 19.58pm is the time of the race and if you are smart you will see that that is in half an hour. You are probably wondering how I am writing this so close to the race....I'm keeping it under my hat for now, but answers on a postcard...

Enough for now.

Peace. Love. Woof.


Flying Frank


P.S - Shout going out to the Frank PR posse - loved what you came up with!