A Natural Born Winner.

My aspirations of being a leading flat jockey were dashed early on when my mother first made her macaroni cheese. However an interest in racing and subsequently one of the umpteen deadly sins, gambling, has been with me ever since.

I have always been a rather poor gambler and fail to understand why. I study the racing pages and have an abundance of ideas and even receive plenty of informed opinion from those that surely know everything. None of it appears to work. There must be a method that does work and a trip to France was to enlighten me….

Myself and Sarah along with brother Charles (sibling not monk) and his wife Alice set off to Longchamp for the Prix de l’Arc de Triumphe. The men arrived in Paris the day before the Arc armed to the teeth with Racing Post, wads of Euros and Victor Chandler account cards and went straight to the races for the Saturday meeting. The ladies arrived in Paris the day before with shopping, art gallery and museum guides and a determination to see most of the City in a day. Unfortunately they also only brought high heeled shoes and that meant that was out of the question. Their friend Vanessa (who didn’t want to go shopping anyway) suggested they have a drink and a look at the nearby Italian restaurant and while away the day. This they did and on our return they didn’t really notice.

On Sunday morning we all set off to Longchamp where the crowd was about 20 times that of Saturday. Not being able to move much and taking up more room than most, Charles and I decided we should work a straight line. We started at the champagne bar and would walk straight through the main stand to the front lawn stopping at the over 20 Euro Paris Mutuel window on the way. Winner pays for the Moet.

The first race set the standard for the day as those that won continued to do so and those that didn’t….didn’t. There were four methods at work so it was a worthy experiment.

I studied the market prices, seeing which ones were being backed and went for decent wagers on a couple to win at quite short prices. I failed to collect anything which surprised no one.

Sarah looked at the horses going down and chose the finest looking specimen (forgetting this was racing not The Norfolk Show) and had a small interest to win. She failed to collect anything either and our household were failing to contribute to the Moet Fund.

Charles, using his considerable knowledge of breeding and bloodlines, chose a couple of good each-way shots, one of which came second giving him a healthy return and made the first bottle of Moet safe. But what of the other member of the team I hear you ask….

Alice, who before the race, had gone quiet for 27 seconds while making her selection, announces her choice is Balythous that has little chance but is ridden by F. Prat and he sounds quite funny. After the said horse and jockey had hacked up by a considerable margin she returns to the Paris Mutual window thrusting her ticket at the rather startled Frenchman. He starts counting out the winnings but stops 40 Euros short; his hands go up in the air and there is a gallic shrug of the shoulders followed by a prolonged burst of French, to which a startled, and dare I say it, confused Alice replies ‘Oui’. She returns to her family clutching an IOU from the Paris Mutuel having cleaned them out in the first race……..if you want to find a winner find a name that sounds quite funny.

Oh…..please have a look at the following wines for your delectation and Happy Christmas!