Please run him, Aidan. Don't remind me why I gave up ante-post betting

I don't recall precisely when it was that I gave up ante-post punting. Maybe it was the aptly named Warning: champion two-year-old of 1987 and champion miler of 1988, but had a sick note for the Guineas.

Since then, I have almost never bet ante-post, and I almost certainly never bet ante-post on anything trained by Aidan O'Brien, because it always ends in tears.

About once a year, though, I can't help myself, and this year it was Wembley. He should have won the National Stakes and he should have won the Dewhurst, and he's the pick of Aidan's Guineas squad by some margin, so I couldn't resist a little bit of 11-1. And thus began the daily trauma.