Would I build on my solid early work or become bloated on the cash, go through a messy divorce and make a cocaine-fuelled hash of it? Well it wasn’t the first option.
The results reminded me of that famous Woody Allen joke from Annie Hall in which he talks about two old ladies in a New York restaurant, complaining about the food.
“I know,” agrees one “and there’s so much of it!”
Well yesterday was plenty of bad picks – and there was so much of it!
The first of the day, you’ll remember, was the JCB Triumph Hurdle - a race that the Irish don’t normally do that well in. Ruby and I kept that trend arcing upwards.
Sam Winner was begging to be backed with a name like that and me drunk on a cocktail of bravado, confidence and another €20 note form the sports editor’s dusty wallet (there was laminated Share sticker in there).
Zarkander took the spoils this time around costing me a fiver. Unaccompanied – the other Irish hope and the subject of several texts that dropped into my phone - put in a good performance on the flat to run into second.
Ted Walsh’s reassurance that Sam Winner is “one to watch in the future,” is little consolation. Can I put potential on the dinner table, Ted?
Next up was Get Me Out of Here. You’ve got to love horse names. Robbie Fowler and Steve McManamman named their one Some Horse to make a fool of the Channel Four commentators, remember. If JP ever asks me to join his syndicate I’d insist our main hope was called I Badly Need The Toilet or something.
And despite the circuitous route from which I found Get Me Out Of Here – he looked a proper horse too. However, having picked six placed horses on Wednesday – and not really reaping any real profit, I decided it was a case of he who dares wins.
When McManus’s hope trotted in second to Final Approach, he was little use to me. So, more accurately it’s a case of he who dares almost wins. And boy was it close. Ruby held out to Tony McCoy by a sliver.
So it was desperation stakes at this stage when a text arrived from The Examiner’s GAA writer Fintan O’Toole, who scrambled over the lines of demarcation into the world of race horses: Bob’s Worth.
He was also the RTE lads nap of the day and was been backed in from 3/1 to 9/4. Having been greedy in the first two I picked him to place. He won obviously.
But Nicky Henderson finally gets off the mark, and I’m up and running too for the day.
And then there’s the Gold Cup. As they often say in the GAA – it was a great day for the association. What a race and despite the result, horse racing was the real winner.
Those, of course, are the wooly, damp words of a loser. Kauto Star was my choice for no real reason other than gut feeling, Ruby and reputation.
But the-six-year-old Long Run romped to a wonderful win. Kauto was nearly caught for third by a stunning run from What A Friend – owned by one Alex Ferguson.
It was nice to see the media blackout doesn’t extend to Channel 4 racing as he’s happy to take gee-gees in the enclosure afterwards.
By then, I was considering a media blackout of my own. I was forced to watch a steam of the final two races on a bookies’ website because the two TV stations again went for an early bath. But I should probably have joined them in throwing in the towel.
If anyone sees Oh Crick or King of the Night you can tell them to stop running now. Oscar Delta put in a performance to give me a little bit of a run, however, though fourth was mere crumbs at this stage.
The bookies took this one. But they always do in the end.