Playing Cilla Black for a group of Blind Date partners during a day at the races isn't as easy as it looks, as the Oxford Mail's Katherine MacAlister found out I resign as Cilla Black. It's not that the day wasn't a resounding success, or that love didn't blossom between our eight brave participants.

But the blind date soon turned into a farce when one couple turned up together, having shared a lift because they already knew each other, one guy had been set up by his best mate and three out of the four couples decided to ignore my hard work and choose their own partners.

It was more reminiscent of a 70s swingers party than a civilized day at the races. But who am I to stand in the way of true love.

The day went perfectly. The sun shone, and everyone arrived on time, were introduced and whisked off to the Champagne lounge where bottle after bottle of bubbly appeared.

Then it was off to place the bets. In the first race alone there were horses called Call It A Day and Earthmover - which way would they go?

The second race was won by a horse called Celibate - things didn't bode well.

But the real agenda of the day soon became apparent as cliques formed and the pairs split up. And having already eyed up the opposition, chose their own winners.

The dead certs proved to be non-runners and vice-versa.

It's a good job I'm not a betting woman or I'd have come home empty-handed.

The moral of the story is, never judge a person by their passport photo and always bet on the outsider.

Story date: Tuesday 16 February

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.