In the 90's Mike and I used to go to every day of the festival and in 1997 I had three of the biggest bets in my life on the Wednesday. The three bets were the full extent of my betting bank and they all looked like winning, but all came second. So when Ask Tom refused to go by the winner I had officially bankrupted myself.
And that's how I became a professional gambler. But I won't bore you with that story.
It's just as well I'm no longer a professional gambler as yesterday I had 4 seconds, and would now be on tilt all week.
Today was supposed to be my glory day, with Weird Al and Kalahari King both winning and landing me a small fortune, but Weird AL is injured. The problem with these sort of bets is that you've been thinking about them so long that you convince yourself your horse has already won. (Yesterday's plucky loser Somersby is going to win next year's Gold Cup - for sure!) Then on the day you look at the race afresh and realise that actually there's 5 other horses with perfectly good chances of winning. So it is today with Kalahari King.
Still, as the saying goes, fair heart never won ...
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