This has to do with #3 Adam Suances From Sunday's 7th at Hollywood. I thought going into the day that entrant represented my best chance to win. I decided that if I'd blanked to that point I'd dedicate two betting units to win.
There's a man who's about 55 to 60 years old that I've seen at Golden Gate every racing day for as long as I've been going, weekdays and weekends alike. He's toothless. He wears a baseball cap, a gray coat, sweatshirt and gray jeans. While he appears to bathe daily, he doesn't launder his clothes but likely once a month so he has that bum-like look. He's always semi-yelling at everyone and nobody really converses with him. He talks incessantly, bandying about the N-word in mixed company as if there's only blacks present. He bets every race. He plays dime supers. He claims to have all the right #'s in the wrong order all the time. I don't know where he gets money. I saw him win $698 once on a $3.20 bet. I also watch him lose ad infinitum aside from that. He always yells the name Bob Baffert. Anyhow, he's the kind of player that disgusts me. I'd avoid him, but exposure is worth it because his monitor is near the finish line of the grandstand and the best seats in the house.
I'd written on my list "Hollywood Race 6, $20 Double: 2 with 3." I was at the monitor with about 4mtp waiting for the probable to show and that guy was yelling on and on about how the 2 was gonna win the 6th race. Now I'm generally not a superstitious guy, but I couldn't help it. I thought, 'If he likes him, I'm on the wrong horse. I should look at this heat as if the 2 doesn't exist.' Long story short: The 2-3 double came in and paid 79.20. I got away from it and later bet the 3 to win the 7th. Stoked I won. Bummed I let superstition get the best of me.
Awesome story. The only thing missing from it is the armpit smell. Reminds me of the old days when I used to have to go to the Remington Simulcast facility to play the ponies. Dan Markoff is going to have to post his story about a similar guy that everyone used to call Tommy "All".
This message has been edited by JBaker826 on May 1, 2012 4:13 PM
Here's what I do...when I see those "bums" or panhandlers approach my vehicle I make sure to slide my window down just before they start to tap on it...before he can speak I say "Hey buddy, have a dollar I can borrow"? Nearly always catches them off guard... but once the guy pulled out a $5 and handed to to me with a chuckle...I told him to keep it of course but ya never know. The concrete jungle holds many a surprise!
Here's a (now it's) funny, (very) embarassing, and TRUE story that happened to me years back. I just hope my words can do it justice!
Here goes. I was 23 years old (31 years ago) and engaged to my wife at the time. A buddy (Mike) and I decide to drive over to the NYC-OTB in Staten Island to place a few early bets. My friend had almost NO handicapping experience, so he was looking to me for some help as to how to place bets. To make a long story short, he hits the early DD for $2 twice, with the double paying over $800 for a $2 bet. Instead of taking my advice and that of the cashier's and getting a check for $1,600, he decides he wants the cash. He's getting a bit nervous now and asks for me to drive him home. No problem. Here's the interesting part...
Mike is a resident of Bayonne. I lived in Jersey City at the time. As I drove across the Bayonne Bridge and into Bayonne, a car pulls up alongside us with two dudes dressed in denim jackets and hats. The one not driving pulls out a badge and tells us to pull over. Unbeknowest to me, I hear afterwards that these guys are narcs and were pulling over cars driven by young guys coming off the bridge because guys were going to Staten Island to buy drugs.
Mike gets a bit nervous and starts screaming in my ear that these guys were phony cops and probably followed us from OTB after seeing Mike collect his cash. I decide to step on the gas and the race is on! I shit you not! Our two cars are doing 70-80 MPH and we're going through red lights. I'm shocked no one was killed! Not knowing if these guys were real cops or thieves, I ask Mike where the Bayonne police station is located and drive towards it. FYI, the precinct is about 30 blocks from the bridge! Anyone, as we finally get close to the police station, police cars come out of everywhere and surround us, with cops jumping out with guns in their hands!
Next thing I know, we're buck naked in the precinct and I'm screaming at the top of my lungs that we thought they were crooks - to check our pockets for losing OTB tickets and a wad of cash on my friend. After an hour or so, they believe our story but I get hit with all these speeding and reckless driving tickets.
We make the local newspapers the next day, with the caption "Two young men arrested aftr high speed chase." Of course, since my fiance lived in Bayonne, she had all her relatives calling her up asking if "that guy in the newspaper" is her fiance? Boy, did we had a lot of explaining to do!
Months later, I end up hiring a lawyer, which cost me about $1,500 (and Mike contributed nothing to the kitty). End of story.
Oh, and I am no longer friends with Mike...
This message has been edited by timmye1 on May 3, 2012 8:16 AM
Pete, the key was that "you liked him first." Even a loveable loser like that is gonna be on the right horse every now and again. Trust your first instinct and your handicapping skills, which are considerable!