To the uninitiated, Tattersalls is an historic and world-renowned bloodstock auction house in Newmarket, Suffolk. Since 1766, the finest race horses in the world have been bought and sold here. As the magnificent beasts are paraded around the sales ring, eager bidders sit in circular rows of seats, each aiming to catch the auctioneer’s eye. This is a serious business: last year Tatts sold 10,000 horses and turned over 400 million guineas.

On Sunday, the famous old building bore witness to a different business but one which is no less serious. Lord Hayward, former Conservative MP and retired rugby referee, played auctioneer. And the members of the West Suffolk Conservative Association took to their seats to inspect and assess not the usual parade of equine perfection, but us: the final four applicants from whom they would select their candidate for the next general election.

I have known this beautiful patch of England all my life. Although I grew up in Birmingham, my parents live in a village here called Hundon – something that confused one hard-of-hearing local who thought I was talking up my ties to London. I also had close family living in Newmarket for years, and my aunt married a US fighter pilot based at RAF Mildenhall. I have vivid childhood memories watching the horses from Newmarket racing along the gallops in the early morning mist. It is a breathtaking view that, once seen, can never be forgotten. It is one of the unique majesties of life on these isles.

These are, I implored my audience, strong local credentials. But I was up against stellar competition: Ben Obese-Jecty, a former army officer, Louise McKinlay, from Essex County Council, and Richard Rout, deputy leader of Suffolk County Council, all made their pitches. As each of us spoke, the remaining three were instructed to wait – unable to leave, phones and smart watches strictly verboten – in a green room nearby. We were rivals united in the grim tension of more than two hours of anxious waiting. Christine, a stalwart of the Suffolk party, kept us all going with small talk. Martina, my wife, kept me going with a ready supply of wine gums.

The system of voting and counting adopted by the party seems designed to inflict maximum pain for us poor potential candidates. The members vote once, then a party agent slowly counts all the ballot papers, and then slowly places them one by one into neat piles. If no candidate passes fifty per cent in the first round – and none of us did – the process begins all over again, with the last-placed candidate eliminated. Eventually, as Afzal counted the votes from the second round, I realised my pile had risen past the magic number. Several members kindly commented later that I had won the contest with my answers, but it seemed to me it was the sugar rush wot won it. Wine gums are not yet a prohibited performance-enhancing drug in politics, but perhaps they should be.

No sooner had the result been called than the news filtered out and the phone – now happily returned to its owner – turned red hot. Among the messages of congratulations were the inevitable and obligatory jokes. ‘On track for I’m a Celebrity 2036’, remarked one friend. ‘Do you like the taste of a kangaroo’s penis?’ asked another. For my predecessor as candidate – who indeed remains the sitting MP – is Matt Hancock, star of ITV’s popular reality television programme. As Martina said, the people of West Suffolk, and the members of the association, can rest easy. I can’t cope with anchovies, let alone the genitalia of Antipodean marsupials.

In fact we all hope my selection will allow us to draw a line under the difficulties of these past couple of years. Now is the time to declare a fresh start and look to the future. And while there is much work to be done, there is plenty of reason to be positive. With our formidable chair, Rachel Hood, and leader of the Conservative group on the district council, Nick Clarke, we start with the advantage of having a great team.

However specific and local they may be, the issues and challenges we face in West Suffolk raise broader questions. How was it that developers could build so many houses in Haverhill while failing to build the relief road they promised when they won planning permission? Why is it in Brandon, where there is a consensus that new houses are needed, development can just be stopped by Natural England? How do we back horse racing – a multi-billion pound industry – and encourage entrepreneurs and businesses spilling out of Cambridge to head our way, to Mildenhall, Brandon and Haverhill?

All politics is local, so they say, but in the end it adds up to a national picture. How will we preserve what makes the places dear to us special while still achieving the economic growth and shared opportunity we so badly need? Fortunately, in reality it is not such a binary choice – but getting the balance right will be one of the challenges we face in the years and decades ahead.