Something Unpredictable...

I'm nervous. It's the Grand National today, and I have picked the winner for the last five years. I say this with no pride or boastfulness, but with caution.

I see this ritual as a sure way of using up all of my betting luck for the year to come.

Were I not to win this afternoon, I'll be tempted to strew my cash across a variety of sporting events throughout the year. And lose it all.

The first bet I ever took, shiny new Maestro card in hand - a plastic facade fronting a dearth of funds, was £10 on Leicester drawing with Coventry when they were playing grown-ups with those 'overpaid pansies' in the Premier League. Giants such as Matt Elliot and Gerry Taggart still stalked the earth, and I knew the score would be 0-0.

It was such an bloody certainty, I didn't even check the score before collecting my winnings. It could have been the worst thing that ever happened to me.

"This is amazing", I remember thinking, "So they actually just give you money for working out the blindingly obvious?".

The next week, again compelled by an unshakable conviction that Leicester would lose, this time 1-0 at Arsenal, I wagered another well-earned (read borrowed) tenner.

All was well until substitute Craig Hignett spawnily shinned in an Andrew Impey cross to level the scores. It finished 1-1, and I realized that this betting lark would take a lifetime - and a small fortune - to master.

I owe much to Craig Hignett. (Nothing football related, I might add. Hignett's sole contribution to Leicester's relegation was to deny me my winnings).

Had he not fluked that equalizer, however, I could easily now be in a hole of debt. I am not a lucky person, but I am a stubborn one, often convinced I'm right - even when I'm clearly not. I use these two truths to limit my betting throughout the year.

I now only bet on Horse Racing and Boxing. Without wishing to inflate that bloke-who-played-Finchey-in-the-Office's ego any further, sport does "matter more when there's money on it". I like gambling a little on things, the result of which doesn't concern me.

I also like getting the better of those flavour-of-the-week 'experts'. Those people who, upon receiving a call in the bookies, loudly regurgitate some obscure tip they've just read in the Racing Post over someone's shoulder whilst waiting for the bus, before putting £2 on the favourite - you know, just in case.

I want to win more than those people because, like them, I know very little about Horse Racing. Unlike them, I don't consider sitting around a lino-topped table strewn with playing chips and Dorito's dip, gumming on cheap cigars and taking money off mates a good way to spend a Saturday night. (I mean Poker players, not Cabinet Ministers).

Betting is dangerous. It's risky when you're bad at it and haven't the finances to cover your losses. It's even more risky if you start out good and assume your luck will last forever.

I am content to confine my little bit of luck to one or two days a year, confident that all my annual bad luck will pass when I don't stand to lose money.