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Tuesday, 30 November 2021

Which Racecourse is your Nemesis to Bet?

I am coming out in a cold sweat just thinking about this question. 

Perhaps I should just run my fingernails up a rubber boot, or chalkboard or jump in a vat of fermenting horse shit.

In truth, I don't think I would take any of those options in favour of betting at my nemesis course. 

Although, give me a year or two and you may find me standing on the edge of a highrise car park in Milton Keynes. I'll be babbling on about Brighton and holding a tuft of luscious, green grass in one hand and a losing betting slip in the other as I take flight plummeting like a stone. 

I really do paint a rosy picture, hey. As dark as blood. 

So, on a lighter more jovial thought, which racecourse do you just dread to bet? 

Even if you have been following a horse, it's primed to win and even the trainer's wife gave you the wink as she breezed through the paddock in a flowing summer dress, you start to question the double gamble which you know is wrestling within the brain. Like a devil and angel on either shoulder, a tug-of-war where the rope enters your left ear and exits the right and the friction from all the pulling too and throw carves your grey matter like a pork cheese. 

Betting on the said horse is a gamble but the fact it is running at your nemesis course is the kiss of death. 

Now, for no particular reason, your despicable course may be different from mine. You may say Chester and I'm almost mocking you with the fact that I'm like a winning machine there.

Don't talk to me about Epsom Downs, I've never backed a loser. 

It's so easy. 

But Brighton...

I mean, I love the Royal Crescent. 

But ask me to bet at Brighton racecourse and I go quiet. You can see my brain working overtime trying to resolve some crazy equation that even Isaac Newton would run from. 

But you know what it's like...

I really fancy that horse today. 

Trying not to think about the last twenty-five bets that went south. Trying to convince myself that some old, ghostly witch that had been following me around the course for years had finally died or given up the ghost (so to speak).

Let's face it, even the bubonic plague died off in the end. 

So I chance my luck with a bet. I'm sure it will be ok. Just take a few deep breaths of the beautiful sea air and think pretty thoughts. 

As soon as the stalls open I realise the old witch has climbed on my back, whispering words of death and pointing me in the direction of Milton Keynes. 

I wonder, which course do you fear to bet?

Monday, 22 November 2021

Fond Memories of the Grand National back in the Day

One of the first horse races I can remember was the Grand National. 

Being a 70s child I grew up with the greatest steeplechase in the world on the TV. Every April, we were glued to the box, come rain or shine. 

In fact, it was one of the reasons I grew up to have an interest in horse racing although these days I am more of a flat racing man that the National Hunt, although I do appreciate both. 

I've been the Huntingdon and Fakenham racecourse for the National Hunt and enjoyed the meetings. I think 90% of the racegoers were local if not regulars. It was nice to see they allowed patrons to take their pet dogs as long as they were kept on a lead. I think I had as much fun watching a selection of pooches, some wearing little jackets to keep them warm, on what was a truly bitter-cold day. There is something about being on a racecourse in the middle of winter which gets to the bones of young and old alike. I guess I had got used to enjoying summer days at Great Yarmouth although I have been caught in a storm or two there. As they say in the UK, we have four seasons in a day and that is what makes it special in its own way.  

I enjoyed my day at Fakenham, which is located in the county of Norfolk, as it had a very traditional feel about it.

My Dad loved his racing. I'm not sure if his father enjoyed it or not. I know his brother, Keith, did as do many of my cousins and Uncle Fred was a keen racing man as they all enjoyed the Eastern Festival at Great Yarmouth, which takes place every September. 

Our summer holidays always coincided with the Eastern Festival and we loved our family holidays. The worst part was coming home because the school had started the week before and it was a nightmare trying to get a timetable or work out where to go. I remember this especially well when starting our secondary school. It was a return I would rather have forgotten.    

I think every race fan has fond memories betting on the Grand National. My brother followed a horse called Classified who never fell in his life but was tarnished with that tag when his jockey was unseated. I remember another fan writing to the Racing Post to display their utter disdain at this slight. 

We all have our favourite horses and that's what makes it special. You could pick a 100/1 shot and no one can say your horse is a loser until after the race - and even then, sometimes, you will be correct. 

Classified never won the Grand National but was remarkably consistent either placed or in the first five for a number of years. 

I was lucky enough to pick Aldaniti (pictured) who won the big race on the 4th of April 1981. It was a truly remarkable story for both horse and jockey. Many gave up hope on both steely characters who said: ''Just you wait and see.''

Bob Champion rode the race of his life and successfully battled against cancer and raised millions of pounds for charity in the process. 

The Grand National has always been a race where dreams are made, built on blood, sweat, and tears (and a glimmer of hope). 

For many, Red Rum is the greatest Grand National winner of them all. 

He won an unprecedented three times: 1973, 1974 & 1977. 

In truth, every winner of the Grand National tells a story few would ever believe. 

Whether, horse, trainer, owner, jockey, even commentator, or lucky punter down the road. Those who would never bet in all their life are ready to put the cash down and hope it is their lucky day.

We all remember the year we had a winner on the greatest race of them all. 

The Grand National. 

Professional Gamblers: Patrick Veitch – Enemy Number One

Who is Patrick Veitch? 

A professional gambler once dubbed 'The Baby-Faced Assassin of the Betting Ring' by the tabloid press, Patrick Veitch is one of the most successful punters of modern times. As detailed in his autobiography, 'Enemy Number One: The Secrets of the UK's Most Feared Professional Punter', first published in 2009, in an eight-year period from 1999 he recorded profits in excess of £10 million. 

Notoriously reticent to reveal any details of his personal life, Veitch was a mathematics prodigy and not only applied to, but was accepted by, Cambridge University at the age of just 15. Unsurprisingly, he read mathematics at Trinity College, but soon launched a premium-rate telephone tipping service, operating under the moniker of 'The Professional', and recruited from the student body to man the telephones. Heading into his third year, his service was realising over £10,000 and, eventually, he abandoned his studies altogether. 

Veitch attracted the attention of leading owner Michael Tabor, one of the richest men in the country and a shrewd, unflinching punter, who paid him a seasonal retainer for his tips. Once, and only once, in a three-year period did Veitch tip what he considered a 'certainty' and, unafraid of 'putting his money with mouth was', invested £20,000 of his own cash. His selection, Blue Goblin, in the Coral Sprint Handicap at Newmarket on May 31, 1997, was sent off a heavily-backed 11/10 favourite and duly quickened clear to win, easily, by two-and-a-half lengths. 

Everything appeared to be set fair for Veitch, but the following June his association with Tabor, his career and his life, as he knew it, was brought to a shuddering halt. Faced by a disgruntled local businessman demanding money with menaces, Veitch refused to pay the stipulated £70,000, but contacted the police and, on their advice, immediately went into hiding for a period of nine months.

Veitch eventually testified against his would-be extortionist, Calvin Hall, an infamous and, as time would tell, highly dangerous criminal in open court, wearing a bulletproof vest. Hall was sentenced to five years' imprisonment in November, 1998 and subsequently received a much longer jail term after being convicted of the attempted murder of a police officer. The extortion episode took its toll, emotionally and financially, and by late 1998 Veitch was, by his own admission, 'at rock bottom'. However, in typically industrious, single-minded and self-confident fashion, he set about redressing the balance. 

In 'Enemy Number One', Veitch writes that his success essentially boils down to 'finding a bet where the odds are greater than the true chance of that event happening.' However, he does concede that any successful punter must possess the characteristics of a 'brain surgeon', when studying form and assessing odds, and of a 'mad axeman', when actually placing a bet. Nevertheless, such is his belief in his own ability, he once said, 'The chance of me having a losing year is basically zero.' Indeed, the main inconvenience that Veitch faces is placing bets with bookmakers; such is his notoriety that he cannot do so himself, so he employs a network of associates to wager money on his behalf. 

Veitch apparently makes most of his profits from his own hard work, rather than being 'privy' to inside information. However, Veitch and his partners, collectively known as 'The Exponential Partnership', did pull off a major betting coup with their own horse, Exponential, in the Wright Brothers Maiden Auction Stakes at Nottingham on August 16, 2004. 

The two-year-old son of Namid, a good source of useful juveniles, had made an unispiring debut for trainer Stuart Williams when last of 13, beaten 17 lengths, in a slightly better maiden race at Beverley the previous month, having weakened just after halfway. At Nottingham, Exponential opened at 100/1 but, having shown improved form at home, was backed into 8/1 joint-fourth favourite. Once underway, Exponential raced prominently and, once ridden into the lead a furlong-and-a-half from home, kept on to win by a length; Veitch landed winning bets worth in excess of £235,000. The racecourse stewards understandably questioned Williams regarding the improved form shown by Exponential, but accepted his explanation that the gelding had strengthened physically since his debut and benefited from the experience of his previous outing.

Monday, 15 November 2021

Myth: You Can't Make Money Gambling

It always makes me smile when people talk about gambling. 

In fact, it is one of the main reasons why I don't chat with people who have no understanding of this subject matter.


Because they lack knowledge. And that leads to them falling back onto cliches. 

''Gambling, it's a mug's game!''

''You can't beat the bookies!''

I could go on forever. It really is a waste of time giving your thoughts, time, or energy to someone who doesn't have a basic understanding of the subject at hand. To me, it's the same as someone going to the doctors and trying to tell them what it's all about. You know what the doctor thinks when you leave the room. 

''What a twat!''

Most GPs are probably a bit more polite even in mind but they think it. Because you are literally taking the piss out of them (but the individual is too brainless to register that point).

Talking to someone who doesn't have a foundation of knowledge has nothing to offer (unless you want to talk about the weather or how many furlongs in a mile, because they don't even know that, but they ''know everything''). I don't waste my time with such people. It's a survival method - for them. Because I feel like cracking their skull before the conversation has ended. They tell you where you are going wrong even though they have not the slightest idea about anything. It really defies comprehension. I base this chatter on a person who has little intelligence. Sad (for them) but true. 

I don't take fools gladly. 

I have met more stupid people than I care to consider. Those days have gone because I only talk to people who I wish to express an informed opinion. My opinion, knowledge, wisdom has worth and I don't intend to try and convert brainless morons who don't even know the basics. 

I follow the niche of two-year-old racing. I've had people trying to tell me that horses start racing at three. This is the level of ''knowledge'' in the primordial soup.

Anyway, you get the message. 

Expertise is no different in any area of life or work. To prove a point, you would have enjoyed talking to my dad's brother. My uncle Keith was a painter and decorator. He was old-school. He was trained to a high level. He painted with a brush, after preparing whatever surface as if he was painting the Mona Lisa. You may consider yourself a painter and decorator. And I do admit times have changed. However, if uncle Keith saw you painting a wall with a roller (even if you had a decade of expertise) he would have considered you an amateur. He would have laughed at your efforts and considered you a joke. I'm not saying it to be nasty. It's just a fact. If there had been a competition he would have painted your wooden spoon with his brush. Sure, you completed the decorating job but while you painted the house down the road, he's been patting a corgi down the neck after Her Majesty the Queen remarked how pleased she was with this work.

He was in a different league. I think the word we are looking for is an EXPERT.

Gambling is the same. Some people just know a lot more than others. They didn't wake up one morning and magically know more. They worked hard and that put them ahead of the game. It's like a student who revises for a year while another pupil didn't read any books and just kind of hoped they would pass. 

When you consider how many businesses are operating in the country. How many make more than a million pounds a year? As a percentage, it would be small. That means most are just about getting by while a few are coining it in. 

Gambling is the same. 

What I find astounding is the number of gamblers who simply do not improve from the first bet to their last - even if this is over decades. It doesn't make any sense. Would you go to college or university for a decade without learning something more than most? 

Before making your next bet, consider how you can improve your knowledge and successful betting will follow suit.

Photo: Pixabay free for commercial use and no attribution but given 

Monday, 8 November 2021

Interrogated by the Gambling Thought Police

You meet some people, hey. 

Annoying bureaucratic people who ''have a job to do''. 

I'm not going to say exactly what this is all about or the company/person I was talking to because I am fearful of them reading this post and tracking me down like Channel 4's Hunted. 

I was left feeling like I'd been interrogated by the police for doing nothing wrong. 

This all came about when I noticed a certain money services platform kept flagging up my account as having a problem. I had no idea why. I haven't done anything wrong beyond using one account for a few personal transactions when it is specifically meant for business. 

Big deal. 

I'm a sole trader. As far as that goes personal and business is one and the same thing. As long as the books are accurate then what's the problem. It certainly shouldn't be the concern of some woman at the end of a phone who just couldn't bring herself to say what she thought so she kept using the term ''Let's call a spade a spade!''. I hate that term. I hadn't got the slightest idea what she was talking about 

However, she kept going on about reading terms and conditions and asking me about specific small money transactions. 

I really don't know what on earth she was talking about but I was left with the impression that a number of £10 payments were being viewed (I can hardly bring myself to even say the word) as a transaction for what I will define as an illegal product. Whether this was the truth of what she was saying or not I didn't ask beyond saying everything is legal and above board. I didn't want to state the obvious because I was suffering from shock, bewilderment, and annoyance. To have some random woman at the end of the phone talking as if reading a page or two from George Orwell's 1984 seriously annoyed me. 

It simply shows how these companies work and what they are all about. All I have done is to pay them a crazy amount of money in commission for doing very little work. 

Sure, I work in the gambling industry with regard to running websites, writing articles, and promotion. I don't sell horse racing tips. I don't sell any dubious products and 100% legal in all I do. I have never even been stopped by the police, had a traffic ticket or anything. In fact, I am more righteous and legal than just about anyone you will ever meet. 

Who on earth are these companies who can cast aspersions acting like some form of law enforcement when they have no power to do anything at all? 

They simply hinder someone's business because they don't like the fact it's an off-shoot of the gambling industry. 

I was questioned over a £25 payment that was refused. The reason only these idiotic people know. 

I was asked what was this money for? You can't make this up. The truth of the payment is as innocent and kind-hearted as I am. 

I had a free competition which horse racing fans could enter. I gave a £50 prize to the winner of the competition. Two people found the winner so they shared the prize. 

The £25 I was questioned about was an act of generosity. 

The person who was receiving the money said they would donate it to the NHS. So you can imagine I was peed off because I was stopped from doing this. Disgusting. I tried to pay it via the NHS Just Giving page. It wouldn't go through. 

You wouldn't believe this. The same jobsworth women had the nerve to specifically ask what was the payment for when I tried to send it via the Just Giving charity. 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. 

I was made to feel like a criminal for doing the right thing and appreciating others. Many times my account has detailed other payments to charity as I try my best to help support others. 

This is the world we live in where we are guilty of an imaginary act and have little opportunity to prove our innocence. 

I can assure this ''person'' that I could account for every single received payment and free to question every single person regarding these small transactions (£10 entry fees to take part in the tipster competition). 

I'm going to close the account and work with a company that appreciates its customers rather than make them feel like a common criminal.   

Pixabay: free for commercial use and no attribution but given 

Author: Unknown

Saturday, 16 October 2021

The Integrity of Using Bots on Betting Exchanges

I use Betfair on a regular basis. 

Compared to placing bets with conventional bookmakers (which seems a waste of times these days as they limit bets to a point of £1 win) they are a logical platform. 

You may have heard of punters using bots to place bets on the exchanges. They do all the work so you don't have to. I can't say I have used them myself and have little understanding of how I would make one. 

Considering I have no understanding of computer coding, I think it would be a long time before I made anything that could place the most basic of bets. Anyway, I have been chatting with my good friend Eric Winner as we both (like many punters) would love to have a bot to place bets akin to a passive income. Obviously, we would need to find an angle that made money on a consistent basis. That is no easy task because winning money is far from an easy endeavour. 

Anyway, let's get past the point of this elusive winning angle. 

I wonder if a bot kept winning would the powers take note and use it to their own ends? I have no idea but we have seen with all platforms and terms and conditions that any user is at the mercy of the owner. So I have to question whether such a winning bot would be winning for long because it may well be used by others who tinker with the code to take your profit and put it in their pockets. 

It may be a cynical thought and something of George Orwell's 1984 but it does make me wonder if the profitable bots would be left to their own devices.

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Sunday, 10 October 2021

Professional Gamblers: J.P. McManus - From Humble Beginnings

John Patrick McManus, almost universally known as 'J.P.', was born in Limerick, Republic of Ireland on March 10, 1951. 

From humble beginnings, McManus rose to become a horse racing tycoon – at the last count, he had a net worth of €2.2 billion – with hundreds of horses in training on both sides of the Irish Sea. He became tax-resident in Switzerland in the Nineties but, while he conducts the lion's share of his currency dealing operation from Geneva, he owns Martinstown Stud in Kilmallock, Co. Limerick, which acts as his base on his frequent visits to the Emerald Isle.

McManus' racing colours, adorned in recent years by retained jockeys Sir Anthony McCoy and Barry Geraghty, were originally 'borrowed' from his cherished South Liberties Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA) club. Nevertheless, since he bought his first horse, Cill Dara, in 1976, his distinctive green and gold hooped silks have become synonymous with National Hunt racing in Britain and, in particular, with the Cheltenham Festival. Indeed, McManus is the most successful owner in the history of the March showpiece with 66 winners, including seven during the four-day event in 2020. 

Nicknamed the 'Sundance Kid' is his early years, McManus is also one of the greatest professional gamblers of modern times. At the Cheltenham Festival, two early gambles, on Jack Of Trumps and Deep Gale in the National Hunt Chase in 1978 and 1979, respectively, went awry when both horses came to grief, but McManus finally opened his account with Mister Donovan in the Sun Alliance Novices' Hurdle in 1982. Trained, like Jack Of Trumps and Deep Gale, by Edward O'Grady in Co. Tipperary, Mister Donovan was, as O'Grady later fondly remembered, 'a maiden with a heart murmur'. Nevertheless, having been bought by McManus just a month before the Festival, he duly prevailed at odds of 9/2, landing bets worth £250,000 in the process and offsetting what his owner described as a 'distastrous first day'. 

Down the years, McManus has been the architect of several more notable betting coups at the Cheltenham Festival. 

In 2002, his unbeaten Like-A-Butterfly was sent off at prohibitive odds of 7/4 to win the Supreme Novices' Hurdle and had just been headed by Adamant Approach, who looked the likely winner, at the final flight; the latter parted company with his jockey, Ruby Walsh, leaving Like-A-Butterfly to pick up the pieces. 

Thursday, March 16, 2006 was another red-letter day for McManus, when he won £600,000 in one hit from legendary bookmaker 'Fearless' Freddie Williams, courtesy of Reveillez in the Jewson Novices' Handicap Chase, and a further £312,500, courtesy of Kadoun in the Pertemps Final later the same afternoon. 

More recently, in 2013, McManus landed another Cheltenham Festival gamble with Alderwood in the Grand Annual Handicap Chase, which, since 2009, had been the 'getting out stakes' for the week. Already a Cheltenham Festival winner, having won the Vincent O'Brien County Handicap Hurdle, all out, in 2012, the nine-year-old was having just his fifth start over fences and, consequently, lined up just 1lb higher in the weights than the previous year. Backed at all odds from 6/1 to 3/1 favourite throughout the day, Alderwood took over from Kid Cassidy, also owned by McManus, at the bypassed final fence and drew away in the final hundred yards to win, comfortably, by 3¼ lengths. Kid Cassidy finished second to give McManus a 1-2 in the race, in the right order, while Alderwood chalked up win number fourteen for Irish-trained horses during the week. 

Nowadays, McManus makes fewer excursions to the betting ring than was once the case and appears to be in no desperate hurry to announce a successor to Barry Geraghty, who retired in July, 2020, as his new retained rider in Britain. Nevertheless, with the likes of Epatante, Champ and Easysland, to name but three, at or towards the head of the antepost markets for their likely engagements, in the Champion Hurdle, Cheltenham Gold Cup and Cross Country Chase, respectively, at the 2021 Cheltenham Festival, he has plenty to look forward to.

Author: David Dunning

Thursday, 7 October 2021

Free Horse Racing Tips

You never know who is searching the net. 

I received an email from Neil C, asking if I was interested in selling horse racing info. 

Firstly, I like people who introduce themselves and have money to put on the table. I bet you think, yes you would because you're interested in the money. You know what, you would be 100% wrong. 

I say that because I don't have anything to sell. 

That isn't completely true as I could easily sell my tips but I don't want to as it's a thankless task and a distraction from making money myself. I'd rather enjoy horse racing for me. 

Who wants to be held accountable for a paltry sum? To be honest, I would have to be earning an additional £40,000+ a year to be bothered with the hassle. Unless I could secure that level of investment I really wouldn't want to share my info or time (the latter is more important). 

Neil asked me about selling info to him. 

I enjoyed his email because it was well written, courteous and grateful for my time. (As I am of him for taking the time to write and take an interest in Craig's Betting Blog and Talkbet, where he contacted me).

I invited him to subscribe to Group Horse because it is informative and free of charge. I mentioned that I am adding to the mailings so we will be sending on a weekly basis because two mailings a year are positively sedentary. 

We'll never simply fire emails at subscribers as a way of filling our pockets at the expense of the receiver. It's disgusting and self-interested. 

I've paid for a couple of online courses and every other email is trying to sell something. I do find this a touch irritating. It seems the nature of the beast that once you're on a mailing list they just cannot help but keep going to the well. I think website and blog owners need to respect those who are good enough to sign up for whatever they offer without becoming a pain in the arse. 

We will never get to that point. It has to be 99% free stuff and 1% selling. Clearly, we need to make money along the way but I intend to sell products that actually make money and something that cannot be found anywhere else. In addition, we give a guarantee that if we do not live up to expectations you will get a full refund. You may not appreciate this point but sending emails can be a very expensive business. ConvertKit charges $119 a month to send to 10,000 subscribers. I think the price is bordering on criminal. In fact, if you send monthly mailings to 105,000 subscribers it cost $679 (a month). What on Earth is that all about.  

As far as selling horse racing tips go, I think the industry is stuck in the dark ages. Their marketing is literally dire and lacks imagination. 

I'm not going to say too much about how I am going to work and what I will be offering but it will be something that punters are looking forward to receiving at an affordable price. 

If you want to be part of our journey to ventures new, then subscribe to Group Horse because you will be impressed by what we have to offer and especially the new approaches we will be introducing this year. 

Thanks for your support. 

Pixabay: free for commercial use and no attribution but given  

Do You Need to Bet Thousands to be a Professional Gambler?

Lots of people like a bet. 

They do as they do. 

Although I am not in favour of punters betting for fun. 


Simply because too many gamblers are naive to what they are doing and the potential implications of that first, small, bet. 

Sure it makes the football match more fun. 

But tell that to the compulsive gambler or addict who started the same way. I know you will say: ''Well, that won't happen to me!''

And you know what, I agree with you. On a statistical basis, you are, thankfully, unlikely to become a problem gambler or struggle with psychopathology. 

But here's the thing you need to consider. If you bet for fun, and you lack experience, knowledge, understanding then don't consider yourself the same as the few gamblers who make their betting pay. 

I'm not trying to be funny, but you are a million miles away from them. 

''Well, how are they so good?''

They have worked for years to hone their skills. You see to be a professional gambler isn't about betting thousands of pounds. You may have seen a few wealthy (naive) punters betting thousands like you bet £25. 

Trust me, that doesn't make them a professional gambler. They may be a professional idiot with a bundle of cash to burn but it's like saying the person who shouts an answer to a question is the most intelligent person in the room (just because they have similar DNA to a foghorn). 

You notice a lot of these professional gambler/pundits on TV. Most of them made their name by betting big money. That doesn't mean they know more than the person who bets quietly £100, £200 or £500 a time. However, everyone wants to know about extremes. TV shows are built on stories based on conflict. That's why Emmerdale Farm went from talking about cows in the field to a plane crash where half the cast was killed (partly, I guess, because their acting skills weren't much better than Ermintrude from the Magic Roundabout). In this day of political correctness, we cannot say she was a pink cow just in case there is some confusion about sexual orientation or prejudice.

In ten years' time, Emmerdale will see an alien invasion where the actors are replaced by robots.    

It's the same as all forms of media. 

That's why the Daily Sport wrote a story about the Men of March Public House in our little town saying it had so many windows so the girls in the ''brothel'' could easily see the police coming (no pun intended). 

It was all lies but it sold a few papers. 

A professional gambler, in my opinion, doesn't need to be a big bettor. 

They simply follow their undoubted passion in a very professional way. They didn't wake up one morning and consider they are a professional gambler just because they bet their gran's inheritance. 

Just as a plumber, an electrician or plasterer didn't wake up one day and decide they would be a tradesman (or woman).

You may think betting is betting but it's not. It's no different to someone trying to change an engine on a Porsche 911 but they have no idea the engine is in the back. In fact, you don't even have any tools. 

This is why to be a gambler with any hope of winning money comes down to a game of knowledge and principles. You can be exceptionally good at picking winners but still make little money because you lack the many and varied principles to be efficient in all you do. 

This aspect of gambling is even more important than the exceptional knowledge you may have at hand. 

In truth, the best gamblers are the ones who don't really enjoy gambling at all. They do so because they are convinced they have the odds in their favour. Anything can happen short term. You could have 20 losers in a row. To others, it may look like you have no idea what you are doing. However, long term the truth will show. 

TV adverts detail gambling as fun. The buzz. If you bet for the buzz then start beekeeping, at least you get a jar of honey. 

Betting is a serious business. 

When you calculate how much a gambler can lose over a lifetime betting a tenner here and there it's a scary thought. If you smoke, drink, and gamble (to excess or badly) your health and finances are going to look like you - a shadow of your former self. 

The best gamblers in the world aren't the people with books and notoriety they are the clever people who keep their mouth shut and get on with business in a professional manner and love their sport with a passion. 

They don't need anyone to pat them on the back to say well done. 

They couldn't give a toss.

Tuesday, 28 September 2021

Do You Need to Smoke Cigars to be a Professional Gambler?

Both my parents smoked. 

One loved a pint and Castella while the other a vodka and cigarette. 

I told my mum many times that it just wasn't lady like to smoke a cigar. 

That's obviously a joke. 

However, I would love to meet a woman who could afford to pay £500 for a box of 20 cigars. For her personal use. A good, heavy smoker. 

I get the feeling she'd have a story to tell. 

I think they must be a rare breed.

My Dad loved a cigar. He always smoked Castellas. A box of five back in the day cost £5. So that's a quid a piece. I have no idea what they cost these days. If he was feeling flush he would upgrade to a King Edward. I wish I had bought Dad a box of Cuban cigars. It might have taken me a year to save the money to buy such exotic refinery. 

I know on the box of each cigar it says: ''Smoking kills'' but I know my father would have killed for a good cigar. 

I'm pretty sure smoking did him no favours and may have cut his life short. A sad loss at the age of 62. 

If anyone deserved a long life it was this good, kind man who did his best for all. 

It's a strange thing that all those years Dad smoked his cigars I couldn't smell that distinctive aroma. 

However, years later, if I got a waft of cigar smoke down the street or at the races it would catch my senses and memories of my Dad. 

To be fair, I don't think there are many people who can afford to smoke these days let alone a cigar with a touch of class. 

I've never smoked but for some reason I have this feeling if not need to buy a sample of pricey cigars and smoke them while attending Great Yarmouth racecourse. This seaside racecourse fills my heart with joy with the fondest memories and feeling of family, hope and love which I never really thought much about until the passing of my Dad. 

I actually bought a couple of cigars which are still awaiting the day and this has been several years. I'm sure they must have dried to a crisp and if lit would burn like a fuse rather than a pleasant smoke. 

There has always been an association with professional gamblers and smoking cigars. I guess because you need a fair wedge to even buy a cigar. Something tells me that someone who buys a cigar that costs £25 a time isn't going to Honest Joe Turf Accountant and bet five pound each-way on number ten. 

Dad would be at the races, smoking his cigar, and betting. To be fair he was betting ten, twenty or a little more cash if he was on a winning day.   

I'm going on our merry pilgrimage to the Eastern Festival this September at Great Yarmouth races. We go as a family to remember those who are sadly no longer here. I really need to buy my box of Cuban cigars and walk around the racecourse and light a cigar and say: ''Thank you, Dad.'' 

For all those good times I took for granted. 

I just wish we could go to the races once more and I say: ''I've got you a little present.'' 

And offer him the best Cuban cigar that money can buy. 

For all those people who saw my Dad smoking his cigars at the racecourse he wasn't a professional gambler but the kindest most decent man you ever could meet who loved a cigar. 

God bless.

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