Sunday 4 November 2012

Rainy Days & Sundays...


I doubt many people will read this blog post. It doesn't matter because this is my tribute to my Uncle Keith who sadly passed away on Sunday. 

You may have seen his name appear as a regular contestant taking part in the Saturday Tipping Competition. Like my late father, Colin, his eldest brother loved his racing. Keith would tell me of his betting antics. Like every gambler he had his good days and bad but forever maintained a philosophical outlook which comes with age. Uncle Keith was a good, kind, loving man who cared for his family and friends; someone whose company you would have enjoyed.

Believe it or not, I used to chat about the people I bumped into while writing this blog. There's Clint the professional gambler, Mark of Patient Speculation, Bobby Talk, Gary Bubble... In fact, all the tipster's names would come up in conversation as my uncle asked where he was on the leader board. We used to smile as the end of the month neared I would say: ''You need at least a 10/1 winner to take the prize.''

At the start of each month it was a fresh chance to take the spoils.

How those moments are so easily taken for granted...

On Saturday, I popped round my uncle's, to see him and auntie Pam, chatting about all those little things. Putting the world to rights. Talking about the weather, if they were okay. I sat in the conservatory drinking tea, asking if they had many gold finches, greenfinches coming to the seed feeder which they enjoyed.

We talked about the racing...

Keith was a fan of David Pipe but eternally a backer of Geoff Oldroyd's horses, so often owned by Reg Bond. The times he would curse when one of them won at fantastic odds in the week because he would only bet on a Saturday...

My auntie Pam decided a week or two back that she would tip a horse. Because she didn't know anything about form she closed her eyes and where the pen made its mark that was her selection. It made me smile when Keith said: ''Where is Santa Anita? He said he hadn't heard of that course before. 

I said: ''It's in the US - the venue for the Breeders' Cup.'' Pam said she would choose another horse but Keith said ''Don't be silly''. 

I replied: ''I don't care if you pick a horse and it's running on the moon. It's okay.''

So they made their selections. 

Keith asked if I would place a bet for him - a Lucky 15. He smiled as I was leaving and said: ''You can bring the suitcase of money tomorrow.''

I said: ''I will. I'll be watching them.''

He said: ''Goodbye, Jason...''

I said: ''Bye, I will see you later.''

God bless a good man.