Printer Friendly

Canine capers take the fizz out of bubbly; BETTING LOWS.

LAST weekend was a hair-raising experience then, but I could have been resembling a woolly mammoth with a little bit more luck.

My pounds 80 on Matt Kuchar to win the Barclays at 34 on Betfair was looking jolly well invested when the cheerful American took a one-shot lead into the final round of the weather-ruined 54-hole event on Saturday. Dustin Johnson, though, then started holing bunker shots for eagle and what not, leaving my man as runner-up.

I ended up having the runner-up in the Johnnie Walker Championship too. I was happy enough to see Thomas Bjorn triumph (see Betting Highs), but would have preferred George Coetzee (on whom I had pounds 110 at 42 on Betfair ante-post) to have won instead.

Bjorn and Coetzee were the last pair standing in the five-man playoff, so Bjorn's decisive birdie actually cost me more than a grand. The pals I was drinking with were disgusted with my greed when I looked disappointed to have won 'only' pounds 3,000 rather than pounds 4,510.

En route to that champagne supernova at the harbour, we dived into our favourite Coral shop to have a little tickle on the hound action, and I almost managed to claim another bag of sand. An opening wager of pounds 80 on Trap Five at 2-1 for the 6.57 at Sittingbourne created some momentum and the pounds 160 winnings went straight on Trap Five at 3-1 for the 7.06 at Poole.

Soon after entering the shop, pounds 80 had been turned into pounds 640 and I was on a roll. Trifleface was urging me to pop the wedge in my pocket and depart, but I was hungry to hit the bag-ofsand jackpot and the shop manager was using one of his favourite catchphrases ("Never leave on a winner - it's bad luck!) to lure me in.

Trap Two in the 7.14 at Sittingbourne looked a class apart, so I threw pounds 560 on the little blighter, which opened at 10-11 and drifted to 11-10. Victory would have moulded pounds 80 into pounds 1,256 in just over 17 minutes, but sadly my hound got embroiled in some early skirmishing and I ended up winning (and losing) zero pounds on the session.

Still thirsty for canine capers two days later, I lost pounds 175 backing three losers in the first three races of the live-on-Sky Wimbledon dogs, before pounds 90 on Aero Gaga at 2.94 on Betfair for the 8.35pm marathon drew me back level. The 894-metre dust-up was one of the most exciting dog races I have ever seen, with Gaga clearly gagging to eat the hare and finishing like a ruddy aeroplane.

A timid pounds 30 on Trap Four at 3.8 in the 8.50 put me pounds 80 up, but I lost pounds 280 on the last three races, with Blue Bee's defeat in the 9.10 the decisive hammerblow. A 25-1 rag beat a 9-1 chance in the Grand National, the big race of the night. As Sir Alex Ferguson once didn't say at Camp Nou after the 1999 Champions League final: "Greyhound racing - ruddy hell!"


Thomas Bjorn's victory was bitter sweet
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2011 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Title Annotation:Sports
Publication:The Racing Post (London, England)
Date:Sep 4, 2011
Previous Article:The technology is there and I am more than appy to use it; STEVE PALMER ON SUNDAY.
Next Article:Porridge can't compete with healthy treble; BETTING HIGHS.

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2019 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters