RICHARD BIRCH

Weblog: A light hearted look at my punting life

Dodgy laptop kicks-off a stressfully stupid week

MONDAY MARCH 1

I fancied three horses - Keepholdin, Overlaw and Portrait Royale. At 6am I was bubbling with enthusiasm and confidence. Then things started to go horribly wrong. It was the eve of the Racing Post Juvenile - work-wise, one of my most important days of the year. I tried to get into the greyhound database and couldn't. Four hours and numerous swear words later, I rang one of the computer boys at work. He was baffled, too. The clock ticked past 1.30pm and I'd had no breakfast, no lunch, and was seriously stressed - not the ideal win-treble for a successful afternoon's punting. Keepholdin, my banker, was first up. The intention had been to place £200 each-way, but my heart wasn't in it now. I placed £50 each-way at 11-2 with Victor Chandler and £50 each-way at 9-2 with Stan James. Keepholdin won on the bridle. I was £625 up, but a non-functioning computer still plagued my thoughts. I switched off the television, and worked like a demon for the next four hours. At 6pm the machine was finally fixed - after I'd completed the day's tasks. I switched on Channel 4 teletext to see the results and, to my absolute horror, discovered that Overlaw had won at 5-1 and Portrait Royale had scored at 2-1. I'd won £625 on the day, and was absolutely distraught. I realised that not only had I not eaten, I'd not even brushed my teeth.

Later that evening, my wife said: "Let's watch Cocktail, it's one of my favourite films." I showed no interest whatsoever until I saw the lead actress. "Wow, who's that stunner?" I asked Jacky. "Elisabeth Shue. Do you know somebody once said I looked like Elisabeth Shue." Rest assured, my reply of "must have been a combination of drink and drugs" didn't go down particularly well.
Profit on day: £625

TUESDAY MARCH 2

I thought Nightboat To Cairo was a 'shue-in' to finish placed at Catterick, and struck a wager of £150 each-way at 7-2 with Stan James. Utter madness that project turned out to be. Total embarrassment. I jumped into the car and drove up to Wimbledon for the Juvenile singing "last boat across the River Nile" at the top of my voice. Don't know why I was in such a good mood considering I'd just done a 'carpet'.
Loss on day: £300

WEDNESDAY MARCH 3

Topless really got my punting juices flowing. And I wasn't thinking of Elisabeth Shue this time! I savaged Victor Chandler's early 11-2 with £175 each-way, and promptly rang my best friend to tell him, "I'll be absolutely staggered if this finishes out of the first three. Get on." Phil did get on. And for nine-tenths of the journey he'd have been saying "spot on Birchy, spot on." Topless jumped beautifully, touched evens-in-running a the fourth-last, and seemed sure to win. I took my shirt off in anticipation of celebrating in a style her name suggests would be appropriate. Sailing over the second-last she was 1-66 to finish in the first three. Then, suddenly, she was running on empty. The Gangerman, that paceless plodder, was plodding on a few lengths back in fourth. Topless went out of the picture at the final fence, and I sensed what was coming. I put my shirt back on. Sure enough, The Gangerman went past, and Topless finished fourth. A terrible result for me.

Phil rang back with some even gloomier news. He'd got me a ticket for Millwall versus Charlton next Saturday. Rest assured, we will lie down and die in that match. No bottle in our squad. Banker home win. Dreading it.
Loss on day: £350

THURSDAY MARCH 4 and FRIDAY MARCH 5

Punted like a lunatic - totally out of control - but due to decent wins from Carrickmines (7-2), Pickamus (4-1), King's Legacy (15-8), Salut Flo (11-2), Gentle George (5-2) and Sapphire Prince (9-1 with a Rule 4) I undeservedly managed to show aprofit of £790 on the two days.
Profit on two days: £790

SATURDAY MARCH 6

I'd broken out of Wormwood Scrubs twice in the last two days, but a hat-trick proved beyond me. Boy, did I suffer. And it was totally and utterly my own stupid fault. I'd gone into Canary Wharf with no intention of having any bets today, but an office tip for hurdles debutante Adelar tipped me over the edge and into a headlong plunge of self-destruction. I placed £150 at 2-1 with Victor Chandler, but even Aidan Coleman, so often the 'love of my life' in recent months, couldn't help me out this time. Bets on Trabolgan and Duke Of Malfi, my Get It Ready! recommendations, followed. No joy. Reckless'chasing' wagers on Pasco and Nearby yielded further near-misses, frustration and misery.

I left the office early at 5pm to report on Wimbledon's final meeting before the transfer of its operation to the far-side Mick The Miller stand. I waited 20 minutes for a Northern Line southbound train at London Bridge only to be told "a person had been taken ill on a train at Camden Town, and the southbound service had been suspended". Mentally I acknowledged that it wasn't going to be my day, but that didn't stop me trying to recoup losses via Streetsavenoname and Small Crane. By the time of the 9.15 race I was in mental turmoil, fast running out of readies, and needed a crane to pull me off the floor. There was one final opportunity for a semi-prison break - American Patrol from trap one. The third urinal nearest the door in the main stand toilets has often been lucky for me. I hoped to spend a penny, then come out and gather £600 (via a £600-£200 with John White, John Henwood or George Reed). American Patrol opened 9-4. The price stunk, and 7-4 was worse still. In a huff, I stormed down the terrace and stuck £60 at 9-2 on Glynnscross Milo, hoping there would be trouble up front. I've never backed a dog that's run as badly as Glynnscross Milo did. Tailed off in a clean-run race. Of course, American Patrol skated up.

I'd gone completely off the rails, lost all my self-discipline and deserved everything I got. PS Still married - one life left!
Loss on day: £1,060
Loss on week: £295