The Jump That Won A Grand National

Let us hope so, though Aintree is by no means a lovely establishment. It is ugly and graceless. In the dank restaurant water condensation on the ceiling drips into the champagne of uncomplaining lords and their ladies. "When it isn't raining outside," a waitress explained, "it's raining in here." The stands and fences are painted with cheap stuff that rubs off on clothing.

But who is complaining? The race itself is one of the world's great sporting events, with a long and noble tradition behind it. It would be deplorable if—like Ebbets Field, the Polo Grounds and other shrines—it should end as a victim of the population explosion. Housing developments can be established almost anywhere. The Grand National can be run only at Aintree.