Living down to my worst Cheltenham betting fears

Midday: We’re at the halfway stage, Enda McEvoy is €126.88 up and beginning to twitch a little.

Unlike last year, as regular readers will recall, I’m going to finish ahead for the meeting. But given that I’m so comfortably in the black as it is, will it not represent a mild failure if I’m anything less than €200 up by teatime tomorrow? I ponder this knotty existential issue.

12.01: Enough pondering. I study the card. It does not inspire. Suddenly I remember why. It is the Thursday of the Festival. The extra day, the afterthought, the spare to the heir, the Prince Harry minus the amusing idiocy.