Breaking the silence
What happened there? Write a post
in February, blink your eyes and the next thing it’s Halloween. The hottest Summer
since 1976 proved to be a barren desert for this blog. Arctic interludes are already muscling a
benign Autumn out of the way and I haven’t yet dealt with the Spring festivals.
Picking up the baton from
that February missive, I feel it is time to draw to a close the hairy tale of
the Grab-a-Grand initiative. The deal, you may or may not remember, involved a work
colleague investing a straight £1,000 with which I would gamble over the course
of the Jumps season. In return, come April, I’d present him with a guaranteed
£1,100. A six-month 10% profit margin that he would never secure in the High
Street banks. My incentive was that any profit I made over £1,100 was mine to keep.
An investment of a grand would provide me with the raw materials for bigger,
bolder bets. I was confident of a 30-40% return on investment.
That February blog reported
the notching of my worst ever, ever punting run: a 38-bet tale of woe in
pursuit of profits on that grand investment. I also chronicled some Cheltenham
ante-post action. Those two subjects intertwined neatly when the latter became my
salvation in regard to the former. A barn-storming Festival, courtesy of decent
bets on the gorgeous Shattered Love, the canny Benie Des Dieux and the tough
Rathvinden, together with a more productive Spring campaign all round, turned
my losses in to a profit.
Heady with this hard-won success,
I offered Pete the chance to take his guaranteed investment up to a £200 return
by October. Naturally, he bit my hand off. My greed, in turn, bit me in the
arse. A double metaphorical masticating injury. I contrived to lose bucket
loads of cash on half-hearted handicap plots and dithering pattern race punts. Keen
to draw the exercise to a close, I paid up Pete’s £1200 in late August, thereby
negating the chances of losing over the Summer everything I had scrambled to
bank over the Winter.
Building from my colleague’s £1,000
investment in October 2017, I had retained a profit of £274 by the time the
transaction closed, down from £440 in April, meaning I trousered a puny £74
after paying over Pete’s guaranteed £1200. Pfft.
I have mixed feelings about
the experiment. Clearly the profits were not what I’d hoped for. The mistaken Summer
extension saw a return to lilly-livered punting on horses about which I had
little opinion. Yet the NH campaign was a blast. Even before the sphincter-busting 38-bet losing
run had ended, there was a residual nugget of confidence that matters could be
turned around.
The Festivals were a chance
to have decent bets which topped up, for once, a profitable ante-post
portfolio. In fact, I had very little ante-post betting before the middle of
February. Activity began to ratchet up in the fortnight before the meeting,
when value began to spill around. Some firms went non-runner, no-bet while
others were still ante-post. Coupled with the clarifying of targets, there was
opportunity to take a chance on some fancy prices.
I backed Rathvinden at 16/1
for the National Hunt Chase when Willie Mullins said in his stable tour that he
was a likely runner (though as Tony Keenan said just after the festival, “that’s
not a cast-iron guarantee, I’ll grant you”). Rathvinden won at 9/2. The same
with Shattered Love, whom I backed at 14/1 for the JLT after Elliot declared
her for that race (I gather 20s were also available). She won at 4/1.
And here we are at the start
of the jumps again. Bacchy has circulated his Twelve To Follow competition for
the season and markets are already forming around bankers for some of the
Festival’s defining races: Kalashnikov for the Arkle? Samcro for the Champion
Hurdle? Faugheen for the Stayers? And Altior v Footpad for the Champion Chase
could be a modern-day classic.
I’m looking forward to seeing
Monalee in open company, Black Op over fences and, at the other end of the
experience scale, a couple of Fergal O’Brien bumper horses in Time To Move On
and Strong Glance. Paul Nicholl’s novice hurdler Secret Investor was impressive
in the Persian War a couple of weeks ago.
The boys have already had our
say. Over the wreckage of an Indian Diner fantasy cricket curry, the unanimous
shout was to entrust the remains of the whip money to the chances of Presenting
Percy in the Gold Cup.
Cheltenham opened its door
last Friday and the Charlie Hall meeting at Wetherby this coming Friday and Saturday
sees the first high quality meeting of the season. Banish those Flat blues (and
pay no more than cursory attention to the events at Churchill Downs this
weekend), we are all about the jumps. And I’m ready.
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