First and
foremost, let me be entirely apologetic about being so useless and not doing a
blog where you can laugh at me for about 3 months. So much has happened since I
was landing bets on reality TV shows and acting like I’d won the Scoop 6. There
are winners to talk about and losers to moan about. Here goes…
I wrote the
majority of this blog aboard an overnight ferry to Portsmouth. There was a man
snoring and I was only just odds-against to go over to him and tell him my
views. My views would probably be “Stop snoring mate, I’m try to write a blog
here” and he would reply “Piss off mate, you sad creature”. I could’ve flown
and it would take about 20 minutes if the elastic band to propel the plane and
the winds were strong enough but instead I’ve chose a 13-hour journey instead.
I got free coffee and biscuits so who’s the real winner? Not me.
My fear of
flying largely relates to my fear of dying (obviously!) but slowly over time I
start to realise this is silly. Once you’ve backed enough rugby handicap or
points bets that gets beaten after time is up, you learn to accept the
inevitable. I’m not sure if a plane was going down and I popped up with “this
reminds me of the numerous times a New Zealand Super Rugby team has beaten my
bet with a try including a knock-on and forward pass and 5 minutes after the 80th
minute” would really help my fellow passengers though.
Since the
last time I blogged, the Olympics has happened. It was a sublime time for us
absolute degenerate scrote punters. There was so much awful stuff to bet on and
if you were clever enough, you could find remarkable value. The events I had
placed so much emphasis on was the Cycling and the Rugby 7s. In the end the
cycling went okay including some excellent very short priced lays of in-running
favourites on the horrendous road race course and just backing anything British
in the velodrome.
The Rugby 7s
was an entirely different beast. I lost and I lost and I lost. Even when I
should’ve won, I lost. Time has passed now and I have mentally blocked some of
the pain, but the low moment was when I backed Argentina +4.5 vs Great Britain
in the QFs in a single price double with the unders. It was sort of 9/4 and 5/2
about the plus handicap and the unders points landing and the weather was
awful. Instead of just perming all the unders, like all my mates did, I got
greedy chasing losses from the previous day(s) and permed all the handicap/points
doubles. It was going remarkably well but I had some losers in there and I only
came out of the evening with a minor profit. I should have chopped it off on an
unders accumulator that paid 20/1 but instead left with winnings at about 1/5.
As I mentioned, the Great Britain – Argentina match was a particular lowlight.
The unders was always going to land but it was 0-0. I just needed an Argentine
try or a team to kick a penalty or a drop goal and I was done with. Argentina missed
a penalty in the last seconds of the game and the match finished 0-0. Yes, 0-0.
This may sound like a winner and I thought so at the time too, but it wasn’t.
My bet with Paddy Power included extra-time which is half the reason I got good
odds on these outcomes, it turns out. Always read the rules. Not to worry, all
I needed was Argentina to score a try to win the game or either side to kick a
drop goal/penalty for my bet to win and the dream of a jackpot still alive. Not
to be. Britain won a penalty and took the drop goal option. Brilliant I
thought. Not to be. When you’re a punter, bad beats that seem impossible become
real. The drop goal hit the post and luckily bounced to a British player who
ran it in the corner for a try. 5-0 to Great Britain after Extra Time and I was
in tatters. Absolute pieces.
The swimming
was another area where I both excelled in finding horrendous disgraceful bets
to place and managing to get a bead beat. I had placed a load of horrible
selections in a Yankee with Stan James including Katinka Hosszu (the Hungarian
with the crazy husband coach). Stan’s rules were hopelessly inefficient for the
Olympic Swimming and meant that any swimmer that DNS was counted as a void NR,
a luxury that no other bookmaker had been silly enough to offer. I needed all
four swimmers to win because it was the end of my new betting account with them
either way, win or lose. They even let me perm selections that contained the
same swimmer but in different events. Hosszu was the standout swimmer in her
division, over the various distances and I had her in twice. She won her first
event and was huge favourite for her final event. She traded 1.1 and shorter
for sure but got done on the line. I actually slept through the gubbing but
woke up to numerous Whatsapps and Twitter DMs informing me of the disgraceful
bad beat we had all just been involved in. I ended up taking out about an 8/1
winner from singles, doubles and a speculative Yankee but it could’ve been a 50/1
and I was huge odds-on to land a touch. It wasn’t to be. Isn’t that always the
case?
There were
some other great results from the Olympics but the one that stood out was Van
Niekerk to win the 400m. Betting Emporium had put up him as value at the odds-against
quoted and I had word from someone else that he should be 1/10. Another person
I respect on their athletics compiling also had him super skinny compared to
their competitors and all the stars aligned for me to have a fairly sizable bet
on him. He qualified rather easily, albeit not great against the clock which
game him a poor lane draw. He drifted and he drifted. I topped up at 6/4 but
unfortunately at this point I had been burning the candle at both ends for far
too long and desperately needed an early night to catch up on sleep. When I
awoke the next morning not only did I see that he had won with a World Record,
but also that he had drifted out to 15/8 and 2/1 sort of prices. I would’ve
gone in again but my sleep won out. It was still a brilliant result and kept me
going with some much needed cash.
The Olympics
also provided me with one of the best bets I have ever placed, without even
knowing it. Some colleagues of mine had been talking up the betting on the
Olympics Water Polo and I finally succumbed and watched a match. The match in
question was Brazil women vs USA women and the hosts were massive underdogs and
massively terrible. I had a bet on the unders on the basis that USA were hosing
up and would ease off. The unders was actually never in danger, despite the
Americans indeed hosing up. The true value and the funniest times were in the 4th
Quarter when USA took their keeper off. Now bear in mind the USA keeper was
unbelievable. I initially had a bet on Brazil to score a goal in the 4th
quarter at 9/4. It landed fairly quickly and I was 100% on Water Polo. What a
time to be alive. I also realised that the substitute keeper was far below the
standard of her team-mate and the USA didn’t care because they were about 13-0
up at this time. I had a bet on Brazil to win the 4th Quarter at 4/1,
even though they were already 1-0 up. I also had a bet on them to score over
1.5 goals at 3/1. Brazil did indeed score again and they won the 4th
Quarter 3-0 if I recall correctly. It really was shirt off and pants down time.
I had won in total about £250 off women’s Water Polo and there was nobody in
the World who couldn’t tell me it wasn’t the shrewdest set of bets I had ever
placed. I’m already looking forward to Japan in 2020 to take advantage of
similar women’s Water Polo ricks.
Once the
Olympics were over, it was time to return to more important matters, such as
losing all my credibility, hair and money on rugby league betting. I had agreed
and booked to go to London to see the Challenge Cup with my best friends from
university. I had accidentally managed to have £30 on Hull FC to win the
Challenge Cup at 28/1 when the first prices came out the previous year and they
had somehow made it through to the final. A quick note, I backed Catalans at
similarly huge prices and I only I could be cursed to hit the wrong sort of
“winner” because they drew each other in the quarter final. Hull FC were the
first ball out of the bag and Catalans were the second. Absolutely cursed. But yes, Hull had reached
the final and I had something to support – sort of! I was fully aware that if
Hull were to win, it would merely help pay for some of the weekend as I knew it
was going to be full of sweat and regret. Hull won a game which Warrington
should’ve won on the bridle and I had some money to spend.
Oh and then
the betting Gods or some sort of God decided to get involved and return me back
to my rightful place. I left my phone in the back of a London cab. What an
absolute disaster. It wasn’t an expensive phone but the inevitable telling off
from the other half about how useless I am brought me back to Earth good and
proper. I am genuinely useless though. I have lost countless debit and credit
cards. Countless amounts of phones. I’m only ever Evens at best to make it
through the next 6 months without losing my phone or wallet.
After living
like kings in London, or as much as we thought we were living like kings, by
forgetting the existence of the tube and getting cabs everywhere. Uber? For peasants
that. Pay £75 for a cab instead. Same journey on the tube costs pennies you
say? For peasants that. How awful. What remarkably ridiculous human beings we
were acting. We went to the casino, despite us insisting that under no
circumstances were we going to the casino. We arrived at the casino in a rickshaw.
The poor lad who carried about 50 stone of pissed up Yorkshire lads up a
relatively big hill in Central London may not have made it through the night.
But we gave him a decent tip. It was probably a fiver or a tenner. We thought
it was huge, but we’re from Yorkshire. Tipping is just not a thing there. Ever.
He got about £20 out of us for 5 mins work but probably needs physiotherapy for
the next 6 months. I hope he is okay.
September
overall was an excellent month. One of my best months in a long time and I took
great pleasure in aftertiming some horse racing wins to my friends. I rarely
aftertime and when I do, I do it in the privacy of Twitter DMs where the impact
is bigger. They can’t pretend they haven’t seen it and I don’t get the
Aftertime Ansell treatment on the timeline. I’m fully aware you don’t come here
to read about the winners though. I like it that you can laugh at me about the
losers. One such was loser was laying Man United at 8/11 at home to Leicester.
What an awful bet to lay. But I did. I got ridiculous #bantz for it. Deserved
of course. I always loved what Harry Findlay said and it’s to be a good loser
and a horrible winner. I always try to do that. If I win it’s all “I’m the
shrewdest” and if I lose its “I’m a degenerate and I appreciate your abuse”.
It’s the right way to do it. Actually, I do lose quite badly on occossions but
only when some jumped-up rugby union ref cannot officiate a game properly and
costs me money. This is the only circumstance it is okay. I think.
I followed
up with a winner of the Arc. I had been put onto La Cressionaire by an
excellent colleague of mine and I had suitably loaded up. When she came out I
got stuck into Found and managed to snag myself a winner of the Arc. A winner
of the Arc indeed. This is another case of me sleeping through a winning bet. I
had stayed up late to watch the Argentina – New Zealand Rugby Championship
match in Buenos Aires and then had only a few hours sleep before I was up to get
involved in the NRL Finals where I did my pieces backing Melbourne pre-match
and in-play. They had a chance to win it and I had got involved in them at huge
prices at the very end of the match. 100/1 and 33/1 for tenners seems crazy now
but that’s what I managed and they could’ve won. Maybe should’ve. It wasn’t to
be.
Anyway, this
has been a momentous blog and I hope it has helped me redeem some self-respect
from when I said I would do this weekly. I should’ve mentioned that the reason
for that 13hr ferry journey was because I came back to England to watch the Super
League Grand Final and I was suitably loaded up on Warrington to beat Wigan. Warrington
should’ve indeed won comfortably but couldn’t put points on the board. I lost
my voice after 5 minute by relentlessly shouting “Ger’em onside” every single
tackle. Not sure the crowd were too pleased with that. Later on in the night we
were in the middle of an argument where both sides were threatening to kill
each other and we were just stood there enjoying the drama. That was until the
two groups were going their separate ways and a girl threw some beer that
landed on me. I lost a fortune and had beer thrown on me. Oh and no voice too.
This wasn’t how I imagined it would’ve gone. I was supposed to be swimming in
Warrington winnings and instead I was at Old Trafford (an awful place) and just
wanting to go home and nurse my wounded dignity. The Summer was excellent but I
fear Warrington losing was the onset of a horrible, cold and loser-ridden
Winter for me.
2500+ words.
Phew. Well done if you made it through all of it. Thanks for reading and pray
for me over the Winter, I might need them prayers. Oh and blankets. Lots of
blankets.