Last Wednesday was a bit of a sh*tter, and it was all thanks to those bloody gee-gees.
As Roger Kahn once succinctly explained, horse racing is just animated roulette, and this was never more plainly illustrated than at Punchestown last week.
Yours truly had Bellshill in a double with Cue Card. The former won at 5/2 and I was waiting on the brilliant Cue Card to do the business at 4/6. In the event Colin Tizzard’s charge ran like a pig, finishing a lamentable fourth.
I then began chasing my losses (never advisable) and soon found myself a further £160 in the hole.
I tried to dig myself out of said hole by backing The Nipper in the last at the picturesque County Kildare track at 11/4.
It was travelling beautifully but then – quite ridiculously – proceeded to fall. Now horses fall in jump racing all the time. It’s no biggie. But this was a flat race! The useless f*cking specimen only tried to jump the rail. I was genuinely speechless. Luck of the Irish? Whatevs.
After days like last Wednesday, it’s reassuring to know I’m not the only problem gambler out there.
And reassurance promptly arrived first thing on Thursday morning in the shape of a text message from a pal of mine who now lives on the south coast who asked:
‘Have you got £100 to borrow me until tomorrow? Just to calm the shakes in my bin wagon.’
When I answered in the affirmative this maverick of a man ordered me to put it on a ‘Labasa FC and FC Tokyo’ double.
These were not teams I was familiar with and I afforded myself a wry smile when I discovered Labasa were actually a team from the Fijian National Football League.
Fair play to the Babasiga Lions, who ground out a gritty 1-0 win at Nadroga (which I’m sure you’ll agree is never an easy place to get a result). The problem for my pal however was while they were doing that, FC Tokyo were losing 1-0 at home to Avispa Fukuoka. Unbelievable Jeff.
I’d rather enjoyed having a few weeks off the sauce so it was with something of a heavy heart that I agreed to go to Newcastle for a day of boozing on Saturday. It was one of those ‘couples’ affairs so my reckoning was that things wouldn’t get out of hand if I was with my better half. It might not have done, but having won a football coupon after correctly napping Newcastle, Millwall and Bristol Rovers, my head went a bit and I started on the double JD and cokes.
A mate of mine twigged I was struggling not long after he innocently suggested we go to another bar and I merely wagged a finger at him and slurred “It’s better to be full of whiskey than full of sh*t, Matty.”
Things came to a head around 7pm when I accused ‘Er indoors of having an affair with a burly bouncer of a bar we had been boozing in. My evidence? I came out of said boozer and he was holding her phone. She’d given it to him so he could take a picture of her and her friend but in my drunken stupor I thought they were exchanging numbers. It was all too much for me to comprehend. I began crying and running towards traffic. In broad daylight. The moral of the story? Red Bull may give you wings. But too much Jack Daniel’s f*cks your sh*t up.
Cheeky Punt of the Week: Hartlepool to beat Plymouth at 4/1 (Betfred)