AGAINST THE ODDS RODDY L'ESTRANGEIN TERMS of his drinking, gambling and fastidious attention to diet, Vinny Fitzpatrick had been cranking up the revs ahead of Cheltenham. Long before Roy Keane's mantra about preparing to fail if you fail to prepare, Vinny knew the benefits of doing the groundwork before jump racing's equivalent of the World Cup finals.
Only this wasn't a month-long tournament with five-star treatment and six days between matches, this was a four-day National Hunt 24-race slugfest in the chill of Prestbury Park, with 35 minutes recovery time between races. When you got knocked down, you got up again; without complaining - there was always time for mature recollection over a pint after racing.
Bearing in mind the demands Cheltenham put on the constitution, Vinny had been adhering to a strict training regime for the past week or so. In his case it meant adding a whiskey chaser or two to his pint in Foley's.
Now Vinny wasn't a whiskey drinker as a rule. In fact, he'd once poured a fine single malt Glenmorangie down the sink during a 40th birthday many years ago - a mortal sin, and one of which the lads gleefully reminded him, especially as he was sipping the fire water once more. Vinny accepted the barbs with a resigned shrug.
By his calculation, he would consume roughly 20 pints of stout per day at Cheltenham - enough to challenge even his formidable capacity - and he felt he needed a short as back-up to ensure he could last the course and distance nightly; hence the whiskey. Yet, the festival was as much about gambling as about drink. And Vinny had felt that old familiar tingle in his fingers and toes when he entered the Dollymount and District Credit Union last Saturday morning to draw down his betting 'stash'.
As a bachelor with no mortgage, no car, and no great desire to stump up 25 grand for golf club membership, Vinny had little need for a credit union. But he siphoned off €100 a month from his busman's wages to ensure he was adequately armed for Cheltenham battle. Vinny knew his €1,200 kitty was chicken feed compared to the resources of the high rollers of Cheltenham who wouldn't blink at the notion of putting 10 times that amount on a horse.
But, conversely, there were thousands of others in the betting shops across these islands who would be content to invest a tenner in an each-way Yankee and would enjoy the racing just as much. Vinny's strategy was to place roughly half his bets ahead of the festival, and invest the remainder over the four days in Boru Betting. This year would be slightly different, though, as he would be following the action from the jam-packed Cheltenham enclosures, rather than the comfort of Foley's.
Having studiously followed the horses through the winter months, Vinny felt in a position to make a cold, impassioned, judgement on his bets for Cheltenham as he entered Boru Betting at lunchtime on Saturday. Armed with a steely gaze and purposeful step, he had his 'banker' bets in mind and would place them in the manner of a professional gambler.
They were: a ton (€100) on Ruby Walsh to be top jockey (11/8); a ton on Denman to win the Gold Cup (13/8) and a ton on lnglis Drever to win the World Hurdle (evens). He would speculate the €300 balance with less caution after careful perusal of the Racing Post. Vinny took a handful of slips, and two pencils, before retreating to a quiet corner, well away from the telly, to compose himself. However, his concentration was shattered by the heady whiff of a perfume he knew well. He was about to turn when he felt an arm on his rounded shoulders.
It was Angie. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the prodigal son himself," she smiled. "We were beginning to wonder if our favourite customer had gone to ground." Vinny's fragile composure melted. He was no longer The Sundance Kid of Clontarf who had the bookies in his sights, rather a paunchy 50-year-old who was hopelessly smitten with Angie, the dashing, divorced, assistant manager of Boru Betting.
Vinny found himself caught between two bar stools. He was about to embark on the most important business of the year with Boru Betting and needed to behave like a Trappist monk, yet he couldn't spurn Angie's fragrant company. To stick or twist? He twisted. "Hey, Ange, what's the story?" said Vtnny, turning away from his homework and blushing ever so slightly.
Now, the courtship of Vinny and Angie - for that was what it had become - was not unlike the tale of the Grand National. At Christmas, Vinny had fallen at Bechers Brook in a heap but he'd remounted in time for Valentine's and was still in the race, if well off the pace. Eager to impress, Vinny told Angie about his plans for Cheltenham, how the lads were looking forward to a week's craic in the Cotswolds, and how they were going to slay the bookies. Almost immediately, Vinny's ace was trumped. "Sure, I might run into you over there, Vinny. Haven't you heard what's happening here?" Briefly, Angie brought Vinny up to speed.
Boru Betting was being taken over by British bookmaking giants Winstons For Winners as part of a major Irish investment. All jobs were safe - there was talk of Angie becoming office manager - and as part of the gig, the Winstons for Winners heavyweights were inviting Boru Betting heads over to Cheltenham. "The boss, Andy, is going over on Tuesday and Wednesday, and 1'll be there on Thursday and Friday. We might hook up for a drink after racing. After a day with the toffs behaving myself, I'll need to unwind. What do you say?" said Angie smiling.
Not for the first time, Angie had Vinny on the back foot. Did he make an arrangement to meet her? Or did he stay with the lads? Suddenly, Vinny found himself playing pontoon mind games again.
Bets of the Week
5pts Ruby Walsh (left) to be top jockey at Cheltenham
(11/8 Boylesports).
Ipt ew De Valira in the Champion Hurdle
(40/1 Corals).
Vinny's Bismarck
1pt Lay Captain Cee Bee to win Supreme Novices' Hurdle ( 7/1 general, liability 7pts).
