The Post Knows More Than Most

I hope you all joined me in laying the hind legs off Binocular at evens on Saturday.  Those of you who also took a bit of Overturn at 4.0 on Betfair will have shared in my joy, although maybe not shared in celebrating by shouting “screw you Binocular!” at the telly, whilst in a packed bookies, in the premier enclosure at Newbury racecourse!  But I’m not here to blog about my success at the Hennessy meeting, enjoyable as it was.

For last night was one of the most enjoyable sessions I’ve had on the internet without enabling the “Private Browsing” feature on Safari. 

Whilst on Twitter, I engaged in what felt like a proper conversation with the following characters: Racing Post editor Bruce Millington (@brucemillington) and football-mad writer Mark Langdon (@marklangdon – a man who summarises himself thus: Racing Post journalist who loves football and betting and betting on football) ; Racing Post golf guru Steve Palmer (@stevepalmer78 – the 78 denotes his year of birth, a fact he bemoans regularly in his hilarious columns in the ‘paper and the amazing published diary “Born to Punt”... I mean that the account is amazing, not the fact a publisher decided to touch it); BBC Journo “Honest” Frank Keogh (@honestfrank); Coral’s Head of Racing James Knight (@jamesaknight) the Editor in Chief of Sport Magazine Simon Caney (@simoncaney) and some blokes called Mark Calvert (@furlongpost) and Lee Murray (@LeeAMurray) both of whom seem like jolly nice fellas.

The fervent retweeting and replying arose due to the fact that the BBC Sports Personality of the Year 2011 shortlist had been announced, and in the aftermath Honest Frank shared a link with his 7,000 followers showing the various publications’ choices for aforementioned winning personalities: 

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/sports_personality/15895642.stm

I don’t actually have a problem with any of the newspapers or magazines, free or overpriced, whose sports writers got a say.  I’m not a regular peruser of Zoo or Nuts magazine, as I favour hardcore pornography, which is why I’m not a massive fan of the Sun either, and I appreciate that giveaway dailies like the Evening Standard and the Metro probably do reflect popular opinion and make informed choices when given this sort of responsibility.   Yes, I was a tad bitter, having backed him for a top-3 finish, that Judd Trump wasn’t in the final selection, but the real omission was that of the Racing Post.  They didn’t even get a vote.

This is a staple of literary digestion that British punters up and down the country cannot do without.  Aside from gambling, though, it also provides some of the most authoritative, well-researched and insightful analysis and opinion that you can find in the print media.  Read some of James Pyman’s pieces on trends of the turf, tuck into Kevin Pullein’s in-depth treatises on the statistics behind the football hunches, and find me any golf correspondent anywhere else in journalism who puts more effort into previewing tour tournaments than Steve Palmer. 

http://www.racingpost.com/news/tipping/kevin-pullein-football-analyst/829275/

Maybe it is because these writers know that gamblers hang on their words before filling out their coupons, but I don’t have a bet every day, and I seem more and more often to reach for the RP ahead of most other choices in the newsagents.  I will already be aware of most of the mainstream news by the time I’ve had my Marmite on toast and morning cuppa – when I get to the cornershop, there’s always so much more to enjoy in the Post.

So the fact that the beeb didn’t even consider their opinion for SPOTY 2011 bemuses me.  I doubt we would have ended up with the RP team choosing 10 jockeys or even five choices from the whole sport of horseracing.  We might have had a female suggestion in the shape of Hayley Turner, and who could argue that AP McCoy doesn’t deserve to be in there again, but I posit that there would have been many shouts in the RP’s list that you would have agreed with.  They deserved their say.  Bruce Millington himself has said more for Mark Cavendish than most mainstream sports commentators, and I feel like I have had my sporting knowledge enriched by adding the Racing Post to my regular reads.   These hacks are more than just tipsters you know Auntie!  I would urge the BBC to look beyond regional rags and sleazy mags and give this other British institution the respect it deserves in next year’s SPOTY nomination process.

Looking Forward to the Dirty Thirties...

Tomorrow, a luxury Mercedes-Benz coach will take me and 33 pals to Newbury for the SportingBet festival's dramatic conclusion: Hennessy Gold Cup Day - the event that, one year ago to the day, sewed the seed that turned me from a casual punter with an interest in horse racing, into a gambling addict with a passion for the turf.

I'm laying £50 of Binocular in the Fighting Fifth up in Newcastle, and am yet to place a bet for the Newbury meeting.  Great Endeavour's trouncing of the field a few weeks ago in the Paddy Power is still fresh in my mind, but I will wait until the morning to make my mind up on the se7en races in Berkshire, and place most bets at the track, enjoying the banter and bedazzlement of my 30th birthday outing.

A quick word for Big Buck's, who for me is the highlight of tomorrow's card - currently trading at 1.21 on Betfair.  He is one hell of a hurdler and with bank accounts paying paltry sums of interest, those of you burying acorns for your kids' futures or the holiday of your dreams could do far worse than investing all of your life savings in this almighty beast tomorrow afternoon.

Crus-ing into the Jump Season



Grands Crus makes the weight count at Cheltenham yesterday in the 2m 4f Novice Chase

P&L (LAST 30 DAYS)

Boxing: -£18.95 | Cricket: -£6.00 | Horse Racing: £582.10 | Motor Sport: -£31.99 | Soccer: £166.81 | Tote: | Total P&L: £691.97

As I settle down, cup of tea on my little living-room table, to The Morning Line, I’ve finally got a chance to put electronic pen to LCD-projected paper and recollect some of my finest memories of a memorable flat-racing summer.

Back in March at Cheltenham, I met a chap called Simon Hawes for the first time.  Our mutual friend @paolobow introduced us just before Ruby Walsh powered Big Buck’s to another World Hurdle (leaving yesterday’s triumphant Novice Chaser Grands Crus in his wake) and we jumped around a town-centre pub in celebration at Buck’s’s victory (apostrophe carnage!), spilling Guinness and chucking phones around the room, quickly forming a burgeoning friendship built on mutual respect.

Little did I know that when we met at the track the next day, I nearly threw that new found amity away with the kind of disregard normally given to a losing betting slip.  Discussing the national hunt code of horse racing, I made a throwaway comment that went thus: “Ah lads.. it’s ALL about jump racing.. the flat really doesn’t have much for me.. I just don’t see what the fuss is about!”

To Hawes, it was as though I had not just insulted the facial hair sprouting unkemptly from just under his bottom lip; I might as well have taken a pair of tweezers to it and pulled each wiry black hair out, one by one.

@paolobow later told me that he had to hold Simon back: “just leave it, Si,” he said. “Not now.”

OK.  I was wrong.  I made a mistake.  As I always say: that’s why they put rubbers on the end of pencils.  I had, of course, enjoyed the flat in the past, but I just found the jumps more exciting, and I preferred the characters – the older horses like Denman and Kauto Star, who keep coming back after a decade of unabated efforts.  The risks they seem to take are higher, leaping over hurdles and fences into open ditches and soft, cold, winter turf.  I shouldn’t, however, have been so dismissive.

I’ve spent the summer reading up on the history of the flat, the prestige of the classics, the majesty of Longchamp and the pedigree and bloodstock associated with siring the next generation of thoroughbred racehorses.  It all begain with three original animals, the Byerley Turk, the Darley Arabian and the Godolphin Barb, probably over four centuries ago, and modern studs like Coolmore and  the Juddmonte Farms continue to produce the goods to this day.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thoroughbred  

I still think the National Hunt season holds more personal excitement for me, and I relished layed Cue Card yesterday with liabilities to the tune of £170, backing Grands Crus and roaring Tom Scudamore home as he made the weight advantage count and proved his class in the move from hurdles to fences,.  But now at least I can say to Simon, Paolo and the rest of you that I have been educated, enraptured and enriched by opening up my heart and my wallet to the flat, and I’m already looking forward to seeing the return of the speed demons in 2012.

Five Personal highlights/memories from the 2011 flat season:

1.   Having backed Frankel in the Guineas and lumped on at odds-against in the Duel on the Downs, seeing him in the flesh at very close quarters in the Ascot parade ring and winners’ enclosure took my breath away and earned me not one, but two photograph appearances in the Racing Post. http://palphabet.blogspot.com/2011/10/from-newmarket-nightmare-to-freaky.html

2.   Going to HQ for the first time since I was a nipper for my Nan’s 80^th birthday party, and promptly losing a monkey. “All part and parcel of a day at the track” as Simon put it.

3.   The thought of Goldikova and Galileo going at it! What a sire that beast is.. I want him to wine and dine Goldi, treating her with the respect she deserves, but really Gal, hold nothing back when you get down to making the beast with two backs.

4.   John Gosden’s utter class in the aftermath of Rewilding’s death at Ascot.  I was on the Godolphin colt that day and it was very clear that Gosden had more concern for the fallen horse than for his own triumphant Nathaniel.

5.   Watching many a YouTube video of Black Caviar tearing through the “competition” down under.  She is an awesome animal, who glides around the course like a big cat: stealth of a panther, speed of a cheetah.. I sound like the theme tune to the cartoon Bravestarr, but I don’t care and we will all be in for a treat if she comes up this way next year (although not if she starts at 1-33!) http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=black+caviar&aq=f

From Newmarket Nightmare to Freaky Frankel Fightback

As predicted, the Nan at Newmarket ninth decade celebration (http://palphabet.blogspot.com/2011/10/enjoyment-is-eternal.html) ended in despair as I chased losses and ended up around £600 down, backing short-priced favourites with reckless beer-blinded abandon, throwing all strategic research out the window.

I have to say, HQ premier enclosure disappointed somewhat: bar staff who didn't seem to know the difference between a pint of Guinness and a gin & tonic; security staff who wouldn't let my grandparents out onto the viewing gallery until they had necked their drinks (not an easy feat, even for my relatives, when you're more used to sipping than supping); staff in general who may have been drafted in for a particularly busy day but who really didn't represent the Cambs / Suffolk border in the way one would have expected. 

Ascot's Champions' Day, on the other hand, did not disappoint.  Some staff passes afforded entry into otherwise prohibited parts of the track, and at no point anywhere did men in orange vests attempt to curtail our enjoyment by demanding we take drinks inside.  Neither did any barmen or women need me to explain how to pour a drink.

The previous week's losses of a Monkey and a bag of hooves were more or less replenished thanks to hefty performances from Deacon Blues, Opinion Poll (TBP), hefty stakes on horse-of-a-generation Frankel, and hefty tipping from Mr Tom Segal, who we all followed in on the final handicap of the day, netting a 28-1 winner and a 17-1 place (Edinburgh Knight and Castles in the Air respectively) and returning just shy of 300 quid.

I'll let some pictures tell the rest of the story - we had a great day and I'd also like to recommend you check out beatboxing supremos Duke (@dukeofficial), who rounded off the ceremonies with a fantastic array of lip & tongue techniques not seen put to such good use since Emmanuelle IV.

You can see the look of love - and they both have the same smile :)

Trainer and owner soul-shake

Two Princes

Queeny and Queally share a moment

Ronnie Wood meets someone with fuller lips than Mick Jagger

Characters

The Irony

After years of stalking, I meet Brazil

YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!

I'm going to start making more than just mental notes of referees' names and their disconcertingly frequent penchant for ignoring the laws of Association Football, particularly whilst in charge of the proceedings on-pitch at Leyton Orient's Brisbane Road.  

Coote: Cunte

I got 2 right, didn't I?  No.

Two have stuck out in recent weeks: David Coote (left) officiating in the middle of our Tuesday night defeat to AFC Bournemouth a few weeks ago; and Oliver Langford (right) who was so so awful yesterday that home and away fans alike joined vocally together to berate him with a round of "YDKWYD" after he gave us a goal kick when it was clearly a Sheffield United corner, ignoring his assistant referee who was vigorously waving his flag to indicate that the ball had deflected at least 20 degrees off of a red-socked lower-leg.

If you have any rogue refs to add to the gallery, let me know.  I will try to report more comprehensively on the inadequacy of lower-league officials as the rest of the season unfolds - they really do seem to want to ruin it for everyone. 

DP

Enjoyment is Eternal

Today I'm venturing out for a day's racing with a twist - it's all been organised by my Auntie Wendy as a birthday celebration for my Nan (Rita), who turns 80 today!

Me & my Nan sharing a joke about something undoubtedly hilarious

What better way to celebrate the landmark of becoming an octogenarian than meeting at the local for a fry-up, boarding a luxury mini-bus / coach (at what point does a mini-bus become a coach?) and heading up the M11 to Newmarket?  After the day is done, we are due to return to The Thatcher’s (nestled in the village of Hatfield Heath on the east Herts/west Essex border) for a hearty evening meal before staying at my parents’ crib. http://www.thatcherspub.co.uk/

The family fun-day will no doubt, however, be marred.  As my mum & dad enjoy the entertainment of £2 punts at the bookies’ stalls and my brothers pick horses by their amusing names, I’ll have already placed hefty wagers on Betfair and will be looking to top up with hearty cash injections at the mundane tote desk.. and whilst the rest of the family will board the return coach / mini-bus with laughter and merriment, I’ll be bringing the tone down having lost a couple of hundred quid by moaning all the way back from the Cambridgeshire-Suffolk border. Looking forward.

The P&L got a little boost last night, laying off the 1-2 scoreline in Montenegro £150 at 1.4 and walking away with £75 profit from the butchery in the black mountains.  Having put £75 at 9.8 on “any unquoted scoreline” I had thought that I would be quids-in after an early flurry of goals, and I was most disappointed to see Roondog getting sent off, having backed £20 of my hard-earned on him to score at 2.32.

Today, I like the look of Strong Suit in the first at Newmarket, and will be taking on Power in the Dewhurst.. but, all jokes about misery aside, the thing I am anticipating most is the prospect of uncovering 2012’s Frankel.  There’s a colt called Trumpet Major also running in the 3.10 today that I’ve backed antepost for the 2000 Guineas having seen him finish second at Ascot in the summer under Ryan Moore.  A look at his record on http://www.irishracing.com/v5horseinfo?prt=422893 reveals a liking for Newmarket, so I will seek him out at the track.  Funnily enough, he was brought to my attention by my fiancée, who backed him due to his cheerful moniker, so what do I know?  Johnny Murtagh is on-board this afternoon http://www.racingpost.com/horses/home.sd?story=927915&argument=779114

As I write this, Wales seem to have demolished a tired-looking Irish XV down under.. The score stands at IRE 10-22 WAL with 5 mins to go.  I had put £7 on Ireland at 55s before the tournament begun (following Will Greenwood's Betfair tip), but having layed off the All-Blacks with a £100 exposure, I will also profit if Wales [or any other nation for that matter] proceed to lift the World Cup.  With their stalwart defence and inventive attack, they look a quality outfit, and perhaps only their kicks let them down slightly this morning.

Happy Birthday to my Nan: 80 years old today and still fully enjoying - that's what it's all about, isn't it?

DP

ps. one more thing - I met Alan Partridge this week, cheers!

I combined a business card with the handshake... hopefully not giving AP a papercut

Punting can be fun, but don't end up Falling Underwater..

I heard the ex-snooker player and suicide-survivor Willie Thorne on Hawksbee & Jacob's talkSPORT show earlier today:

http://www.talksport.co.uk/radio/hawksbee-and-jacobs/blog/2011-09-20/willie-thorne-snooker-county-cricket-and-being-bald-21

He's just written a book about his life, which is littered with references to his battle with depression.  This will surprise many members of the public who, like myself, thought Thorne was a happy-go-lucky sort of chap with an excellently sculpted moustache and a wife who is clearly a couple of metaphorical boxing divisions above him. 

Entitled "Taking a Punt on my Life", and I'm paraphrasing / guessing here as I have not read it, his autobiography recollects a career in snooker that provided Big Willie's only viable option for making much-needed money to pay back an ever-increasing number of loan sharks to whom debts spiralled out of control.  These lenders, Willie stressed, were not the nicest of people.



http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2037899/Willie-Thorne-Snooker-star-discusses-sucide-attempt-new-autobiography.html?ito=feeds-newsxml

Now, this blog is primarily about gambling, trading, playing the markets... call it what you will.  Until the day that I lay every horse in a race or offer odds on every conceivable event, I am a first and foremost, a backer.  They say you never find a poor bookie, so I would love to be able to use the Betfair interface to play the role of the bookie at all times and thus fall into that utopian category.. but I prefer to punt. 

I like the thrill of it rather than the business of it.  Don't get me wrong, there are times when I will trade and masquerade as the bookmaker. Take last week, for example: having backed Roger Federer to beat Nole Djokovic in the US Open semi-final, I layed off the Swiss when he had his two match points and fell to 1.06 on the exchange. Having been in an almost identical position the year before, I had declined that option...and lost £425.  I went to bed that night feeling ill.  This year I had learnt my lesson, and walked away from the match virtually unscathed.  But I still lost £300 laying 0-0 in the QPR v Newcastle game (how that ended goalless I do not know) and my UK Betfair P&L for the past 11 days may disturb those of a nervous disposition:

Boxing: -£34.50 | Cricket: £103.76 | Horse Racing: £13.62 | Soccer: -£159.80 | Tennis: -£372.66 | Total P&L:  -£449.58

Listening to Willie on the wireless earlier made me think how lucky I am to live in the age where blogging means I can be open and honest to my readers, even if the numbers of my online readership does fail to outnumber the total amount of goals scored by Leyton Orient so far this season.

He said that he bottled up his problems with gambling, lied to his family and friends, and woke up in the middle of the night, his mind reeling with stress and depression trying to deal with it all.  I wake up in the middle of the night and all I want to do is post on Twitter about my thoughts surrounding the overnight developments in some far-away golf or snooker tournament, or check the Met office's forecast for the next day's weather overhead at the home of cricket.

We live in an age where every advertisement break brings you face-to-face with Ray Winstone telling you to "Bet in Play..NAAAAW", Will Hills bombarding you with old-skool hip-hop beats, and Paddy Power promotions using hot girls with a hint of irony to appeal to the cheeky chancers amongst us.  There is temptation all around.  But there are also myriad sites and organisations that can help those feeling their heinous habit of parting with their cash to bolster their beliefs is running away from them.  There is more opportunity than ever to get your thoughts out in the open.  Willie has done his bit to help, and although he had a reputation for choking at the baize (which he says is mainly due to the fact that he was under more pressure to make money from snooker than most), my admiration for him has certainly been enhanced by hearing him air his opinions out loud, in the open and with a frankness that many punters, gamblers or traders could benefit from facing up to.

Don't Gamble with Friendly Chinese Girls

Did you know that in China, you can't use Twitter, you can't update your status on Facebook, and you can't legally gamble? Despite the fact that I have spent many an hour at a London Blackjack table next to many tea-drinking, coughing and spluttering Chinamen and women, in their own domestic superpower, it is forbidden.


I therefore felt like a sophisticated hacker when, upon reaching my Shanghai hotel last Sunday, I punched my password into the excellent iBetMate App (@betwaregames) and was presented with the familiar screen allowing me access to many money-making market opportunities, and the dubious pleasure of consulting my P&L.


It read thus:

Horse Racing: £10.15 | Tennis: £32.24  Total P&L:  £42.39


My £25 e/w on the talented Chubby Chandler / Lee Westwood-owned Hoof It had covered my stake, returning a measly profit of a tenner for his third-place finish, Murray had done it the hard way, coming back from a couple of sets down against Robin Haase and proving my lay of the Dutchman at 1.5 correct.  The ODI cricket, in which I was exposed to the tune of about £60, was called off and so all bets were void.

I headed out onto the streets of Shangers, taking in the sights on the Bund, dodging bicycles and spitting women who inhabit the lanes off the beaten track, and finally ate some chicken feet: skin, bones and cartilage spiced with a tangy chili glaze. Yum.  Then I met two chicks who took me to a "Tea Tasting Ceremony" in some little establishment, where I paid about £35 for 90 minutes tea-tasting, investing £100 in some of the leaves, before learning later that this classic scam had done me up like a kipper! Was I really that lacking in street-wise nous?  I thought I was enjoying a traditional experience, practised by the easterners since the days of the Ming Dynasty.  Turns out, they had made this Ming a mong :(

http://www.tripadvisor.in/ShowTopic-g294211-i642-k1172540-Tea_Ceremony_Scam_in_Shanghai_BEWARE-China.html

Beware the cute little tea experts!

The remainder of my trip was successful. Despite being able to gamble, I just couldn't really keep abreast of things out there, so I left it all alone.  I landed home on Friday morning, caught up on some admin and managed to make up for a week off from Betfair with a torrid day's trading:

Cricket: -£105.90 | Tennis: -£39.50  Total P&L:  -£145.40

And that's just the UK wallet!  Having backed England vs India at the Oval, I became convinced that the visitors would triumph, with newly drafted all-rounder Jadeja looking impressive. Over on Ashe, I was let down by Roddick's failure to keep up with Nadal's power, who blasted into the final four 3-0 (the set bet scoreline I had laid!) to join the other top seeded racquet wielders. 

Down under, having transferred a £100 war-chest into Betfair's Australian wallet (which also allows you to punt on events occurring in NZ and Tasmania.. looking forward to the National Tasmanian Devil Derby later this year), I promptly lost small stakes on New Zealand to win their opener against Tonga by +70.5 pts on the handicap and Dan Carter to score more than 17.5 individual points - I had £50 on that at 1-2 and was cursing the gorgeous egg-chasing record-breaker as he missed a couple of easy kicks and finished short of my required mark.

My long-term bets for the tournament are £7 on Ireland to win outright at 54-1 with a view to laying off later, and England to win the whole thing: £30 at 18.5.

I'm going to sign off and make a nice English Breakfast cup of Twinings tea, add a drop of milk, and drink it (without slurping or sucking it down like the Shanghai locals) whilst watching England take on the Argies.. no idea what to bet on so will consider the RP's advice of England to win by >11.5pts.


I'm also going to have Wilkinson to score more than 13.5pts, backing at 1.75 with £40.

Xie Xie!!