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A horseplayer's tale
By Yo Tambien This story was related to me by a former boss of mine. Seems this gentleman liked to try his hand at the ponies while in Las Vegas. During one trip there, this gent, his wife, a good friend and his wife, all went into the casino to try their luck at the different games. The two men decided to play the horses, while the wives decided to play at the blackjack tables. The two men got their drinks, and selected a table where they could sit down and go over the races for the day. While they were pondering the various selections, handicapping charts, figures, etc., a fly started to buzz around the vicinity of their table. The gent tried to wave the fly away with his hand, but the fly continued to circle the table before settling on the rim of the gent's glass. He was quite annoyed by the intrusion, and stared to roll up one of the papers to smack the pest. His friend stopped him and said, "Hey don't do that! I think that fly might be my Uncle Louie!" The friend was somewhat of a superstitious type and had noticed how the fly kept buzzing over the handicapping material. Seems that his dear departed Uncle Louie was quite the horseplayer. In addition, Uncle Louie always had a particular fondness for the Kentucky bourbon the gent was drinking. Well, humoring his friend, the gent agreed to let the fly live. At once, the fly flew off the glass, circled the racing program the men were studying, and landed right on the name of a 20-1 shot in the first race. The friend took this as an omen and told the gent they should play this horse. The gent retorted that nag had no business being in this race. He hadn't hit the board in his last 25 starts! But the friend persisted, so the gent agreed that they would put $2 to win on the horse's nose. They placed their bets, $2 on Uncle Louie's pick, and about $50 on assorted win, exacta and trifecta combinations that the gent felt were SURE to come in based on the handicapping system he was using. They returned to the table to watch the race. For most of the race, the 20-1 shot ran dead last. The gent was enjoying the ribbing he was inflicting on his friend for such a "lame" bet. All of a sudden, as the horses rounded the final turn for home, the longshot produced a burst of speed that propelled him past the other horses and he won going away by a length! Of the other carefully picked entries, either they didn't show up on the board, or one was missing from the exotic bets. Now it was the friend's turn to laugh and pound the gent for his skepticism. At this point, the fly returned to the table, buzzed over to the gent's bourbon and went to the race program. This time he landed on an entry for the second race. The men excitedly looked at the horse. They were somewhat crestfallen to see the fly had landed on the 3-5 favorite. Not much value there. But before the men could get up from the table, the fly buzzed over to another horse in the same race. This was a 30-1 shot! Somewhat confused, the men were pondering what this meant. Again, the fly buzzed over to the glass, then landed first on the favorite and again on the longshot. Of course! An exacta! Thanking Uncle Louie, the men excitedly hurried over to the window. They took all the money they won on the first race and parlayed that into the exacta bet for the second race. Giddy with excitement, they sprinted back to their table (an interesting sight since both men were in their late 50s and not exactly college track material!) and eagerly anticipated the next race. Sure enough, the exacta came in and paid handsomely! This continued throughout the day. Waiting for Uncle Louie's wise counsel, the men continued to watch the fly imbibe some bourbon and land on various entries or combinations of entries. Each time, they continued to reinvest their winnings into the next bet. They were sitting on quite a bankroll as they watched the (winning) finish for the next-to-last race of the day. At this point, the wives returned from a rather disappointing afternoon at the blackjack tables. They were hoping to convince their husbands to leave a little early so they could, perhaps, get some good seats at the Wayne Newton show. The (Uncle Louie) fly began his usual routine, buzzing from the glass over to the racing program. As the fly began his descent, one of the wives quickly picked up the paper and smashed the offending insect. The men howled their grief like wounded buffalo! As the post time was drawing near, the men hurriedly ran over to the window. They rolled over their entire day's winnings on the 50-1 shot. Nervous and excited, they hurried back to the table to watch the race. Their bet ran exactly they way you would expect from a 50-1 shot. Moral of the story? Don't mess with Uncle Louie OR ... Don't swat flies while playing the ponies. Got any other morals you could draw from this? |