I, Punter

Photo by Khamkéo Vilaysing on Unsplash That’s the last time I listen to George Benson.  But more of that later. I mostly work from home now.  Before COVID this would have been unthinkable, but within four weeks of the first lockdown being announced in March 2020 I was working off the dining room table.  After thirty-five years spent in an office environment this was a sudden but surprisingly pleasant change and the start of what turned out to be quite a cosy pandemic for yours truly.  I am one of the lucky ones who have yet to see two red lines appear on a COVID test, even when at one point I was living in a house where my wife and two daughters all had it and I was unable to isolate from them due to severe autism (not mine) which is no respecter of personal space.  There are some people, mostly Daily Hatred readers, that assume working from home is a licence to skive but this is not my experience of it and a view largely born out of jealousy and political ideo...

Photo by Sam Moghadam Khamseh on Unsplash . Last weekend was a winning one and we are now betting with the bookmaker’s money.  But more of that later. This week it dawned on me that I will never be a pop star.  Even now in my mid-fifties I thought it was just a matter of time.  I can’t sing, I can’t dance, I can’t play an instrument…all of the ingredients were there.  The arrival of my new driving licence has shattered that dream.  The photograph looks even worse than it did under the stark lighting of the Post Office.  According to my eldest daughter I look like a Mexican bandit without the hat, which if you know me is hilarious, but a more miserable Mr. Meaker from Rentaghost - one for the kids there - is probably closer to the mark.  Either way it is not the face of a future pop idol.  I just hope the members of my band Poxy Music don’t try to carry on without me when I break the news to them that I am giving up on my dream.  I was always...

The capitulation of last Saturday’s selections was a mere hors d’oeuvres compared to Sunday’s main course of misery.  But more of that later. I have been on leave this week and on Monday I found myself strolling around Notts County’s training ground.  Actually it was Bransby Horses Rescue and Welfare in Lincolnshire but it may as well have been County’s training ground given the number of donkeys on display.  If you like horses and are ever near Lincoln it’s definitely worth a visit and a free day out if you can resist the cafe and gift shop, although I have yet to manage this.   Later in the week I went into Mansfield and found myself walking through the Four Seasons Shopping Centre (I know what you’re thinking, this guy rocks a week off work).  If you want to experience the post apocalypse, ten minutes spent wandering around the Four Seasons will provide this.  I was there to renew my driving licence at the Post Office, which now exists in reduced c...

Photo by Alex on Unsplash . This is a blog about gambling. I like gambling.  I am a good gambler. I am not a good gambler because I have made a fortune from betting.  I have never won big, I have never lost big. I am a good gambler because I have never bet more than I can afford to lose.  It does not feel like a kick in the balls when a bet fails to land.  I have never thought betting an avenue to riches but rather a rewarding hobby in the literal sense.  Most of all I am a good gambler because I am not addicted to it.  Even when I have been chasing losses, as soon as my betting pot is empty I am able to walk away.  I am the first to acknowledge I am very lucky in that respect. Someone less fortunate than myself is Patrick Foster, the subject and co-author of Might Bite: The secret life of a gambling addict (Bloomsbury Sport 2022).  Foster is not a good gambler.  By Chapter 13 he has thrown away three promising careers, turned over more than ...