Well today is meant to be a day off, even racing addicts have to do the old domestic stuff every now and then ... food has to be bought and the ironing pile is getting embarrassingly high. I must admit that is my fault, in the good old days I was able to make a shirt last all week, now it is usually two a day - there is a price to pay for sartorial elegance.
One trait I have fortunately dropped is the silly habit of having a "lucky racing outfit". I think it began after a rather lean betting spell. One of those horrible spells we all have, where even if there was a walkover the horse would still contrive to fall over before crossing the line. When the drought ended it ended in style with four decent priced winners in an afternoon. By a quirk of fate I happened to be wearing a new racing tie that day - you know the sort of tie I mean, a plain tie with a neat horse motif printed on it.
Well I thought the tie has bought me luck and the stupid thought was further engrained when I wore it again next day and, again, has a successful punting afternoon. Well that was it I could not go racing without my lucky tie, if I did forget to wear it I would invariably lose. Of course it was all twaddle, it was just in the mind but it was incredibly hard to shake off the notion once it was stuck in my head.
Racegoers are often superstitious people, they have to stand in the right spot in the stands, or go to a certain Tote window. If they do not the racing Gods will condemn them to months, even years, in the betting wilderness
Even on my ‘day off’ I am sitting here writing about racing, hoping the ironing will go and iron itself.
I have already been online and booked flights for a trip to Hexham the week after next and hotels for a foray “up north” later in the month. Even harder to resist is the siren call of my favourite course, Fontwell Park, which is racing this afternoon. If I can stay at my laptop for another half hour I will have left it too late to go there – it is going to be a tough half hour!!!
One trait I have fortunately dropped is the silly habit of having a "lucky racing outfit". I think it began after a rather lean betting spell. One of those horrible spells we all have, where even if there was a walkover the horse would still contrive to fall over before crossing the line. When the drought ended it ended in style with four decent priced winners in an afternoon. By a quirk of fate I happened to be wearing a new racing tie that day - you know the sort of tie I mean, a plain tie with a neat horse motif printed on it.
Well I thought the tie has bought me luck and the stupid thought was further engrained when I wore it again next day and, again, has a successful punting afternoon. Well that was it I could not go racing without my lucky tie, if I did forget to wear it I would invariably lose. Of course it was all twaddle, it was just in the mind but it was incredibly hard to shake off the notion once it was stuck in my head.
Racegoers are often superstitious people, they have to stand in the right spot in the stands, or go to a certain Tote window. If they do not the racing Gods will condemn them to months, even years, in the betting wilderness
Even on my ‘day off’ I am sitting here writing about racing, hoping the ironing will go and iron itself.
I have already been online and booked flights for a trip to Hexham the week after next and hotels for a foray “up north” later in the month. Even harder to resist is the siren call of my favourite course, Fontwell Park, which is racing this afternoon. If I can stay at my laptop for another half hour I will have left it too late to go there – it is going to be a tough half hour!!!
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