Thursday night was a strange old affair. It started in textbook fashion as I backed Brackley Town at odds-against to beat MK Dons in a friendly. Brave Brackley came from 2-0 down to punch out a famous (in my house anyway) 5-2 win at St James Park. Alas, there was soon to be hassle in the castle.
What happened was I failed to climax during an early evening spot of lovemaking with ‘er indoors, leading to her inevitably going through the whole “don’t you find me attractive anymore?” b*llocks. She gets upset. So I fake a bit of a mini-breakdown myself, claiming the stresses of juggling work, bills and the thoughts of raising a child in such an unstable world were taking their toll.
So she strokes my face and says: “Don’t worry Cheeky, relax, go to sleep, you’ll be a great dad one day.”
The actual reality of course was that about an hour previously I’d ‘tainted myself’ after watching an infamous scene from ‘Game of Thrones’ involving Lord Baelish, Ros and a lady of the night.
As Greavsie once mused, ‘it’s a funny old game’.
After a few booze binges too many I promised ‘er indoors I would keep off the sauce last weekend.
As a result Friday night was hard work. A load of my pals were out, some on day two of a three-day bender, so Snap Chat was a no-go for me as the temptation to break would be too great.
We ate fajitas. I cut the grass. We watched TV. But the night went on and on and on. My only respite was gambling. I nailed two obscure football bets (one from the Swedish second division after backing a club called Grebbestads). Yet it was still not even half eight! So I decided to have a mooch into Aldi. Mad old f*cking place is Aldi. Especially that middle isle. The ‘isle of mystery’ as my old mum calls it. I mean you head down there for chicken breasts and come out with a pair of ski salopettes and a wok. Madness.
A chance glance at my phone just before 4:30pm at work on Tuesday afternoon meant I spent the next six hours in a punting frenzy.
Good pal and fellow degenerate gambler ‘The Big Woodowski’ text me advising me to “have a tickle on Edge in the 4:30 at Salisbury”. I did just that and said nag only went and p*ssed it at 9/1.
This meant two things. One: I had a £300-plus war chest in my Paddy Power account. And two: if old Jeff from HR spotted the erection I was sporting through my slacks by the water cooler as I had the result confirmed via the Sporting Life app, I was surely odds-on for a disciplinary.
As always in these situations, greed got the better of me and I was soon blasting away my profit by backing absolute pigs at places like Roscommon and Salisbury. By 7pm my head had officially gone and I was betting horse, dog and cartoon Formula One races simultaneously. I was in danger of waxing the full £300 profit until a brave in-play bet on Cove Rangers to beat Dundee United Under 20s in the Scottish Challenge Cup (I kid you not) saved the day.
The Highland League side came from 1-0 down to land a 6/1 gamble and ensure affluence again reigned in Chez Punt. It was the Stoic philosopher Epictetus who once said ‘Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants’. If he were around today I’m sure the ancient sage would qualify such a statement by also adding that it’s nice to have a slack few hundred floating around in your betting account bin too.
Cheeky’s Punt of the Week: Newcastle to beat Fulham at 21/10 (Bet Victor)