Today was the Grand National. It comes but once a year and it is like an accepted norm to have a little flutter. I put bets on three different horses and made them each way. OK it cost a little more and by choosing three horses my belief was the odds were much more in my favour. However, this was not so. It was another day of loss, just like those over the last few years where my bets have not come in. One of the horses I bet on was put down as it had broken or fractured it's leg badly. Last night when I was in the pub I said to my fellow drinkers how I had failed to select a winner each year and suggested whatever it was I betted on they should not choose for themselves. What an epitaph. Here lay the world's greatest loser! How can it be possible year after year to make a bet and to consistently lose? Statistically surely there has to of been a likelihood I would of won on one occasion, unless of course all my luck is being saved up and it will occur all at once. It's like the national lottery, I would select my six balls each week for two years and I barely ever got a single ball picked up from the lotto machine. Somewhere in the world there is another person who is having my share of luck. If luck is dished out at birth then I must of been getting my arse spanked at the time and missed the cue. It's another to make a grown man cry let alone a baby. Maybe I should never be a gambler, not even the once a year kind it's clearly an aversive activity to lucky streak. Or rather an enhancer to my losing streak. I don't mind losing, just not as often at it appears I have been. I mean, man can not live by bread alone, a lucky ticket helps every once in a while.
The choice of horses this year was based on their name rather than on their form. I had used form before and it didn't work, so I thought why bother this time round. My three geegees were chosen because I just liked what they were called, each name had some kind of hit-you-in-the-face coincidence about them. I thought such coincidences were omens. They should be followed, pursued because of their underlying meaning, whatever it may be. Well, if they had meaning it was lost on me. The winner had a weird name and I would never of chosen it in any circumstances because of it's name. Neptune Collange I think it was called. Except for the Neptune bit it was a forgettable name. Except the horse was pale. Apparently the first grey to win the National since 1961. Which is sometime ago. There were about five or six pale horses in he race and had I just selected all of them then y chances would of been somewhat higher. If there is a next time and I go for colour then I'm sure it will be the wrong one as well. Such is the luck of the unlucky.
Regardless it was a good afternoon at the pub. Layabout Lad came with me and he said it was fun. I put a bet on for him and he said it was the first time he had betted. As he doesn't have much in the way of funds, its unlikely he will do it again anytime soon. But he enjoyed the change and it was good to get him out of his room. Maybe next time I will just roll a pair of dice and cross my fingers, mind it was for the fun not any other reason. However, if I do come up on the lottery one day, the millions would come in handy, then I'd by my own race horse and call it Lucky.
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