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Betting on the ponies
I've never been particularly keen on the battery chicken horses in thoroughbred racing, but I must say you can certainly spot the quality around Melbourne Cup time. So You Think is one heck of a good-looking horsie. Husband displays significantly less enthusiasm for the sport than I, and apart from a mystical belief* in The Power of Lotto (cue angelic chorus), he has no interest in gambling either, so I was a little surprised when he came home with a trifecta bet on the MC that displayed not a little attention to form with the dash of wishful thinking that rakes in the big money:
1. So You Think
2. Profound Beauty
3. Americain
WTF?
The first giveaway was his reference to the horse "So Do You Think?" Perhaps he hadn't studied the form after all. Another part of the mystery was resolved when he said it was a free $1 bet that came with the newspaper**. Final piece of the puzzle: it was a random bet. Nice random bet though. I think it's got a hope in hell, if hell were made from mud and was located in Melbourne.
P.S. The one and only time I went to the races a horse broke its leg and was subsequently shot RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE. OK, the actual shooting part was behind the screens (but still in front of my face), but way to traumatise a young teenage wannabe horsie girl. The internet is slow and my googlefu is weak so I can only report that National Gallery the ex-parrotracehorse was a WA Turf Club Group 1 racer out of My Tricia. (OMG MY MOTHER'S NAME IS PATRICIA). Deep breaths.
(*) Husband has no mystical beliefs associated with random events.
(**) Husband retains a mystical belief in the power of newsprint, although he's never really recovered from the loss of The Bulletin and the descent of The Australian into unreadable partisan swill.
1. So You Think
2. Profound Beauty
3. Americain
WTF?
The first giveaway was his reference to the horse "So Do You Think?" Perhaps he hadn't studied the form after all. Another part of the mystery was resolved when he said it was a free $1 bet that came with the newspaper**. Final piece of the puzzle: it was a random bet. Nice random bet though. I think it's got a hope in hell, if hell were made from mud and was located in Melbourne.
P.S. The one and only time I went to the races a horse broke its leg and was subsequently shot RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE. OK, the actual shooting part was behind the screens (but still in front of my face), but way to traumatise a young teenage wannabe horsie girl. The internet is slow and my googlefu is weak so I can only report that National Gallery the ex-
(*) Husband has no mystical beliefs associated with random events.
(**) Husband retains a mystical belief in the power of newsprint, although he's never really recovered from the loss of The Bulletin and the descent of The Australian into unreadable partisan swill.