Bets over three days of Cheltenham £2445
Profit over three days £2130
My recently-retired friend kicked off his life of leisure by joining me for a three-day assault on Cheltenham – including a visit to the hallowed arena on Sunday. There was supposed to be something of a lesson involved. Things didn’t look so good on the Friday where I lost £500 on the day – actually my worst gambling day of the year so far – whilst he landed £500 on some mug £1 forecast at Wolverhampton.
Saturday proved somewhat better – with a Dan Skelton/Harry Skelton five-timer rather making the difference to the weekend’s bottom-line – even if it was at Uttoxeter rather than where we were supposed to be focusing. That's if Paddy Power don’t welsh on their bets – given they have frozen my account for “security reasons” – I’ll keep you informed.
Then a beautiful day on-course Sunday, including three winners, a couple of beautifully game horses to fall in love with (Lalor and Sceau Royal), plus the obligatory deep-throated roar as young Harry drove one home.
We had been unable to print out our tickets (long story) and, when we arrived at the ticket collection point, we had one of those excruciating conversations I’ve been getting used to recently.
“Okay, if I could just check what phone we sent the tickets to?”
“Um, sorry, I don’t have a phone.”
(Pause to take this in) (no much longer)
“Err, okay – in that case I’ll need to see a driving licence.”
“Umm, sorry, I don’t drive.”
In the end, I think he just assumed I was some old nutter and handed me a couple of tickets to get me away from him, in case it was catching…
no poetry.
Profit over three days £2130
My recently-retired friend kicked off his life of leisure by joining me for a three-day assault on Cheltenham – including a visit to the hallowed arena on Sunday. There was supposed to be something of a lesson involved. Things didn’t look so good on the Friday where I lost £500 on the day – actually my worst gambling day of the year so far – whilst he landed £500 on some mug £1 forecast at Wolverhampton.
Saturday proved somewhat better – with a Dan Skelton/Harry Skelton five-timer rather making the difference to the weekend’s bottom-line – even if it was at Uttoxeter rather than where we were supposed to be focusing. That's if Paddy Power don’t welsh on their bets – given they have frozen my account for “security reasons” – I’ll keep you informed.
Then a beautiful day on-course Sunday, including three winners, a couple of beautifully game horses to fall in love with (Lalor and Sceau Royal), plus the obligatory deep-throated roar as young Harry drove one home.
We had been unable to print out our tickets (long story) and, when we arrived at the ticket collection point, we had one of those excruciating conversations I’ve been getting used to recently.
“Okay, if I could just check what phone we sent the tickets to?”
“Um, sorry, I don’t have a phone.”
(Pause to take this in) (no much longer)
“Err, okay – in that case I’ll need to see a driving licence.”
“Umm, sorry, I don’t drive.”
In the end, I think he just assumed I was some old nutter and handed me a couple of tickets to get me away from him, in case it was catching…
no poetry.
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