Eden Saw Play!

Another day. You will be pleased to learn I escaped the church without being baptised so I am feeling warm with hellish thoughts. You can tell those people who have never been Christened because even on the coldest winter days they don't ware gloves. And the snow under their feet melts a little quicker than the norm. I'm literally cooking at this very moment and need to turn the heating down. At the Christening we sang: All Things Bright And Beautiful. That was the highlight for me.


I quite enjoyed singing that. I like the words Eden Saw Play! If I could name a two-year-old filly that would be her name. It's strange that even though I am not religious there is something about those three words which captures my mind. Perhaps someone is trying to tell me something. I have nothing against people who believe. But for me one good belief is no different to the next. It is the initial concept of belief which I respect and admire that drive someone not its divisery nature which makes this world such a lost cause. I really don't know why I bother talking at all! 


No two-year-old racing. I will have to find a couple of interesting articles because an empty blog is good for nothing. I guess I am prolific! Perhaps one of our guest writers has something up their sleeve. A post on how to cheat at cards! Marked cards, card counting, it's all written somewhere. I once read about a person who had specially made contact lenses which could see marked cards. X-Men at the table. In fact, they had a couple of dolly birds with big prospects to mark the cards as they took the attention away from the fact they were marking the cards before the x-ray vision blokes come in to steal all the money. They made millions. If you see some bloke with a squint and his underpants over his tights with a bulge in his pocket, you know he's back. Those chips never sit that easy. I can't say I have ever been interested in cards. Poker has a huge following. I find it rather boring. I haven't the time to work out what it's all about. So, I guess, it could be quite entertaining if I had the time to give it a chance. I guess it just comes down to the point that you can only be good at so many things. In truth, you only need to be good at one thing, and not even the best to succeed. Just a little bit better than most. To be an expert it pays to specialise. It's logic. Aristotle could tell you that, if he wasn't dead. That is why I study two-year-old horse racing. How people say they follow the form for differing age groups I don't understand. I'm talking horses, not some teenage or women's car insurance. Just wanted to point that out. Not that I'm knocking Jack of all trades. If it works for him then good luck. It truly takes a brainless person to limit someone else. In fact I hate that mentality. I have worked with lots of people who some may consider not the brightest sparks on earth, but on many subjects they were much more intelligent. The trouble is, from what I have seen, sadly most people are lacking in humility, sense, humour, insight and they sink into an endless self-absorbed oblivion. Egocentric...in psychobable. I guess it is too easy to look within. It is part of the human condition. Nothing wrong with a determined tunnel vision to keen you on track. But like the meerkat who stands upright, it pays to look out for that hawk or little old lady with a smile on her face who throws a peanut in your direction. I hate to say it, but I sometimes wish I lived on a desert island. It would probably take me a while to realise there was no one else around.


At peak season, I often feel as though I am struggling to keep up with the juvenile racing let alone juggling a few balls or spinning a couple of plates on pointed sticks. It wouldn't bother me at all if there were less racing because I am pretty sure it would increase my win rate. Specialism is the key to success, in my humble opinion. Stick to what you know. Polish that stone until it shines so brightly that one day you realise you had a diamond all along. It is good to look for new opportunities but I have found that those too can be wolves in sheep's clothing. Striving to learn something new and taking your eye off the ball. I have learned over the years that I am not a born gambler. In fact, the only reason I bet is because I am confident that it is in my interest to do so. Many a time I have been to the races and not bet. The reason being that I have no understanding of the older horses and I can see the futility of betting without insight. It's not my idea of fun. Even betting a couple of quid 'for fun' frustrates me. I must be turning into a grumpy old man. I can feel it coming on like a tide. I would rather watch the horses, people and enjoy the day because it is so easy to miss all of those little things. Instead of looking at the crowd, watch a trainer, owner, stable lad, punter and you see through their eyes. What is their story?




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