The braveheart gambler

Horse racing isn’t exactly in the winners’ enclosure for students’ top sports. Tiny little men flying around on animals weighing half a tonne won’t have all of us galloping for our TV screens. But, for some, the second week in March every year has us chomping at the bit.

Armed with a €50 budget for the week, this student set about trying to make a few pound at Cheltenham betting on a budget. And of course, it matters more when there’s money on it.

“Just go easy with the cash on the first day,” I told myself walking into the bookie shop Tuesday morning. “Don’t throw away the budget.”

Day 1

Nailed-on. A sure thing. The banker of the festival. Cousin Vinny, Ireland’s best hope of getting the festival off to a flier, flopped. However, my meagre fiver went on another Irish raider, Kempes – a 10-1 shot.

Another one of my pre-race fancies - Go Native - ran out the winner. In truth, he was never troubled.

Although I didn’t win any cash, it’s always nice to see the Irish put one over on the neighbours. Channel 4’s tweed jacket brigade don’t particularly like “the Irish”. It’s worth losing the money to see their begrudging little smiles.

Race two saw another one of Ireland’s top horse’s go to post. Forpadydeplasterer wasn’t given much of a chance in the Cotswolds, but most of Ireland had a flutter on him to bring home the bacon…well, er, except me. I blew my money elsewhere and Paddy flew up the Cheltenham hill to the delight of his legions of fans.

My Old Man always tells me: “If you ever see a horse with Saddlers’ blood in him, back him”. And, going on the strong connection that Tot O’Whiskey has with the legendary Saddlers Wells, I gave him an each way shot for a fiver in the next.

The commentator mentioned him once. Enough said.

One of the first serious bets I ever had was on Brave Inca in the festival back when I was in school. I can remember bringing in a transistor radio and making up some excuse to get out of class to listen to the race. Brave Inca won it by a head and my love affair with the horses began.

Here was the brave horse again, 6 years later in another Champion Hurdle. 25-1 looked good value each way to me. So on went my fiver (and a back-up bet of a tenner on Osana. What?).

Both looked past it, and I learned a hard lesson – there is no place for nostalgia in the bookies.

Day 2

Out of my €50, I had 15 notes left. What was it about not going mental on day one?

Over lunch, I pondered the form of today’s runners and riders. Nothing stood out at me, but luckily I got a text from a close friend who had been tipped-off from an inside source. My trust in him paid off.

Mikael D’Haguenet: Oh how you saved me from thumbing a lift home for the weekend! A €10 win on the 5-2 shot got me back in the game. I was almost back on an even keel.

The big race of the day only had one winner – Master Minded. The bookies had him short priced, and with my low budget it was pointless backing the Paul Nicholls trained horse. So where did the value lie?

Well Chief, an experienced Cheltenham racer, was back after nearly two years off the track. Connections said he was in top form and he was good value at 12-1. So an each-way fiver got me back into the black with the Chief giving a great account of himself to come in second.

And that was day two. The original €50 was now a healthy €55. What’s that Paddy Power? You’ve had enough…for once it wasn’t the bookie that was winning.

Day 3

With a cocky swagger, I walked into the betting shop sure that today was the day for striking gold. Over-confidence is a dangerous thing when gambling. Well, I know that now.

In the first, my tenner went on Kia Kaha a Jonjo O’Neill trained horse. He went off favourite and ended up tenth. A blow, but surely my two bankers of the meet - Voy Por Ustedes and Kasbah Bliss - would come home for me later in the day.

A €20 euro double win on the two seemed like good value. But both never really looked like winning. It’s ironic that I call them bankers – fat, useless and worth too much money, a bit like our current crop of bankers.

Another tenner went down the drain on a donkey I can’t even remember the name of. A day to forget.

Day 4

Scanning the form the next morning, wondering where to put my €15, I felt stumped. It was going to be an uphill battle to regain some pride.

However, something caught my eye as I trudged into the betting shop. It was a copy of my hometown newspaper. In it, jockey Barry Geraghty explained that his best hope of a win was on Zaynar in the first race of the day.

This is what is known as a shot in the dark. But what do you know, he nicked it on the line and I was back in the red. My tenner won me €65. It was time for a victory dance!

A further €10 went on Denman in the Gold Cup – he put up a good fight to come in second, but Kauto was the star of the day.

And so, the festival came to a close. I ended up on a grand total of €55 - €5 in the black. Not spectacular, but hordes of Irish punters coming home from the Cheltenham track done a lot worse, you can be sure of that.

The moral of the story – don’t let the big ‘R’ get to you. Fortune favours the brave. Even if this brave gambler only won the price of a pint.