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Yeovil inspire a fat-fingered Grand National triumph

henry tapper

A freak unintended bet made at half-time from the football terrace , paid for a night out on to celebrate Yeovil’s triumph.

I am currently trying to understand why I have won quite a lot (for me) on yesterday’s grand national. I made some bets on the terrace and seem to have accidentally got the first second and third in the correct order. I have no idea why I made this bet though delighted that some fat fingering put Delta Work in the frame.

Like most decent people, I had an eye to Kitty’s Light and was cheering the horse on as the second half got under way at the Huish. The race wasn’t like a grand national at all, more like an extended gold cup with the horses managing the course with disconcerting ease. I say “disconcerting” because I’m not sure we want the Grand National to be like any other horse race.

Having been out celebrating Yeovil’s magnificent promotion last night, I have only watched the race properly this morning.  It was hardly epic. Paul Townend seems to have ridden the perfectly boring race , sticking to the rail, waiting till the last two furlongs to make his move and then riding away like the favorite I am Maximum was.

In truth, this is now looking like a large field handicap over an extended trip in which fit , well-trained horses compete not on courage but on tactics. Which is rather less dramatic than the usual shambles.

Having spent decades losing Grand Nationals after assiduous work on form, my fat-fingered triumph this year seems in keeping with the pin-sticking tactics of most punters.

As with First Actuarial’s Monkey League, it seems that random selections executed without due care and attention can be as successful as those made with studious research. This life lesson is not lost on my partner whose sole criteria for betting on a horse is that the horse is wearing a sheepskin noseband.

The money’s all been spent now, the Mitre in Shaftesbury being the happy recipient of my financial advantage. I will remember the final whistle and what happened after , longer than the grand national I won by accident. I hope that next year’s National will see us celebrating Yeovil’s ascent to the Football League.

After the final whistle

Cream rises to the top – well done Willie Mullins, Paul Townend and the three horses that paid for a great night out!

Well done Yeovil Town – the cause for that great night out and well done the ground staff who opened the gates from the Thatcher’s stand in defiance of orders to keep fans off the pitch. This was not a pitch invasion.

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