What's The Point? - Horse Racing

Horse racing. The Sport of Queens. Also known as the ‘wee wees’, presumably due to the propensity for over excited punters to emit a small amount of urine during very tight races. Legend has it that all horses today are descended from just three specimens. That doesn’t sound much, but it is one more than humans can lay claim to - and come to think of it what did that third horse do? Watch?

As a popular topic on Betting Bias, the racing tipster felt I should experience this so-called sport first hand. So we headed down to Sandown Park for a day at the races. Usually, the tipster will spend hours studying a horses ‘form’ to decide what to bet on. As far as I can tell, ‘form’ is basically a PE report for a horse, and is filled with apparently useful information such as where the horse ‘issued from’ - a lovely phrase to denote its mother, and the state of its testicles.

But I couldn’t be bothered with all that, so took the easier option of drawing a horse out of a hat. In preparation for this, we spent a productive morning cutting up race cards and placing the rolled up horses names in separate sandwich bags. Then, and although slightly concerned that carrying six bags full of white wraps made us look suspect, we proceeded to Sandown.

The rules were simple, I pick a horse out from the bag and we have to bet £10 on it. If we won, the good news would be financial abundance. The bad news is that it would prove all this form business was a waste of time, and therefore raise serious doubts about the point of Betting Bias.

Before the start of the first race we headed to the ‘parade ring’. This is where you can look at the horses, which can apparently help you work out who will win. Thankfully the parade ring had a helpful notice pointing out what you should look out for, which was primarily centred around the buttocks.
I made the first draw, coming out with Brynfa Boy. I eagerly tried to check out its buttocks, but was distracted but its tongue, which it was sticking out like a spoiled child. I asked the tipster if this was a good sign, he thought not. And he was right, as Brynfa Boy came in dead last.

Not a great start. But on to the next race, and again I succeeded in pulling out a rank outsider - Forevertheoptimist. But rules are rules and we put our £10 on at 12/1. Then something incredible happened, our horse took the lead from the start! How exciting. However my elation appeared to be premature as it got overtaken, only for it to fight back and go ‘toe to toe’ with the leader. Could it overtake again? We both started shouting like loons, I experienced first hand the meaning of the ‘wee wees’, and then yes, it came out in front at the last minute and we were £120 richer.

My method seemed foolproof. And word must have quickly spread as punters jumped on my next selection, Tigers Tale. Originally at 25/1, the odds dropped to 20/1 as I queued at the ‘rail’ (this is where all the bookies hang out under umbrellas, but disappointingly do not make any hand gestures, apparently using a mobile is easier).

This is when I made a big mistake. I left the queue to find better value with a bookie with an even bigger umbrella, but by the time I got there the odds were down to 18/1. The market was moving faster than our first horse, and in the end I had to settle for 14/1.

With a £10 bet, my mistake could cost us over a £100 if the horse won. So I wasn’t too disappointed when it didn’t. We did have some momentary excitement as the tipster claimed our horse was catching up to the leader, but that turned out to be another horse which just looked similar. Disappointing.

That race spelt the end of our winning run, and even picking out the favourite for the last race didn’t help. But not to worry, we were up on the day, hence proving that all you need to win at the races is a pair of scissors, six small sandwich bags and the patience to cut up a race card.