October
AugustAll you need is ...
Although I enjoy reading the betting advice provided by Paul Connors (20/8) and Pittsburgh Phil (13/8), sadly they both omit the most important ingredient needed for successful punting … and that is luck.
No matter how much research you do or how careful the records you keep along with constant odds twitching, unless luck is on your side you are doomed to become a regular client of St Vinnies.
On a number of occasions I have hoisted the white flag simply because my luck temporarily deserted me.
I have discovered from experience that if I have $5 each way my horse invariably gets away cleanly, obtains a clear passage and wins with the proverbial leg in the air. However, if I have $100 or more each way my horse invariably misses the start, gets squeezed out, hits the running rail, snaps a tendon or weighs in light … all things I classify as bad luck.
The most successful punters I ever knew were two work colleagues. They knew little about horses and cared even less. Betting to them was no more than a cold, calculated business venture.
They both bet to systems, which they rigidly adhered to. They bet only when their systems fell into place, but then they unloaded in a big way. Their philosophy was, “It is far better to be rich and unhappy than poor and unhappy.”
Apart from collecting their winnings they got no enjoyment at all from horse racing.
Recently I backed a horse simply because it had the name of my grandson. It won. This was good luck!
Last week I intended to have a sizeable bet on a horse I had been following. I realised I had misjudged the time so I jumped off the tractor, rushed inside and to my horror the betting on the race was closed. However, the horse I intended to back finished midfield so I saved my money. I also classify that as good luck.
I once backed a horse that was narrowly beaten because the jockey had dropped the whip. I classify that as bad luck.
Earlier this year a friend who is a small hobby trainer and a non-bettor (“I can’t buy chaff and bet too”) phoned me to say his three-year-old maiden galloper had trounced his smart handicapper in a workout that day.
“It’s in next Thursday and it’s a certainty!” he assured me. “And you’ll get luxury odds about it.”
On the Thursday I was surprised to see the ridiculously long odds being offered about it and then I noticed that two second-tier city trainers had horses in the same race.
I became suspicious and chickened out, having only a few dollars each way on it. As my friend predicted, his horse won the race easily and paid a handsome dividend. That was neither my good luck nor bad luck. I classify that simply as stupidity.
Swan Hill (Vic)