From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Mon Jan 1 08:53:14 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Mon, 1 Jan 2018 08:53:14 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" In-Reply-To: References: <001d01d3810e$dda48bb0$98eda310$@com.au> Message-ID: <003f01d38281$c2c0be80$48423b80$@com.au> Looks like the new kid on the Dynamic Odds block is issuing a challenge to them - I opened an account for $1,000 with SportsBetting a few days ago, have had 4 $100 or less bets, and today asked for $100 @ 3.50 place Inv 7/11. Accepted $36.72. Pathetic enough, but immediately turned down to 2.70 (Win price untouched, so it's not like they had a flood of bets, most likely just my bet to lose $91.80). I think you should write "bookmaker", to distinguish these feeble critters from on-course bookmakers, the weakest of whom has x times the guts and y times the ability that they do. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Race Stats Sent: Sunday, 31 December 2017 12:02 AM To: AusRace Racing Discussion List Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" CentreBet and ClassicBet are the worst Len. You'd think they'd want to even their books a little because most of the action takes place on the favourite or firmers in the market. But that's never the case, their little servers and databases refer your bet to a bookmaker who rejects simply on liability, probably because you're a winning punter, but not necessarily so. Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Saturday, 30 December 2017 12:38 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Yes, sure you will CentreBet. I asked for $100 Randwick 1/5 @ 126.00, knocked back to $16, which is their right. CentreBet treated me with well-deserved distain and lengthened it to 151.00, obviously wanting to hold more money than my $16, so I asked for $100 at 151.00. Rejected in full, which is again their right, but why drift it if they won't take even 50c at that price? "Pathetic" does not do them justice. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From RaceStats at hotmail.com Mon Jan 1 17:05:05 2018 From: RaceStats at hotmail.com (Race Stats) Date: Mon, 1 Jan 2018 06:05:05 +0000 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" In-Reply-To: <003f01d38281$c2c0be80$48423b80$@com.au> References: <001d01d3810e$dda48bb0$98eda310$@com.au> <003f01d38281$c2c0be80$48423b80$@com.au> Message-ID: They're all pretty pathetic Len with a few exceptions. You're probably getting limited because you're on the list of winning punters they share. I know you hate laying, but to continue without just about everybody closing you down completely (or effectively) eventually, you have to lay off any winnings on the exchange at BFSP. You have to look on paper like a mug not a winner. Then you'll get offers galore and they'll take you on for mostly the full amount. It's really the only way around it, especially with Luxbet closed down and no access to UK based bookies. What makes me laugh is Racing.com where, they quote thousands of dollars being invested by in their own words "some very savvy punters". You think those very savvy punters were able to get on for those amounts, it's all smoke and mirrors! Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Monday, 1 January 2018 8:53 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Looks like the new kid on the Dynamic Odds block is issuing a challenge to them - I opened an account for $1,000 with SportsBetting a few days ago, have had 4 $100 or less bets, and today asked for $100 @ 3.50 place Inv 7/11. Accepted $36.72. Pathetic enough, but immediately turned down to 2.70 (Win price untouched, so it's not like they had a flood of bets, most likely just my bet to lose $91.80). I think you should write "bookmaker", to distinguish these feeble critters from on-course bookmakers, the weakest of whom has x times the guts and y times the ability that they do. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Race Stats Sent: Sunday, 31 December 2017 12:02 AM To: AusRace Racing Discussion List Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" CentreBet and ClassicBet are the worst Len. You'd think they'd want to even their books a little because most of the action takes place on the favourite or firmers in the market. But that's never the case, their little servers and databases refer your bet to a bookmaker who rejects simply on liability, probably because you're a winning punter, but not necessarily so. Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Saturday, 30 December 2017 12:38 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Yes, sure you will CentreBet. I asked for $100 Randwick 1/5 @ 126.00, knocked back to $16, which is their right. CentreBet treated me with well-deserved distain and lengthened it to 151.00, obviously wanting to hold more money than my $16, so I asked for $100 at 151.00. Rejected in full, which is again their right, but why drift it if they won't take even 50c at that price? "Pathetic" does not do them justice. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Fri Jan 5 13:41:28 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Fri, 5 Jan 2018 13:41:28 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Message-ID: <00cf01d385ce$aff9d7a0$0fed86e0$@com.au> Today BetZero and Sportsbet contravened the Qld MBL which came into effect on 1Jan, by refusing bets on Sunshine Coast. Sportsbet claimed "a glitch"; sure, the "glitch" is, just as they did with Tasmania, they don't adjust your settings unless you complain - I did, they adjusted. I'm yet to get a reply from BetZero, so tomorrow will fill out the Qld Racing complaint form. Here's my letter to BetZero: At 9:58am you refused the following bet: cid:image002.jpg at 01D3860D.433D3D20 Bet Max was $0.00, viz you refused to take the bet for any amount. The race was scheduled for 16:05 AEST, and the first race of the meeting for 15:27 AEST. MBL has been in place since 1/1/2018, and the relevant section is: Minimum Bet Limits apply: . to Queensland Thoroughbred races only; . to fixed odds bets (i.e. win, place and each way bets); . from 9am (AEST) on the day of the Thoroughbred race, for a race meeting commencing prior to 5:30pm; and . from 2pm (AEST) on the day of the Thoroughbred race, for a race meeting commencing after 5:30pm. It is disappointing, but not surprising, that you fail to meet your legal obligations, again. They're all pretty pathetic Len with a few exceptions. You're probably getting limited because you're on the list of winning punters they share. I know you hate laying, but to continue without just about everybody closing you down completely (or effectively) eventually, you have to lay off any winnings on the exchange at BFSP. You have to look on paper like a mug not a winner. Then you'll get offers galore and they'll take you on for mostly the full amount. It's really the only way around it, especially with Luxbet closed down and no access to UK based bookies. What makes me laugh is Racing.com where, they quote thousands of dollars being invested by in their own words "some very savvy punters". You think those very savvy punters were able to get on for those amounts, it's all smoke and mirrors! Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com ] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Monday, 1 January 2018 8:53 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Looks like the new kid on the Dynamic Odds block is issuing a challenge to them - I opened an account for $1,000 with SportsBetting a few days ago, have had 4 $100 or less bets, and today asked for $100 @ 3.50 place Inv 7/11. Accepted $36.72. Pathetic enough, but immediately turned down to 2.70 (Win price untouched, so it's not like they had a flood of bets, most likely just my bet to lose $91.80). I think you should write "bookmaker", to distinguish these feeble critters from on-course bookmakers, the weakest of whom has x times the guts and y times the ability that they do. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com ] On Behalf Of Race Stats Sent: Sunday, 31 December 2017 12:02 AM To: AusRace Racing Discussion List Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" CentreBet and ClassicBet are the worst Len. You'd think they'd want to even their books a little because most of the action takes place on the favourite or firmers in the market. But that's never the case, their little servers and databases refer your bet to a bookmaker who rejects simply on liability, probably because you're a winning punter, but not necessarily so. Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com ] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Saturday, 30 December 2017 12:38 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Yes, sure you will CentreBet. I asked for $100 Randwick 1/5 @ 126.00, knocked back to $16, which is their right. CentreBet treated me with well-deserved distain and lengthened it to 151.00, obviously wanting to hold more money than my $16, so I asked for $100 at 151.00. Rejected in full, which is again their right, but why drift it if they won't take even 50c at that price? "Pathetic" does not do them justice. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: _____ * Previous message (by thread): [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" * Messages sorted by: [ date ] [ thread ] [ subject ] [ author ] -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.jpg Type: image/jpeg Size: 19270 bytes Desc: not available URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Fri Jan 5 13:45:19 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Fri, 5 Jan 2018 13:45:19 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" In-Reply-To: <00cf01d385ce$aff9d7a0$0fed86e0$@com.au> References: <00cf01d385ce$aff9d7a0$0fed86e0$@com.au> Message-ID: <00db01d385cf$3a3d59a0$aeb80ce0$@com.au> Boy, did I f that up - I mixed up my Time Zones, and bet 2 minutes before the AEST deadline! Apologies to BetZero! From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Friday, 5 January 2018 1:41 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Today BetZero and Sportsbet contravened the Qld MBL which came into effect on 1Jan, by refusing bets on Sunshine Coast. Sportsbet claimed "a glitch"; sure, the "glitch" is, just as they did with Tasmania, they don't adjust your settings unless you complain - I did, they adjusted. I'm yet to get a reply from BetZero, so tomorrow will fill out the Qld Racing complaint form. Here's my letter to BetZero: At 9:58am you refused the following bet: cid:image002.jpg at 01D3860D.433D3D20 Bet Max was $0.00, viz you refused to take the bet for any amount. The race was scheduled for 16:05 AEST, and the first race of the meeting for 15:27 AEST. MBL has been in place since 1/1/2018, and the relevant section is: Minimum Bet Limits apply: . to Queensland Thoroughbred races only; . to fixed odds bets (i.e. win, place and each way bets); . from 9am (AEST) on the day of the Thoroughbred race, for a race meeting commencing prior to 5:30pm; and . from 2pm (AEST) on the day of the Thoroughbred race, for a race meeting commencing after 5:30pm. It is disappointing, but not surprising, that you fail to meet your legal obligations, again. They're all pretty pathetic Len with a few exceptions. You're probably getting limited because you're on the list of winning punters they share. I know you hate laying, but to continue without just about everybody closing you down completely (or effectively) eventually, you have to lay off any winnings on the exchange at BFSP. You have to look on paper like a mug not a winner. Then you'll get offers galore and they'll take you on for mostly the full amount. It's really the only way around it, especially with Luxbet closed down and no access to UK based bookies. What makes me laugh is Racing.com where, they quote thousands of dollars being invested by in their own words "some very savvy punters". You think those very savvy punters were able to get on for those amounts, it's all smoke and mirrors! Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com ] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Monday, 1 January 2018 8:53 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Looks like the new kid on the Dynamic Odds block is issuing a challenge to them - I opened an account for $1,000 with SportsBetting a few days ago, have had 4 $100 or less bets, and today asked for $100 @ 3.50 place Inv 7/11. Accepted $36.72. Pathetic enough, but immediately turned down to 2.70 (Win price untouched, so it's not like they had a flood of bets, most likely just my bet to lose $91.80). I think you should write "bookmaker", to distinguish these feeble critters from on-course bookmakers, the weakest of whom has x times the guts and y times the ability that they do. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com ] On Behalf Of Race Stats Sent: Sunday, 31 December 2017 12:02 AM To: AusRace Racing Discussion List Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" CentreBet and ClassicBet are the worst Len. You'd think they'd want to even their books a little because most of the action takes place on the favourite or firmers in the market. But that's never the case, their little servers and databases refer your bet to a bookmaker who rejects simply on liability, probably because you're a winning punter, but not necessarily so. Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com ] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Saturday, 30 December 2017 12:38 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Yes, sure you will CentreBet. I asked for $100 Randwick 1/5 @ 126.00, knocked back to $16, which is their right. CentreBet treated me with well-deserved distain and lengthened it to 151.00, obviously wanting to hold more money than my $16, so I asked for $100 at 151.00. Rejected in full, which is again their right, but why drift it if they won't take even 50c at that price? "Pathetic" does not do them justice. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: _____ * Previous message (by thread): [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" * Messages sorted by: [ date ] [ thread ] [ subject ] [ author ] -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.jpg Type: image/jpeg Size: 19270 bytes Desc: not available URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Mon Jan 8 16:42:33 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2018 13:42:33 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] Tulloch done this and The SP On The Run Message-ID: <000001d38843$7c42df20$74c89d60$@bigpond.com> 3.8 - THE SP ON THE RUN++++++++++++++++++++++++ There was a drycleaning shop on the Main Street next to our yard, the boiler whistle went off sometimes, overfull you see, and towards the end it was my job to put the pine crates, apple and orange boxes, into the firebox to keep steam up for Mr J pressing, and there wasn't a lot, ever, to be pressed. You got your clothes next morning, he drycleaned and ironed the afternoon before and they cooled down on hangers in his hallway overnight. They left, that family of drycleaners, the girls were older and flirty and the son was my age. Before they went though I learnt all a kid could learn about the ancient trade of cleaning with spirits, and steam. I got a ten shillings a week and I was 9. I had to buy a Chelsea bun for Friday arvos. The shop sat vacant for a couple of months then a bootmaker and leatherworker/saddler moved in with his kids and friend. He was a good bloke, kept budgies, dozens or perhaps hundreds and got a bit of interest going in keeping birds. I got a job with him, cleaning and repainting show cages, wooden boxes with cage and door on the front, painted black outside and white inside, special paint that did not kill the birds and made of gold apparently because if you dropped a drop it cost a shilling. So I would work on these show cages and paint 4-5 a day, there was about a hundred or so, I used to work Saturday too and the shop would be busy. He was a SP bookie but it took me about a month to realise and in the end Dad told me what a SP bookie was. One phone, a table and a notebook and a radio in a room with a fridge. That phone was busy, you heard it inside and him talking, like this, Sydney 4, horse 4, say the runners name please, that's right, a pound, yes I'll take that, thank you. There was an inordinate amount of front counter traffic too, people who had never worn a pressed item in their life were there, female and male, the females swapping roles, just a few bets for my hubbie, and he would say, have one or two for yourself, and she might have a deener on something, 'whats that horse Mulley is riding in Melbourne today, I'll have a little'n on that please'. It was Kingster and it won. It took some months for mother dear to cotton on, then she allowed me to stay as, well, I had those cages to finish, and don't you dare go near those betting persons neither, then Miss G over the road commented on the devils work taking place in the place and that did it for me, I got yanked, I left then, I had almost finished the cages. I did not get any budgies. There was an argument and sometimes a fight on Saturday afternoons, perhaps a drunk wanting his money. They weren't all drunk, the mining manager and two engineers were regulars, religious, and teetotallers, although the Brazilian used to cheat at golf they said, the old two ball routine. He had clear brown skin and a pony tail and wore shoes with chrome metal lace eyelets, lovely dancer was Mums opinion, charm oozer was Dads opinion, he may have caused a few divorces in his time, and he taught me a Portuguese swearword, oh well Dad laughed until his bottom teeth moved, Mum was not impressed with me but forgave Senor. He wasn't murdered, could have been but, he was wrapped in a carpet or rug and left in the bush near an ants nest, one version, however he managed to unroll himself and got up and got away, hobbling from the kicking he got, another version, and the only confirmed action is that he left town, and the consulate came and collected his gear, the third version. If your bet won you got paid on Monday and not before, and paid by cheque too which the pub cashed for you, if you bought some of theirs. We, me, Mum and Dad went bush one weekend, out to Glenroy where they grew oranges in the desert, and when we came back on Sunday arvo we saw that our back gate was open, then saw that the boot making bookmaker house was empty. Miss G over the road told Dad that he had put everything on a truck early Sunday and left, leaving his birdcages and his budgies, dozens of them. The bird club fed and cared for the birds and they were re housed over the next week without loss. I was hoping for a selection of pied blues but Mum said no way. Dad said that bookies often run off with their bets, Mr Galvers the Policeman came and looked over things and said 'Tulloch done this' and there were shoes and boots everywhere inside the place, I mean it was a working bootmaking shop too, and the Police were there a couple of days sorting out who owned what. The SP bookie was often in the pub down the road, in effect the building next to his which was next to ours, although Dad drank at the big pub further down the street or at the Bowling Club. This afternoon, it was a Tuesday, I was on the woodheap cutting chips, when I heard arguing from down the pub, on the footpath. I looked, of course, and the SP bookie was being shouted at by a man, about the same size. Anyway the man took a swing, I mean it was so slow, and the SP ducked that and pushed the bloke away, he staggered backwards off the footpath, went the length of the car parked there, it was reverse in parking, and fell onto the roadway. He immediately held his head, his head had not contacted the ground, I mean I saw the lot, the push, the dance in reverse and the fall onto his backside. If he had a bad back he would have hurt that but no way did he hit his head, perhaps it was whiplash, perhaps he was looking for sympathy. The bookie stayed put and the bloke on the road got up and staggered back to him. He shouted again, apparently he was not going to pay, whatever he had to pay for and I assume it was not shoe repairs but his SP bill. The SP bookie walked off and the head holding man was left there and ignored by the drinkers outside the Pub. I watched and he came up the street to the front door of the bootmaking shop and kicked it and it broke, the wood panel broke and his leg went inside and his cuff got caught and he was swearing and it was entertainment before there was tv. So he was stuck in the door, the three ply had hold of his leg and he was hop scotching on the other. Mr Galvers, the Police Sergeant came in a few minutes, perhaps in response to the first shindig, the dance in reverse bit, and spoke to the door kicking, broken head, sore tailbone non paying SP punter, and went and spoke to the drinkers, who nodded and pointed, both out onto the road and up to where the door kicker was now, still hop scotching. Mr Galvers kicked in the rest of the door panel and the door kicker was free. The SP bootmaker walked up, with fish and chips rolled up in newspaper and spoke to the Police. The result was the door kicker had to come back and repair the door. I don't know if he paid for whatever he said he wouldn't, Mr Galvers said hello to me and walked back into the pub. He walked the main street footpath most days and walked through the pubs and often the drunks would be removed, left staggering on the footpath, talking to their car keys and muttering but standing to attention when he walked up and past them. Sometimes he would be walking with a man, or woman sometimes too, an arrest maybe or a person who needed to be spoken to or more likely a person who needed to be displayed as a person who needed Police intervention in their affairs, either as the perpertrator or the recipient. Mr Galvers and Dad were a bowling pair and he came to our house in shorts and he and Dad drank beer in the breeze room, water trickling down the walls out of the grape vine, big brown bottles, and I never had more than a few greeting words with him. There were other Police in town, younger men than him, one of them a very good footballer. I don't know if the SP bookie got his money as I said, but the door kicking non-payer was in the shop off and on the next few Saturdays. I was hitting tennis balls against the brick wall of the garage both days and saw him. The door got fixed, and painted and life went on. I saw that SP in another town, some time later, there was a flash of recognition from him. Dad was bowling and I had been at the pool and came back to the hotel to change before going to Dad for tea. The SP man was in the bar, near the side door, and had his book, his raffle tickets, and his paraphernalia with him. There was an SP bookie at school at Bathurst, there had been two, both the sons of bookies, who ran the show more for notoriety than gain. You got sp for the win and money back if it placed. He also had dibs on smokes, he was the Fiesta distributor in the place, 6d each, 3 for a shilling. B&H were slightly more, 2 shillings for three. Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From phil at buckland.id.au Mon Jan 8 18:13:29 2018 From: phil at buckland.id.au (Phil Buckland) Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2018 17:13:29 +1000 Subject: [AusRace] Tulloch done this and The SP On The Run In-Reply-To: <000001d38843$7c42df20$74c89d60$@bigpond.com> References: <000001d38843$7c42df20$74c89d60$@bigpond.com> Message-ID: <004501d38850$301f5f80$905e1e80$@buckland.id.au> Great Story Tony. I love these when you put them up Cheers Phil From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Tony Moffat Sent: Monday, 8 January 2018 3:43 PM To: racing at ausrace.com Subject: [AusRace] Tulloch done this and The SP On The Run 3.8 - THE SP ON THE RUN++++++++++++++++++++++++ There was a drycleaning shop on the Main Street next to our yard, the boiler whistle went off sometimes, overfull you see, and towards the end it was my job to put the pine crates, apple and orange boxes, into the firebox to keep steam up for Mr J pressing, and there wasn't a lot, ever, to be pressed. You got your clothes next morning, he drycleaned and ironed the afternoon before and they cooled down on hangers in his hallway overnight. They left, that family of drycleaners, the girls were older and flirty and the son was my age. Before they went though I learnt all a kid could learn about the ancient trade of cleaning with spirits, and steam. I got a ten shillings a week and I was 9. I had to buy a Chelsea bun for Friday arvos. The shop sat vacant for a couple of months then a bootmaker and leatherworker/saddler moved in with his kids and friend. He was a good bloke, kept budgies, dozens or perhaps hundreds and got a bit of interest going in keeping birds. I got a job with him, cleaning and repainting show cages, wooden boxes with cage and door on the front, painted black outside and white inside, special paint that did not kill the birds and made of gold apparently because if you dropped a drop it cost a shilling. So I would work on these show cages and paint 4-5 a day, there was about a hundred or so, I used to work Saturday too and the shop would be busy. He was a SP bookie but it took me about a month to realise and in the end Dad told me what a SP bookie was. One phone, a table and a notebook and a radio in a room with a fridge. That phone was busy, you heard it inside and him talking, like this, Sydney 4, horse 4, say the runners name please, that's right, a pound, yes I'll take that, thank you. There was an inordinate amount of front counter traffic too, people who had never worn a pressed item in their life were there, female and male, the females swapping roles, just a few bets for my hubbie, and he would say, have one or two for yourself, and she might have a deener on something, 'whats that horse Mulley is riding in Melbourne today, I'll have a little'n on that please'. It was Kingster and it won. It took some months for mother dear to cotton on, then she allowed me to stay as, well, I had those cages to finish, and don't you dare go near those betting persons neither, then Miss G over the road commented on the devils work taking place in the place and that did it for me, I got yanked, I left then, I had almost finished the cages. I did not get any budgies. There was an argument and sometimes a fight on Saturday afternoons, perhaps a drunk wanting his money. They weren't all drunk, the mining manager and two engineers were regulars, religious, and teetotallers, although the Brazilian used to cheat at golf they said, the old two ball routine. He had clear brown skin and a pony tail and wore shoes with chrome metal lace eyelets, lovely dancer was Mums opinion, charm oozer was Dads opinion, he may have caused a few divorces in his time, and he taught me a Portuguese swearword, oh well Dad laughed until his bottom teeth moved, Mum was not impressed with me but forgave Senor. He wasn't murdered, could have been but, he was wrapped in a carpet or rug and left in the bush near an ants nest, one version, however he managed to unroll himself and got up and got away, hobbling from the kicking he got, another version, and the only confirmed action is that he left town, and the consulate came and collected his gear, the third version. If your bet won you got paid on Monday and not before, and paid by cheque too which the pub cashed for you, if you bought some of theirs. We, me, Mum and Dad went bush one weekend, out to Glenroy where they grew oranges in the desert, and when we came back on Sunday arvo we saw that our back gate was open, then saw that the boot making bookmaker house was empty. Miss G over the road told Dad that he had put everything on a truck early Sunday and left, leaving his birdcages and his budgies, dozens of them. The bird club fed and cared for the birds and they were re housed over the next week without loss. I was hoping for a selection of pied blues but Mum said no way. Dad said that bookies often run off with their bets, Mr Galvers the Policeman came and looked over things and said 'Tulloch done this' and there were shoes and boots everywhere inside the place, I mean it was a working bootmaking shop too, and the Police were there a couple of days sorting out who owned what. The SP bookie was often in the pub down the road, in effect the building next to his which was next to ours, although Dad drank at the big pub further down the street or at the Bowling Club. This afternoon, it was a Tuesday, I was on the woodheap cutting chips, when I heard arguing from down the pub, on the footpath. I looked, of course, and the SP bookie was being shouted at by a man, about the same size. Anyway the man took a swing, I mean it was so slow, and the SP ducked that and pushed the bloke away, he staggered backwards off the footpath, went the length of the car parked there, it was reverse in parking, and fell onto the roadway. He immediately held his head, his head had not contacted the ground, I mean I saw the lot, the push, the dance in reverse and the fall onto his backside. If he had a bad back he would have hurt that but no way did he hit his head, perhaps it was whiplash, perhaps he was looking for sympathy. The bookie stayed put and the bloke on the road got up and staggered back to him. He shouted again, apparently he was not going to pay, whatever he had to pay for and I assume it was not shoe repairs but his SP bill. The SP bookie walked off and the head holding man was left there and ignored by the drinkers outside the Pub. I watched and he came up the street to the front door of the bootmaking shop and kicked it and it broke, the wood panel broke and his leg went inside and his cuff got caught and he was swearing and it was entertainment before there was tv. So he was stuck in the door, the three ply had hold of his leg and he was hop scotching on the other. Mr Galvers, the Police Sergeant came in a few minutes, perhaps in response to the first shindig, the dance in reverse bit, and spoke to the door kicking, broken head, sore tailbone non paying SP punter, and went and spoke to the drinkers, who nodded and pointed, both out onto the road and up to where the door kicker was now, still hop scotching. Mr Galvers kicked in the rest of the door panel and the door kicker was free. The SP bootmaker walked up, with fish and chips rolled up in newspaper and spoke to the Police. The result was the door kicker had to come back and repair the door. I don't know if he paid for whatever he said he wouldn't, Mr Galvers said hello to me and walked back into the pub. He walked the main street footpath most days and walked through the pubs and often the drunks would be removed, left staggering on the footpath, talking to their car keys and muttering but standing to attention when he walked up and past them. Sometimes he would be walking with a man, or woman sometimes too, an arrest maybe or a person who needed to be spoken to or more likely a person who needed to be displayed as a person who needed Police intervention in their affairs, either as the perpertrator or the recipient. Mr Galvers and Dad were a bowling pair and he came to our house in shorts and he and Dad drank beer in the breeze room, water trickling down the walls out of the grape vine, big brown bottles, and I never had more than a few greeting words with him. There were other Police in town, younger men than him, one of them a very good footballer. I don't know if the SP bookie got his money as I said, but the door kicking non-payer was in the shop off and on the next few Saturdays. I was hitting tennis balls against the brick wall of the garage both days and saw him. The door got fixed, and painted and life went on. I saw that SP in another town, some time later, there was a flash of recognition from him. Dad was bowling and I had been at the pool and came back to the hotel to change before going to Dad for tea. The SP man was in the bar, near the side door, and had his book, his raffle tickets, and his paraphernalia with him. There was an SP bookie at school at Bathurst, there had been two, both the sons of bookies, who ran the show more for notoriety than gain. You got sp for the win and money back if it placed. He also had dibs on smokes, he was the Fiesta distributor in the place, 6d each, 3 for a shilling. B&H were slightly more, 2 shillings for three. Cheers Tony Image removed by sender. Virus-free. www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.jpg Type: image/jpeg Size: 350 bytes Desc: not available URL: From RaceStats at hotmail.com Mon Jan 8 20:14:55 2018 From: RaceStats at hotmail.com (Race Stats) Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2018 09:14:55 +0000 Subject: [AusRace] Tulloch done this and The SP On The Run In-Reply-To: <004501d38850$301f5f80$905e1e80$@buckland.id.au> References: <000001d38843$7c42df20$74c89d60$@bigpond.com> <004501d38850$301f5f80$905e1e80$@buckland.id.au> Message-ID: Yes, great story. Australia has changed a lot since then, some for the better, but mostly for the worse. I missed that generation by a bit, but listening to my Grandmother (the only one in Australia), as a kid, I remember stories like Tony's. My Papa used to listen to the races on a leather bound transistor radio, but was placed on an allowance after several bad losses. They lived in Moonee Ponds and if the races were on, he'd stop there on the way home on payday, if he had a win Mum got snowballs as a treat, if he lost there was hell to pay at home. I recently discovered that he may have been a penciller or runner for some bookies, as in his very precise neat writing style was a ledger in a notebook of various races and their balances owing or owed. It wasn't for himself, he was doing it on behalf of a bookie / bookies. I'll never know the full story as he passed away when I was about 6. Nana passed away a lot later, but you'd never mention gambling in her house - Ever! Lindsay From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Phil Buckland Sent: Monday, 8 January 2018 6:13 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] Tulloch done this and The SP On The Run Great Story Tony. I love these when you put them up Cheers Phil From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Tony Moffat Sent: Monday, 8 January 2018 3:43 PM To: racing at ausrace.com Subject: [AusRace] Tulloch done this and The SP On The Run 3.8 - THE SP ON THE RUN++++++++++++++++++++++++ There was a drycleaning shop on the Main Street next to our yard, the boiler whistle went off sometimes, overfull you see, and towards the end it was my job to put the pine crates, apple and orange boxes, into the firebox to keep steam up for Mr J pressing, and there wasn't a lot, ever, to be pressed. You got your clothes next morning, he drycleaned and ironed the afternoon before and they cooled down on hangers in his hallway overnight. They left, that family of drycleaners, the girls were older and flirty and the son was my age. Before they went though I learnt all a kid could learn about the ancient trade of cleaning with spirits, and steam. I got a ten shillings a week and I was 9. I had to buy a Chelsea bun for Friday arvos. The shop sat vacant for a couple of months then a bootmaker and leatherworker/saddler moved in with his kids and friend. He was a good bloke, kept budgies, dozens or perhaps hundreds and got a bit of interest going in keeping birds. I got a job with him, cleaning and repainting show cages, wooden boxes with cage and door on the front, painted black outside and white inside, special paint that did not kill the birds and made of gold apparently because if you dropped a drop it cost a shilling. So I would work on these show cages and paint 4-5 a day, there was about a hundred or so, I used to work Saturday too and the shop would be busy. He was a SP bookie but it took me about a month to realise and in the end Dad told me what a SP bookie was. One phone, a table and a notebook and a radio in a room with a fridge. That phone was busy, you heard it inside and him talking, like this, Sydney 4, horse 4, say the runners name please, that's right, a pound, yes I'll take that, thank you. There was an inordinate amount of front counter traffic too, people who had never worn a pressed item in their life were there, female and male, the females swapping roles, just a few bets for my hubbie, and he would say, have one or two for yourself, and she might have a deener on something, 'whats that horse Mulley is riding in Melbourne today, I'll have a little'n on that please'. It was Kingster and it won. It took some months for mother dear to cotton on, then she allowed me to stay as, well, I had those cages to finish, and don't you dare go near those betting persons neither, then Miss G over the road commented on the devils work taking place in the place and that did it for me, I got yanked, I left then, I had almost finished the cages. I did not get any budgies. There was an argument and sometimes a fight on Saturday afternoons, perhaps a drunk wanting his money. They weren't all drunk, the mining manager and two engineers were regulars, religious, and teetotallers, although the Brazilian used to cheat at golf they said, the old two ball routine. He had clear brown skin and a pony tail and wore shoes with chrome metal lace eyelets, lovely dancer was Mums opinion, charm oozer was Dads opinion, he may have caused a few divorces in his time, and he taught me a Portuguese swearword, oh well Dad laughed until his bottom teeth moved, Mum was not impressed with me but forgave Senor. He wasn't murdered, could have been but, he was wrapped in a carpet or rug and left in the bush near an ants nest, one version, however he managed to unroll himself and got up and got away, hobbling from the kicking he got, another version, and the only confirmed action is that he left town, and the consulate came and collected his gear, the third version. If your bet won you got paid on Monday and not before, and paid by cheque too which the pub cashed for you, if you bought some of theirs. We, me, Mum and Dad went bush one weekend, out to Glenroy where they grew oranges in the desert, and when we came back on Sunday arvo we saw that our back gate was open, then saw that the boot making bookmaker house was empty. Miss G over the road told Dad that he had put everything on a truck early Sunday and left, leaving his birdcages and his budgies, dozens of them. The bird club fed and cared for the birds and they were re housed over the next week without loss. I was hoping for a selection of pied blues but Mum said no way. Dad said that bookies often run off with their bets, Mr Galvers the Policeman came and looked over things and said 'Tulloch done this' and there were shoes and boots everywhere inside the place, I mean it was a working bootmaking shop too, and the Police were there a couple of days sorting out who owned what. The SP bookie was often in the pub down the road, in effect the building next to his which was next to ours, although Dad drank at the big pub further down the street or at the Bowling Club. This afternoon, it was a Tuesday, I was on the woodheap cutting chips, when I heard arguing from down the pub, on the footpath. I looked, of course, and the SP bookie was being shouted at by a man, about the same size. Anyway the man took a swing, I mean it was so slow, and the SP ducked that and pushed the bloke away, he staggered backwards off the footpath, went the length of the car parked there, it was reverse in parking, and fell onto the roadway. He immediately held his head, his head had not contacted the ground, I mean I saw the lot, the push, the dance in reverse and the fall onto his backside. If he had a bad back he would have hurt that but no way did he hit his head, perhaps it was whiplash, perhaps he was looking for sympathy. The bookie stayed put and the bloke on the road got up and staggered back to him. He shouted again, apparently he was not going to pay, whatever he had to pay for and I assume it was not shoe repairs but his SP bill. The SP bookie walked off and the head holding man was left there and ignored by the drinkers outside the Pub. I watched and he came up the street to the front door of the bootmaking shop and kicked it and it broke, the wood panel broke and his leg went inside and his cuff got caught and he was swearing and it was entertainment before there was tv. So he was stuck in the door, the three ply had hold of his leg and he was hop scotching on the other. Mr Galvers, the Police Sergeant came in a few minutes, perhaps in response to the first shindig, the dance in reverse bit, and spoke to the door kicking, broken head, sore tailbone non paying SP punter, and went and spoke to the drinkers, who nodded and pointed, both out onto the road and up to where the door kicker was now, still hop scotching. Mr Galvers kicked in the rest of the door panel and the door kicker was free. The SP bootmaker walked up, with fish and chips rolled up in newspaper and spoke to the Police. The result was the door kicker had to come back and repair the door. I don't know if he paid for whatever he said he wouldn't, Mr Galvers said hello to me and walked back into the pub. He walked the main street footpath most days and walked through the pubs and often the drunks would be removed, left staggering on the footpath, talking to their car keys and muttering but standing to attention when he walked up and past them. Sometimes he would be walking with a man, or woman sometimes too, an arrest maybe or a person who needed to be spoken to or more likely a person who needed to be displayed as a person who needed Police intervention in their affairs, either as the perpertrator or the recipient. Mr Galvers and Dad were a bowling pair and he came to our house in shorts and he and Dad drank beer in the breeze room, water trickling down the walls out of the grape vine, big brown bottles, and I never had more than a few greeting words with him. There were other Police in town, younger men than him, one of them a very good footballer. I don't know if the SP bookie got his money as I said, but the door kicking non-payer was in the shop off and on the next few Saturdays. I was hitting tennis balls against the brick wall of the garage both days and saw him. The door got fixed, and painted and life went on. I saw that SP in another town, some time later, there was a flash of recognition from him. Dad was bowling and I had been at the pool and came back to the hotel to change before going to Dad for tea. The SP man was in the bar, near the side door, and had his book, his raffle tickets, and his paraphernalia with him. There was an SP bookie at school at Bathurst, there had been two, both the sons of bookies, who ran the show more for notoriety than gain. You got sp for the win and money back if it placed. He also had dibs on smokes, he was the Fiesta distributor in the place, 6d each, 3 for a shilling. B&H were slightly more, 2 shillings for three. Cheers Tony [Image removed by sender.] Virus-free. www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.jpg Type: image/jpeg Size: 350 bytes Desc: image001.jpg URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Tue Jan 9 01:14:24 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2018 22:14:24 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] The Triffid and scoffed at and scorned by Scott Message-ID: <000001d3888a$fd77fd40$f867f7c0$@bigpond.com> 9.6 THE TRIFFID+++++++++++++++++++++++ Dad had a radial fan with bronze blades, one of those ones that swivelled, left and right, and there was no other choice, there was no way to stop it, it had gears to choose the swivel speed but no way to disengage them to leave it in one place, one direction full time. It shuddered, it made a crinkling noise when changing from left sweep to right sweep, and it moved, it waved itself around and it went right faster than it went left. I called it 'The Triffid' because it was tall on its pedestal, it moved upwards a full 2 inches when changing direction, it made this crinkling noise as I said, then it slumped down the previous 2 inches and moved on its swing of 90 degrees, maybe a little more, before it stopped, then stood up, then slumped down as it moved the other way. Fascinating. We didn't have tv yet, can't you tell, and we sat at the table in the dining room playing a boardgame or doing bookwork and 'The Triffid' did its thing over there, 'ick' upwards, a roar going to the other side, then an 'ick' upwards before it came back. The power cord was cloth covered and the plug was Bakelite. It had ten speeds, well a lot anyway, it was infinitely variable speedwise, you slid a lever at the back of the motor and it had to click three or more times before you realised it was speeding up. The variable speed was a selling point, because I reckon it had precious little else to commend it, it could'nt stop to cool you, or your soup, it just oscillated left then right with an ick sound at the start of each change of direction. Ours may have had the front mesh removed and not replaced. The blades where surrounded in a cage at the back and came forward where there was a circle with nothing in it to prevent fingers or hands or polony knobs or cucumbers being shoved in there, yes people did those things, one did all of them at least once. My friend D took the nose cone off the centre of the blade and drew concentric circles on this, down its width, then coloured these lines yellow, black and red/pink and when the fan rotates the nose cone wobbles, it doesn't but it gives that impression and mesmerises you. Don't look at the fan then is a common answer to peoples comment that they feel a flashback coming on, it was the 60's. It got replaced with a new big plastic blade fan that did everything, stopped, cooled your soup, oscillated, was quiet. We solved the problem of what to get Dad for Christmas, we got him a Parker pen, Mum got a fan, and some chocolate, because everybody likes chocolate don't they, Mum is not keen, but Dad and me like it. I took to The Triffid with the axe. You never know, you never bloody know. I had typed from a young age, like two, alright three. I remember standing on the chair to wind the paper in and around to get ready to type. Type was a loose explanation. It was more pleasant sounds in the early part, there were no words, nothing of consequence anyway. Really, when I could spell, when I knew what a word looked like, what they meant, I was skilled in typing. I knew that A was over here on the left, and that ON was top right then bottom middle, and to me it seemed automatic, those keys just fell into place with my two handed pecking, not fast but steady, and by 5 I was as quick as my Mum and by 9 I was quite an automatic typist, I had left the hunt and peck style behind, I thought of a sentence and as soon as the thought was completed, it was visible on the page. It was magic. Dads typewriter was an Imperial 66, a light green one and the family typewriter, a grey one on the table on the back veranda was also an Imperial 66, as was the machine at the Club, the Bowls Club and the Golf Club, the primary school, the high school and the Police Station, so they were popular. There was a supply of dozens of ribbons individually boxed and wrapped in perspex in his office cupboard, and we never paid for ribbon or paper or erasers or white out because we got his discards. There were rubbers, round ones, with red tape through the hole in the middle and all of that tied to the bottom bar so it was always handy. Dad stuck to his Parker blue pen and if you were stuck for a present buy him one of those, the ink user model though. They break, wear out kind of, the ink bladder goes awol and leaks in his pocket and the shirt ends up being cut up and used by me as rags to clean the mower with. But, yeah, he liked his Parker pens and had about 15 in a drawer in his desk, including a gold coated one with a gold nib. The electric typewriters came and he had one of those, a round ball writer, quick and deadly, it sounded efficient and was made to sound and react with electric quickness. His two Imperial 66 were in his garage at his retirement home later, along with a supply of ribbons sufficient for 10 lifetimes, with paper, and erasers, and Parker ink and pens, and his big jarrah desk with vinyl insert and inkwell. He had 1700 clients, and no computer. For 11 years I got ratings weekly, every Tuesday they arrived, priority post, from North Ryde post office, and that night, or by Wednesday mid morning, I had the Sporting Globe and the race pictures from Saturdays races and the sheets got stapled to that and I read and computed how they had arrived at the rating for most of the horses, only those out to 5 lengths were examined so over time I had a considerable collection of data, occasionally I had a bet on a mid week race, it depended on shifts and schedules though, and occasionally the raters provided information from SA or QLD or WA. I had cards printed, almost A4 size and on these I did the schematics for each chosen race, I ignored barrier and later ignored rider changes. There were spaces for the jockey name, the weight, the barrier, the date of the run used as the base for this race, the rating. From the rating I deducted todays weight and generally I stopped there. My thinking was that I could not be that precise to zero in on the winner, instead I chose to back several to get me a dividend. Trifectas and quinellas then were an earner for me, my bank size jumped with the occasional 100% dividend from them, rather than a supply of steady winners which still arrived using the ratings. I had conversed with the rater, the provider, about correcting for weight carried then and now, and the barrier. He had a book with examples of workouts in it and in each of those, bar three, the winner was selected at the point I stopped at, the weight deduction from the rating. However he made a good and eloquent point in answering me and as he had used his corrections in his book he maintained his stance. There is a sample there, in the book, where Gala Supreme is one of three selections in The Cup, it's ability score is improved by stopping at the weight deduction phase. In the Gala Supreme matter I also queried the use of barrier correction, in a two mile race. I am still not correcting for jockeys, treating them as 0, neither a plus or minus just a requirement. The rater maintains that a runner is improved by running this distance with less weight, a longer race with less weight. The runners score is decreased by running this distance with more weight, by running a longer distance with more weight. It is changeable what difference a lesser distance makes with more or less weight this race. This is the accelerating/de-acclerating effect, the ADE, that was scoffed at and scorned by Scott. The man who owned the ratings was very generous with his time and trouble in responding to my queries. These were always typed in the Imperial 66 typeface, as were his rating sheets although I was told these were composed on an early version of a composite program, similar to printing compositors, still in what was Imperial 66 typeface as I said. I still have these, the ratings and the type written replies to my questions. On Friday nights, we had a joint child minding deal, come for bbq and beer, and work on tomorrows races, girls allowed and this went well for a few years. I did Melbourne both Handicapping and Weight Rating with another bloke, two others did Sydney, where there were better betting bonuses, together we did Brisbane and Adelaide. The group folded, it shrunk to 4 or so couples and was always at my place where the data was essentially but different needs and interests arose, kids grew. We moved and that was the end of it. I kept subscribing to the ratings but in a year or so found myself doing the workouts infrequently, and working a Saturday more often was a dampener, together with T ball and Rumpus, we moved again and it was impossible to get the ratings before Friday, priority paid or not and there were no form papers until mid day Saturday and none during the week. I cancelled after 11 years but it was still viable and remains so I believe. I have had a phone TAB account continually since 1978, about when they started I reckon. Towards the end I got a Canon programmable calculator with the rating program installed, you banged away at that tiny keyboard entering the data you wanted assessed and it went off with its 8k ram, the screen went blank, you tapped your pencil and it returned with an answer and the Basic Y/N? and in the end it collated everything and priced the runners to 80%, very civilised. The kids joined in, it was marked on the calendar whose night it was, so it was deadly serious. I went to a TRS80 , perhaps more for the Pong than the ponys, again this was popular with the kids. It all ended when I cancelled the subscription though. This was about the time they became Neddybank and that was off-putting. Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From norsaintpublishing at gmail.com Tue Jan 9 07:51:29 2018 From: norsaintpublishing at gmail.com (norsaintpublishing at gmail.com) Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2018 07:51:29 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] The Triffid and scoffed at and scorned by Scott In-Reply-To: <000001d3888a$fd77fd40$f867f7c0$@bigpond.com> References: <000001d3888a$fd77fd40$f867f7c0$@bigpond.com> Message-ID: Ah, the old Handicapper's Weight Charts, eh Tony. Could never decide yea or nay with the ADE. Like you, barriers and jocks were zeroed. Sent with Mailtrack On Tue, Jan 9, 2018 at 1:14 AM, Tony Moffat wrote: > > > 9.6 THE TRIFFID+++++++++++++++++++++++ > > Dad had a radial fan with bronze blades, one of those ones that swivelled, > left and right, and there was no other choice, there was no way to stop it, > it had gears to choose the swivel speed but no way to disengage them to > leave it in one place, one direction full time. It shuddered, it made a > crinkling noise when changing from left sweep to right sweep, and it moved, > it waved itself around and it went right faster than it went left. > > I called it ?The Triffid? because it was tall on its pedestal, it moved > upwards a full 2 inches when changing direction, it made this crinkling > noise as I said, then it slumped down the previous 2 inches and moved on > its swing of 90 degrees, maybe a little more, before it stopped, then stood > up, then slumped down as it moved the other way. Fascinating. We didn?t > have tv yet, can?t you tell, and we sat at the table in the dining room > playing a boardgame or doing bookwork and ?The Triffid? did its thing over > there, ?ick? upwards, a roar going to the other side, then an ?ick? upwards > before it came back. The power cord was cloth covered and the plug was > Bakelite. It had ten speeds, well a lot anyway, it was infinitely variable > speedwise, you slid a lever at the back of the motor and it had to click > three or more times before you realised it was speeding up. The variable > speed was a selling point, because I reckon it had precious little else to > commend it, it could?nt stop to cool you, or your soup, it just oscillated > left then right with an ick sound at the start of each change of direction. > Ours may have had the front mesh removed and not replaced. The blades where > surrounded in a cage at the back and came forward where there was a circle > with nothing in it to prevent fingers or hands or polony knobs or cucumbers > being shoved in there, yes people did those things, one did all of them at > least once. My friend D took the nose cone off the centre of the blade and > drew concentric circles on this, down its width, then coloured these lines > yellow, black and red/pink and when the fan rotates the nose cone wobbles, > it doesn?t but it gives that impression and mesmerises you. Don?t look at > the fan then is a common answer to peoples comment that they feel a > flashback coming on, it was the 60?s. It got replaced with a new big > plastic blade fan that did everything, stopped, cooled your soup, > oscillated, was quiet. We solved the problem of what to get Dad for > Christmas, we got him a Parker pen, Mum got a fan, and some chocolate, > because everybody likes chocolate don?t they, Mum is not keen, but Dad and > me like it. > > I took to The Triffid with the axe. You never know, you never bloody know. > > I had typed from a young age, like two, alright three. I remember standing > on the chair to wind the paper in and around to get ready to type. Type was > a loose explanation. It was more pleasant sounds in the early part, there > were no words, nothing of consequence anyway. Really, when I could spell, > when I knew what a word looked like, what they meant, I was skilled in > typing. I knew that A was over here on the left, and that ON was top right > then bottom middle, and to me it seemed automatic, those keys just fell > into place with my two handed pecking, not fast but steady, and by 5 I was > as quick as my Mum and by 9 I was quite an automatic typist, I had left the > hunt and peck style behind, I thought of a sentence and as soon as the > thought was completed, it was visible on the page. It was magic. Dads > typewriter was an Imperial 66, a light green one and the family typewriter, > a grey one on the table on the back veranda was also an Imperial 66, as was > the machine at the Club, the Bowls Club and the Golf Club, the primary > school, the high school and the Police Station, so they were popular. There > was a supply of dozens of ribbons individually boxed and wrapped in perspex > in his office cupboard, and we never paid for ribbon or paper or erasers or > white out because we got his discards. There were rubbers, round ones, with > red tape through the hole in the middle and all of that tied to the bottom > bar so it was always handy. > > Dad stuck to his Parker blue pen and if you were stuck for a present buy > him one of those, the ink user model though. They break, wear out kind of, > the ink bladder goes awol and leaks in his pocket and the shirt ends up > being cut up and used by me as rags to clean the mower with. But, yeah, he > liked his Parker pens and had about 15 in a drawer in his desk, including a > gold coated one with a gold nib. The electric typewriters came and he had > one of those, a round ball writer, quick and deadly, it sounded efficient > and was made to sound and react with electric quickness. > > His two Imperial 66 were in his garage at his retirement home later, along > with a supply of ribbons sufficient for 10 lifetimes, with paper, and > erasers, and Parker ink and pens, and his big jarrah desk with vinyl insert > and inkwell. He had 1700 clients, and no computer. > > For 11 years I got ratings weekly, every Tuesday they arrived, priority > post, from North Ryde post office, and that night, or by Wednesday mid > morning, I had the Sporting Globe and the race pictures from Saturdays > races and the sheets got stapled to that and I read and computed how they > had arrived at the rating for most of the horses, only those out to 5 > lengths were examined so over time I had a considerable collection of data, > occasionally I had a bet on a mid week race, it depended on shifts and > schedules though, and occasionally the raters provided information from SA > or QLD or WA. > > I had cards printed, almost A4 size and on these I did the schematics for > each chosen race, I ignored barrier and later ignored rider changes. There > were spaces for the jockey name, the weight, the barrier, the date of the > run used as the base for this race, the rating. From the rating I deducted > todays weight and generally I stopped there. My thinking was that I could > not be that precise to zero in on the winner, instead I chose to back > several to get me a dividend. Trifectas and quinellas then were an earner > for me, my bank size jumped with the occasional 100% dividend from them, > rather than a supply of steady winners which still arrived using the > ratings. > > I had conversed with the rater, the provider, about correcting for weight > carried then and now, and the barrier. He had a book with examples of > workouts in it and in each of those, bar three, the winner was selected at > the point I stopped at, the weight deduction from the rating. However he > made a good and eloquent point in answering me and as he had used his > corrections in his book he maintained his stance. There is a sample there, > in the book, where Gala Supreme is one of three selections in The Cup, it?s > ability score is improved by stopping at the weight deduction phase. In the > Gala Supreme matter I also queried the use of barrier correction, in a two > mile race. I am still not correcting for jockeys, treating them as 0, > neither a plus or minus just a requirement. The rater maintains that a > runner is improved by running this distance with less weight, a longer race > with less weight. The runners score is decreased by running this distance > with more weight, by running a longer distance with more weight. It is > changeable what difference a lesser distance makes with more or less weight > this race. This is the accelerating/de-acclerating effect, the ADE, that > was scoffed at and scorned by Scott. The man who owned the ratings was very > generous with his time and trouble in responding to my queries. These were > always typed in the Imperial 66 typeface, as were his rating sheets > although I was told these were composed on an early version of a composite > program, similar to printing compositors, still in what was Imperial 66 > typeface as I said. I still have these, the ratings and the type written > replies to my questions. > > On Friday nights, we had a joint child minding deal, come for bbq and > beer, and work on tomorrows races, girls allowed and this went well for a > few years. I did Melbourne both Handicapping and Weight Rating with another > bloke, two others did Sydney, where there were better betting bonuses, > together we did Brisbane and Adelaide. The group folded, it shrunk to 4 or > so couples and was always at my place where the data was essentially but > different needs and interests arose, kids grew. We moved and that was the > end of it. I kept subscribing to the ratings but in a year or so found > myself doing the workouts infrequently, and working a Saturday more often > was a dampener, together with T ball and Rumpus, we moved again and it was > impossible to get the ratings before Friday, priority paid or not and there > were no form papers until mid day Saturday and none during the week. I > cancelled after 11 years but it was still viable and remains so I believe. > I have had a phone TAB account continually since 1978, about when they > started I reckon. Towards the end I got a Canon programmable calculator > with the rating program installed, you banged away at that tiny keyboard > entering the data you wanted assessed and it went off with its 8k ram, the > screen went blank, you tapped your pencil and it returned with an answer > and the Basic Y/N? and in the end it collated everything and priced the > runners to 80%, very civilised. The kids joined in, it was marked on the > calendar whose night it was, so it was deadly serious. I went to a TRS80 , > perhaps more for the Pong than the ponys, again this was popular with the > kids. It all ended when I cancelled the subscription though. This was about > the time they became Neddybank and that was off-putting. > > Cheers > > > > Tony > > > Virus-free. > www.avg.com > > <#m_-7685131384447229346_DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2> > > _______________________________________________ > Racing mailing list > Racing at ausrace.com > http://ausrace.com/mailman/listinfo/racing_ausrace.com > > -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From terry_styles at hotmail.com Tue Jan 9 13:40:45 2018 From: terry_styles at hotmail.com (terry styles) Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2018 02:40:45 +0000 Subject: [AusRace] The Triffid and scoffed at and scorned by Scott In-Reply-To: References: <000001d3888a$fd77fd40$f867f7c0$@bigpond.com>, Message-ID: Tony, Have to fee sorry for the inventors of the golf ball electronic typing machines - they got such a short run before becoming obsolete. Cant agree that Dettori does not get a negative rating in the MC. Especially after the sub apprentice grade ride on Almandin. Terry -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Wed Jan 10 01:34:45 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Tue, 9 Jan 2018 22:34:45 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] Chrissy, Comicquita and Rack Man and Off - The Cup of '62 Message-ID: <000001d38956$ff6c8090$fe4581b0$@bigpond.com> This is long, and not all of it is horsey, but Chris is in all of it 7.2 CHRISSY++++++++++++++++ Chris was born on Australia Day 1950, it was the year Comic Court won beating Chicquita in The Cup. Comic Court had run in 1949 and 1948, so he knew where to go, she said. Chrissy was telling Mum about her day of birth, it was a difficult time, her being born and that, her mother was kept in hospital for a year and Chris was with her all that time. Mum got the specifics and as it was about girls, and that, I pumped up the tyres on our bikes. In 1962 her and me got talking about racehorses, like normal 14 year olds, both of us on the lie lo, and as luck would have it Paddos Mum had a difficult time with the new bub and had gone to Sydney on the medical plane and Paddos Dad had come back and bought The Truth with him, the Cup Special, with naked horses and almost everything else. We were looking at them, reading the advice column, and generally doing the form. Actually, the advice column where I was reading was on the other side of the sheet that Chris was reading, about Comicquita, Chicquita and Comic Court Chrissy got the thudding realisation that Comicquita was the child of the winner and second of the 1950 edition The Cup, the year of her birth, and there has to be something boss with that, right. It was 50 and 1, she said, I could win 50 with the money in my sock. Let me explain, Chris and I both worked after school, she did the milk round, she took over from me, and I worked in the wood yard, with Dave, and his Dad, Dave. Chris got paid in coins and all that went into her sock, her Barraba Football Club sock hanging on the inside of her wardrobe, and when that made a noise when she opened the sliding door and mirror it was time to count it and put most of it into her savings account. She had 41 pounds and change towards a new piano, the current one was fine, except it would take so long to save for a new one she had better start now, type of thing. So this omen she said was very strong, being wrapped in birth parents, sires and dams, Melbourne Cups, Mr Cummings, and Tamure, her Dads 3rd wife was Polynesian and that was a spiritual dance. Its all beyond co-incidence really, don?t you see it. No, but you do Christine. We both had work soon, so we went on our bikes to her wardrobe to get her money then to the caf?, on the corner of the lane and the Main Street and the sp shop was down there a bit, Mr and Mrs Hammond shop, it was busy there, men were standing, talking, smoking and it was the afternoon before the Cup. Chris wanted a pound on Comicquita, and asked me to do it. I said no, but, and before I could explain, Dave, the Dad of Dave, walked up to ask if I wanted a lift or something. I asked him to put the bet on for her, and he did, three pounds. She said thanks, and left to go to the dairy out of town and I went home to change for work at the woodyard, with Dave and his Dad, Dave, but you know that. Next day was Cup Day and we were at school, nobody had the radio on, she was at the convent still and asked a parent who, or what had won to be told her pick came second. She came and found me walking across the park to home, I too had heard and said to her well done for going so close. Chris said she would never bet on anything ever again but thank you. It was worth a pulpy, shared, and she put extra ice cream in it and I got my bike and dinked her home. I didn?t know, didn?t realise she had plonked her three on it, a quid maybe, but she said she did, and had the winnings spent last night, before sleeping, and today when she woke up. Music bought her around, and she played without stopping, and talking, for twenty minutes or more when I had to go to work. Chrissy was a friend from primary school and junior high school. She played the piano all the time I knew her and in her adult life played in an orchestra, that was her job, her dream job because there was no money in it. She left town at the end of 2nd year high school to study music in Sydney, live out west somewhere with her Dad, and catch the Fish at 6.47am to get to Central at 7.47am, it?s a little earlier and longer now. She always got a seat in the second carriage, it was warmer on the left, it was cooler on the right. If it was cold she caught the bus, from Emu Plains to Strathfield, behind the driver and so nice with the foot heater going, then she caught a direct train, to Central, no stops, and she read her music throughout. Funny then, now people listen to music, then she read it, got lost in it. She played popular music on the piano, some of it top 40, and although she was tested on the greats, Tit ya cow ski she called him, Bark, Rack Man and Off, Mussenfart Mozart from the second line of the poem of the same name and she passed to be graded again, she came back to music she liked, not what others wanted her to play. She looked at you when she did, in my case a little over my shoulder, left or right, she played without looking at her hands, the music sheet was on top of the baby grand, a Knobe and heavy, beyond her and me, but as I said she engaged and there was no drama, no dancing of her hands, no closing of eyes to keep the mood, she played, glanced at the page sometimes, got criticised because this was her re-writing and playing some poor beggars work. She said she got the tune, then the melody, worked out what her left hand was required to do and started with a pente, a single chord, sustained, then she started, perhaps loud because well, this was an orchestra, and the bass would mirror hers if he was good. She learnt it because she played it, repeatedly, 40 seconds in, flipping heck she?d say, tinkle, my word, to get that bridge to work, then go back and come at me with a full blown rendition of somebodys beautiful tune, her way, their life work, her version. More than once I had to go and buy the 45, will ya, Or source the album, because what was on the sheet didn?t run down the arms to the fingers to the keys and the HMV record player helped there. Bull crap, she said, that is not what it says, she pointed to the speaker, looking at the sheet music, listening. Nah, they don?t get it either and they are playing their version, so am I then. Ok. I still own a model plane engine, somewhere, but then I had three, different sizes, and collected when I purchased going aircraft for minimal outlays. These were wire controlled jobs and Chrissy and I had fights with them, she had the bigger engine smaller plane model and I had the bomber. Its involved, but I would add the ether to the castor oil and fuel hers, about 7 minutes worth, then dab ether on the intake foam and start that quickly, this would sit on the ground, the tarmac in model aircraft speak, revving it?s guts out. Meanwhile I would start the bomber motor and get airborne with that and do a H pattern, in model aircraft speak, but in reality a rectangle, and as I walked the rectangle and got close to Chrissy revving motor on the ground I knelt and wound in the compression tap on that and off it went. Chrissy watched it going in ever faster circles on the ground but she had to step outside me in the rectangle to keep her plane free of my control wires and away from me basically. It went well most times and Chris got her speed up and up she came, with a holler from her, rarely a squeal and more often a giggle, lots of them. Then she had to fly up behind me and over the top to pass me and meanwhile I circuited steadily, flat, about eye height for me, and I?m tall and sometimes she caught me, sometimes she didn?t and sometimes she ran out of fuel trying to do both those things. The ether supply was a problem because the chemist sometimes wouldn?t sell it to me, no he said you might sniff it and turn maniacal, and I thought I was. Dad bought 2 pints of it back from Sydney so that bump got eliminated. There were others flying nearby to us too, up at the oval at the showgrounds and this was the start of the radio controlled era, that is in full swing now. Then, the radio controlled aspect was more like kerosene control, those planes got airborne alright and did a few laps and more than once when they came out of circular flight and went straight they stayed straight and you watched them go out of sight, way over there somewhere, out of sight and out of hearing, and the operator pressing the buttons and the levers with all his strength which didn?t translate to radio control at all, and the planes getting smaller in the distance and decreasing in height until there was no more sound, sight, except the noise of running feet in the direction of the plane most often. So we felt duty bound to stop our flying, our fun, and we took a sighter down the track of the last seen plane and we peddled in that direction and found them often, well they were always found but not by us always. So we peddled back to the strip if we couldn?t see the owners car nearby where we found the errant plane, put his gear with his gear and went back to our flying. Once one of those big radio controlled escapees was found by us and had a rip on the wing, the doctored fabric there perhaps ripped when it landed in the tree, it was up in the understorey when we found it. So the owner returned, happy to have his plane back, despondent at not having a very good radio control box and angry that I had ripped his plane in recovering it, I hadn?t. The mother got snippity and I said, look I didn?t, and I wouldn?t be looking or helping to look in future. So Mum got told about my criminal behaviour and Mum told her that I wouldn?t be looking for any escapees either, and nor would Chrissy because she would tell her Mum. The plane was for sale in the next paper that came out. My planes were double doped, they had two layers of fabric on the wings, fuselage and control surfaces because that is one way to make them really robust. They needed that added robustness because in the early days I crashed frequently, often skying in a stall then crashing, powering into the dirt from there, but they never broke or got ripped. It was fun, it was, and perhaps we were exposed to the principles of flight, restricted as it is. Chrissy was fascinated, truly, and read and read, and was rarely without her bible Flight without Formulae. I gave her the bomber and she cut her hand on the propeller, the first knuckle joint of the index finger, it was revving up and bouncing in place, and she reached in to tighten the compression bolt and the propeller arc got her good, there was blood from the cut, so what does she do? She kept at it, the plane circling on the ground, all revved up and nowhere to go then she whipped her T shirt off with one hand and wrapped that around her hand. She had her bikini top on, so there was decorum and civility, well there was until I got up to her, she was still laughing and bumping with her buttocks as my hands roamed, tickling and touching the square feet of available skin. That plane went up on fast level flight, the pain meaning concentration and application of technique. So she flew her plane until the fuel load went and she coasted, glided it in perfectly, and we looked at her hand and the cut. It was ok, but I?m not a doctor and neither is she, she wanted another go round but we didn?t. I strapped my plane on my back, put the other stuff in the crate on the back of my bike, she hopped on the cross bar holding her oversize plane, away from her and away from that hot engine and off we scooted, heading for her home, wash off the blood and apply a band aid, perhaps some gentian violet, the antiseptic of choice back then. We got home to be met by her mother, asking why her kid was flashing her bikini top to all and sundry, both of those being me, Chris didn?t answer that but said look, he gave me a plane a plane of my own, aren?t I lucky, isn?t he nice. Again the bikini top question and straight away another question about why her t shirt had blood on it and why was it wrapped around her hand. Chrissy hands are special, they always are but hers were her future livelihood, the piano playing maestro she would become, and have I wrecked all that by causing her finger to be cut open, with the ligaments and bones exposed, blood poisoning from the plastic, and she was so angry. I had put all our gear on the veranda, the planes, the crate with the fuel and parts, rags, a banana skin, a water bottle, and when Chris said about her new ownership of her own plane her mother picked up a pot plant and dropped it on the plane, breaking it, the fuselage crushed and nearly separated, nearly broken into two parts. My thinking was that it was an overreaction, more so because she had broken my plane, the one I was going to keep. Chrissy wrestled with her Mum, there were swear words and jostling and this crazy dance going on amongst the pieces of my plane. I saved the other plane and ran to the roadway verge with it, I scooped up everything else into the crate I had, an apple box made of pine, then went and held Christine away from her mother. It seems there had been a pre-existing conflict, believe me I heard about most of them but this one had not been told. Christine had to wear turtle leather gloves if she was doing dangerous things, and yes, getting hit with a propeller would qualify as the result of a dangerous thing. So it quietened a bit, and the Mum apologised for her behaviour to me, but not to Chris who was in tears, from the event that just occurred, from the shame it seems, more than embarrassment anyway that the event had caused her, for the loss of the plane which angered her, and caused her mother to apologise again, then again, to me when it hit home that she had destroyed something of mine, not Christine?s. I stayed for a while and it cooled, there was tension, sure, and Christine said sorry to her Mum for the wrestle, which she won, and the Mum said sorry for what she had done. After 30 minutes or so we got to the real reason we were there, the doctoring and dressing of Chrissy pinky. Mum took her to hospital and they took the band aid off and put another one on so our plastering skills were pretty good overall. Chris came home to our house after a while and she lay crosswise on the bed and she explained, in detail, the fingers protection required now, and the reason for it. I have highlighted it somewhat by talking about it, but there was no extra or added precaution, except the silky gloves she wore, turtle leather it said on the packet, when gardening, or nailing or extra curricular stuff that might cause her finger or fingers to be damaged, just wear the gloves in that case and I think she might have, milk deliveries, watching me in the wood yard, watching, those kinds of things. Within two days the finger healed and she never stopped playing, practicing all the while. She kept the bomber and flew it occasionally after that. I disassembled my smashed plane and kept the bits that I could, the control mechanism, the engine and tank, the ailerons, and the rest I burnt, it flared and disappeared within a minute. I got a hug while this was happening and a sorry from her to me. Wire controls were old fashioned in model plane flying and the best I could do was buy a second hand plane from the paper when I was in Sydney next. I bought 3, a pound each, one had a non-functioning motor that did go with some coaxing then seized in flight, oh no a plane crash but it survived and I had a spare motor anyway. Those planes did not survive several moves by Mum and Dad and I was not there to ensure their safety, their survival, and they went the same way as my clothes from when I was 10 or younger, into the bin and out with the garbage. I had an engine, a motor, in a different spot and this was saved, you could say, but an engine without a fuel tank, with out fuel, without a plane or some flight surface and a method to control it is just an engine and nothing else, perhaps a sinker. They?re are diesel in principal and mine had no muffler, quitener, and the noise was part of the experience, now they have formed exhausts which assists the energy production, a lot. Those engines were tiny, the next size up takes you into the glow plug area, where you heat up the engine before trying to manually start it, still flipping the prop with that distinctive sound, compression without ignition. Somebody has attributed 290 horsepower to a litre from those motors, although they are only 3 cc in volume, they measured the output then multiplied it to get that ridiculous power production figure, perhaps they were salesman, probably used to selling racing bicycles or similar. With Chris,I don?t know what she ate, ok, I saw her eat sometimes but she didn?t eat much. Nor was she skinny, and not anything other than a normal girl, with curves and everything. But the eating was a tea bag mug of tea at my place, and my toast, dry, sitting with Mum looking at clothes in Woman?s Day, one leg up and that foot on the seat and sitting on the other. She had fruit at school, sometimes, and an occasional lolly, chocolate caused her problems so did milk. Her one treat was jubes, and she stopped at five, she said she was full but squeamish was more like it. Otherwise she was good, good to be with and around. I have been lucky with my choices, my choices, no there is a mutuality more often, a happy place for me and them, my mates, and often they specialise and become closer, and in this case we got together then got together. There is a commonality here, between girls I know and showers and Chrissy was no exception. Often, alright sometimes we would get back to our house, filthy, sweaty, dirty, from riding, exploring, doing things. Chris would ask to have a shower then went, then wanted me to come and talk to her, so I sat in the hallway opposite the door and could see skin for a short while, hair at various locations, and conversation always. Come in here, don?t make me yell, but I didn?t. I think nudity didn?t scare her, and to me, nudity was an invitation to do other things, but to her it was a natural state of being, two friends. I never got nude, I never went in there, close to her and when she re-appeared she was clean and dressed and refusing a kiss because it was my turn to shower now and I closed the door. Then when I was clean, slightly red and warm, then I got that kiss. Mum and her were a pair, I think Mum thought that this woman child was going to steal her little boys virginity, and there was an uneasiness there, respectful but a distance, helped or seeded by Chrissy Mum talking to my Mum about me and Chrissy, and I?m thinking the topic of my viginity, not forgetting Christine either, were discussed. Chris guessed what it was about and I didn?t realise, I had no idea that I was the prize in some sort of competition or game, and if I had realised perhaps I would have got unwrapped earlier, or at least undressed, no seriously. We didn?t though, we did stuff but not that, we did kissing and holding, hugging and nothing more. Remember how old we were too, and I was older than her by a year and 18 days. Chris bought up the topic of Mum steering me, away from Chris and towards chastity, purity, and non-involvement of sins of the flesh. They are not saying don?t be with him, just not away by yourselves for days, afternoons, evenings. Chris said she enjoyed her time with me, our times kissing especially as it was not an end of episode activity, if Chris wanted a kiss, she went and got it, with me it was necessary for me to sneak and hold her for a time, hug that form, and in a little while she would turn to face me and well, you know what comes next. That?s how it was, license free for her, a ritual, glorious as it is, a ritual for me. But no sex, and nothing sexual let me hasten to add, nothing. I was doing the tea dishes and I asked Mum if she thought Chris was too much girl for me, that?s what I said. Mum lit one up and leant against the kitchen counter and said, well, is she, whats happening. So I said, truthfully, we were kissing and hugging, holding hands, and that was enjoyable and expected and while I knew about other things I had not experienced them yet. the furthering of intimacy Mum said, and I had to say, sorry, what. Sex, bub, and I said no, no sex, Chris wouldn?t do it I said, Chris has never talked sex with me, she has, and truly we are just good friends. You know about the birds and bees. Mum, yes, I have condoms, so. Well that started her going didn?t it? So half way through her interrogation, I showed her the condom in my wallet, Earls Lubricated Sheath, normal size wise, and normal mothers would have shed a tear when the fruit of their loins demonstrates a cleaving of nurturing and shows a bit of independence and forethought, a pinch of maturity then. Not my Mum apparently, she bloody laughed at me. And I laughed with her. Not sure why but when she said, give it to me I want to tell Dad, and I gave over the condom, and she rubbed it in its packet between her thumb and finger. I have others, frangers, and really it is a sort of currency at high school, a repayment for a favour, here have one of these. I heard Dad laughing, loudly, and I stayed away, I took my comic into the toilet and I heard him walking down the hall onto the rear veranda and into my room, then he said through the door, Oi Gaylord, there is something on your bed. It was the condom and we never had the talk. It took a few days but I bought the subject up with Chrissy, not the sex, not straight away, the condom conundrum, show me she said, so I did, and then she opened the packet, rip, and out it came with all its greasy slipperiness. I had no idea she said, aren?t you sneaky. Was I sneaky, no, and believe me, we had never talked about sexual congress, that?s what they call it in the textbook, never snuck away to do that, and really we found private moments, places, times, to be together as a couple, and we did young teen things and that?s all. Chris said I have thought about it, sure, but no, not yet. I said the same. We remained friends as a result. Yes, I lied to my mother, did you see it, and do you know why. There was a talk about sleeping together, somewhere, just to snuggle to use her words, nothing more, just get warm and sleep. We didn?t do that either, we talked about it but no, didn?t happen. I gave her 3 condoms. She kept two and made a plastic animal kind of thing with the interior blown up and everything all twisted. I owned a road registered car, a Ford Pilot ute, v8, with manual gears on the steering column, and this before I had my drivers licence. I got my drivers licence in Dads car, the EJ, and the same day I got my motorcycle licence, with a newish 250cc Suzuki Hustler. The worst punch, or the best punch, I ever saw was over the use of a towel. What happened was somebody had teased a girl, a little girl, young, 10 or less. It was ridiculous teasing, like it?s my towel, you can?t have it, and that type of thing, apparently the words said by the teaser, then the teaser wiped himself with the towel then threw the towel up onto the top of the fence where it was caught and tangled by the barb wire. Cry now, you big baby was the parting goad to the little girl and he said if she told anybody he would rape her and off he went, towards the pub lane. Chris was at the pool, with her sisters, waiting for me to finish work in the wood yard and come down there to cool off, to at least get rid of the wood staining on my legs and hands and arms. Chrissy saw and heard what happened, saw the boy, a man actually, say and do the things I wrote. She told me when I got there, the girl had gone, the man had gone, the towel was still up on the barb wire. I had a swim, and a talk about this, and together, with help from Phil the pool man and his ladder, we got the towel down. At that moment the father of the girl showed up, his interpretation was that I would help him find and punish the man involved, the teaser. I was 14 years old and I wasn?t going to get involved in any affairs involving the father and the man. I do not know his name, the teaser or the father. So the father drove off, I guess to go looking, but actually he went recruiting, his friends got into a posse and they went about the town apparently looking for the man, the teaser. I was not part of this, I was with Chrissy and almost at her home with her sisters when the father drove up and asked Chris to go with him to point out the teaser, the man, and Chris said no, he is about 20, thin, tall, boney, with black hair and he had football shorts on and a singlet. That narrowed it down to three, all three got found and belted up, no other word for it, they did a mass attack on three likely blokes and punched them until they ran away. If the towel man was in that group he was dealt with but how could you tell doing it that way. A day later the Police spoke to Chrissy, and to me, and I was not needed, but they spoke to Phil at the pool and as it turned out the towel man did get caught. It went quiet for a while, a couple of days, then there was another attack on the towel man, he was belted again and the belter got found out and was charged. There was a group outside the courthouse when he first appeared, a few weeks later, and there were words, punching back and forth, kicking from one side and the Police waited for it to settle, and took four away, and they were charged with assaulting the father. That night it got noisy in town and down the Main Street, which is where I lived there was shouting, and probably a fight, and then the father came up the street and was standing outside the hall, opposite my house when a man ran at him with a rake, the father avoided the rake and in the process put out a short right, or was it a left, and this connected with the rake swinger and you saw its affect throughout his body, there was an energy transference from his head to his neck, to his shoulders to his back, to his hips, to his legs to his feet. The next sound, after the phaat of the hit, was the rake falling to the ground with the rake swinger falling side on after that, down and staying down, the father looked at the man on the ground, moved him on his side then walked into the Club. The man on the ground did not move, and I left my spot, near the geraniums, turned off the hose and went to where he was. I looked at him and his eyes were, seriously, rotating, his eyeballs were searching for something to focus on and missing the mark completely. Then he became sick, vomited, how much food had he eaten, liquid pie or something. He stopped that, he was covered in that really because it had pooled and ponded around him. My offer was to help him up, help him over the road, and spray him clean, near the geraniums to maximise the water use. He said ok and we did that, I gave him a severe drenching but got most of the clinging bits off him and he took control of the hose and got the remainder. He sat on the fence and asked for a smoke and I went to get him one of mine and when I came back he was fossicking in Dads car, the door was open and he was looking inside, the front then the back seat, looking for something to steal I thought, fossicking. Sorry he said, I gave him a smoke and a light and we stood without speaking. Then a group of cars came back, the fathers friends and they were looking over the road for something, I?m guessing they weren?t looking for the rake, they found that, but not the rake holder because he was kneeling down behind Dads car, hiding I assumed. Then they left and it went quiet and the man stood, unsteadily, then left after asking for my smokes, I said no, then he tried to bully me to get my smokes, me, the angel who sprays. So I watered the lawn where the sick was, I re watered the geraniums, I washed the car and when Mum and Dad came home I said nothing to them about what had happened. I don?t know if the man who got punched and got sick was the teaser. The father pleaded guilty, did the right thing, apologised for his actions, did not avail himself of two of the 7 excuses available to him, just stood and spoke to the Magistrate and said he felt an overwhelming anger towards the victim for the torment and the trauma he had caused his child. He was given a suspended sentence, to be of good behaviour for 12 months, he was a first offender, a Vietnam vet, an ex soldier of 12 years standing, they had left the town at this stage, the child needed counselling and more. The teaser skipped bail and he was re-arrested twice more. He was charged with a public order offence only The court case involving the other men didn?t go ahead, I heard it was because the witnesses did not show up to speak. The Police tried a couple of times to get it heard, to get it out in the open but those involved couldn?t be bothered perhaps, or did not want the prime cause to be aired, the taunting, the torment of a 10 year old girl and the taking and using of her towel and the threat associated. The railway line ends on the other side of the river here, they would not build a bridge to allow entry to the town and they had no intention of extending the line further west, along the river. Where it comes from is interesting, its flat really flat and the line has been built up, on a bank above the plain, for water control perhaps. The line itself is rough, in fact, you would be surprised how bumpy it looks, with dips all along it everywhere and to see the train approaching and it rocking from side to side as it goes in and out of the dips, that is a sight to behold. Chris and I did that trip lots. In fact, it was probably the trip of choice for us, especially on Monday arvos late when the train was due, you would try to get out alongside the line opposite the white bridge on the road, then run down the creek and get under the line there just as the train went over head. Hey, it?s a country town. Chris would scream, and I would call out. We both laughed after that. Some days we didn?t do much, just went to her house while she played the piano, she was very good at that. She made a living out of doing that later, and still does, and has played in quite a few bands, orchestras. Christine situation was similar to mine, or the mirror of it I should say. She is the oldest by about 5 years, then there are her step sisters. She sees her natural father still, a couple of times a year, he has a girlfriend now, he re married after divorcing Chris Mum but he went for a younger girl. Christine talks to me about it, I listen that?s all, she doesn?t want advice, I mean what can you say. If she could murder the girlfriend and get away with it she would, she would to save her Dad she says. I laugh but I?m not sure why. I?m an orphan, no I?m not, an only child then, no not true either but my brother is 9 years older, and my sisters, three, are 2 years older each from that. So the year I started school my sister was finishing the last year then went away to Uni, they all did, to school later then Uni. I was with Mum pretty much, and I didn?t mind. Mum liked Chris, but she did have reservations about her, really Mum liked everybody, I think everybody did like Chris, she had shorter light brown hair which we dyed black one holiday, and it took most of that time for the hair colour to come back and for the stains to leave my hands, should have worn gloves like it said. I worked for the milkman 3 days a week, and Chris was often on the truck with me, organising the next saucepan load. It was bulk on the truck, in a churn, cold, and we took measured pots of milk from there, a quart minimum, with a flip lid on it and I ran through the front gate, jumped the dog, took the money out of the bottom of the saucepan and sluiced in the milk, Chris blew a whistle, and I ran back to the truck again and Arra drove off to the next one. We had cream, glorious yellow cream spun off from the hospital milk, they wanted cream free for the babies and the clinic, and we made a shilling every pint we sold of that, it was cheap and it was nice. Chris and I had a drink of that as we drove around. Just a sip for both of us because it can make you sick sometimes. She bought jubes and we had jubes and cream, which sounds strange but tasted ok. As fast as Arra could drive around safely we did the deliveries. The big buyers were the cafes who used milk in their shakes. They bought the big containers out to the truck, they had iceblocks in the containers and we poured the milk in them, straight out of the master churn, a big 60 gallon I think, stainless steel contraption. Arra measured that, I did the loading, and Arra collected the money, then there was the hospital who took the most milk, some of that was paid for by the Government and the rest was with a cheque and we delivered milk to the kitchen there. Chris continued to do the milk run after I left it, I split my money with her, it was a few shillings only and that was the reason I left really. Chris left town at the end of that year to go to school and to do music at a college and to live with her father. We had a band in town and Chris was in that, as was I, both singing, her playing, and me making noises on the drums sometimes, when the regular drummer was unable to play due to ill health, he was very sick actually, and bass, strung for a left hander, my own, when the regular bass player became a DJ for the gig and really I just did harmonies on the G string and not much else. I started playing a few stanzas in from the start, it was so obvious that I had not a clue, as a parent said about us. But if there was a bit of boogie about it then we were passable, some said. Chris was the best of that though, we played at the school hall, it was records and us, and really we were the music at intermission, some Roy Orbison, a Chuck Berry or 3, Everley Brothers and Buddy Holly. I didn?t have a microphone when on the drums, this may have been a blessing. But we did our best and we passed music at school so that was a bonus. I had footy training twice a week, and Chris had basketball near that. We went together, sat together, and that was the last we saw of each other until after. She waited in the cold for us to finish, all glowing hot and sweaty, and we walked to her house, holding hands, and later we used to kiss at the park before we got there. It was now about 9.00pm and she went inside after saying goodbye at the door, her Mum often invited me in but I had my footy boots around my neck, a towel, mud, grass clippings and I couldn?t sit anywhere because of mud, grass clipping, sweat. So I ran home from there to a shower and then, about 9.30pm Chris would ring and we would talk for 10 minutes or so and it was time for bed. Mum found this perplexing, Mum would say I?ll just check if he is in, Geez Mum you are the controller of little big young me, you know I?m in the house, but yeah, she would ask, do other boys get late night phone calls from their friends, a girl in this case. To which I would say Yes Mum then I don?t know Mum and it?s only Chrissy, you know her. She wanted more info though. The other nights I had work in the wood yard and Chris did music then, piano practice. Friday afternoon and evening was often with Chris, at home or at the pictures but I sometimes had work at the exchange on Friday, and nearly always on Saturday. We sat together, but in a group downstairs at the pictures. Christine surprised me once because really she had never shown much affection, I was often reaching for her, or holding her from behind, just for the basic 22 seconds or less then she moved off. I asked honestly if we would be kissing sometime soon and she started there and then, after the first squirm it got to be ok, and we did that a lot, well when it was expected. Anyway this night at the pictures she cuddled me, I mean, put her head on my chest, put her arms around me, and cuddled me. It was ok, I like that, and it surprised the group, there were no other girls that night with us, but Chris did that together with me from that time on. Working on the exchange means phone calls, from all over the place, sometimes from all over the world although I just patched them through to International Pacific mostly or International Atlantic and the operator took it on from there. Then that operator would ring me to find out who I was, just a chat that?s all. But Chris would ring sometimes at strange hours and we would talk for ages, hours almost, just whispers from her, then to hang up she had to unplug the phone, put the receiver down carefully, then plug the phone in again, that way it doesn?t ring or go ting when it energises. But that was enjoyable, those midnight and later talks, it was always her ringing me, dial 07 for the operator and I would answer then how are ya, then an explanation of how the picture finished, or the second feature ended, who was smoking now, it is impressive how much small talk two teens can make and we did, and strangely we talked longer on the phone than in person, nothing wrong with us is there. It ended when we went away, both of us, her to school and me to footy camp in the holidays and when I came back she was gone as I expected. Nothing even vaguely private had occurred between us, there was kissing, and I knew how to do that, there was long periods of holding and hugging and talking, but the eventuality was known well in advance and we prepared ourselves for that, sounds dramatic but she said lets see how we go at doing our things apart and I agreed, knowing it was finished. Nice friend, honest and true. There had never been a harsh word, an indecision, an argument, once we disagreed over a tennis score but there was a packet of PK at stake here. She never declared me as her boyfriend, rather a friend who is a boy she would say without prompting, he is nice was another of hers, and I did not trumpet her as the one and only, that it was Chris and Me, that was a given really, you saw us everywhere together, me and her, or us, me and the others and Chris. I moved school that year too, she stayed at the Convent and I went to the high school and there was a new bunch to associate with. Tall and thin, she preferred shorts to anything, winter and summer, and she was 96% leg anyway, girls often are, with longish hair at the end, brown, always down and out and if control was necessary it was in an off centre tail, over her left shoulder. She wore bangles on her left wrist and a scapular always except at the pool. She was the first girl of any age to wear a bikini, although her little sisters often only wore their undies but that doesn?t count. The Nuns asked her not to wear the bikini, ever, but to be appropriately attired, so she wore shorts and a t shirt after that. She argued with her mother, and there seemed a lot of exasperation there. I never got that story, she vented on other things but not about her Mum, I suggested it was because her mother was right and she was wrong and Chris said, probably. You got castigated for swearing, she said bloody often, it?s not swearing she said by way of explanation, she tried smoking, she sipped alcohol a couple of times, sherry and beer, and said no thanks after that. She played piano beautifully, well I thought so, and she looked at you when she played, or looked out the window to the side, occasionally she glanced down at the sheet music, always on top, it was a grand style, and never, or hardly ever did she look at her hands, her fingers, as she played. If there was a glance down it was her right hand, then her eye moved to the side of the keyboard, off the keyboard perhaps, she did say that, as if that left ear was the one in use for this piece. She said she learnt the music by repetition, and that the composer was just suggesting where you should be in the melody but after 12,15 or even 20 run throughs she will tell you she knows it. She found a composer she liked, an American, obscure, who had written for guitar mostly and his daughter transcripted that for piano after he died, about 70 songs, tunes, pieces, pianoforte, light opera or music hall music, country melodies, country and western waltz, and a few bar room stompers, full of the art of piano playing, no key left untouched and some of the key board hot from the action. She played, practiced, and if it was not right, she kept the right hand moving and looked for the correct tune in the papers on top, then the tunes joined when she got that right and she played to the break or the bridge, then she might go back to the start and play through. But looking, no, not at you, not at anything particular. Just zoned, the music, the sounds, and then you realised she was probably not looking at you when she was playing because you would move and her head and eyes would move in response, so she might have been somewhere else, over your left shoulder maybe. But competence she had and technique. There was practice everyday, not scales so much, just perhaps a few tests to get the spread right, she had big hands, or big fingers on big hands. There was all the classics, Mum music, a few from the broadway shows, a lot of popular tunes and there was good, really good, tunes in them. Ok, some were a variation on a theme, but most often she was playing anything from the top 10 of the hit parade, the rhythm working and the lead picking out the tune, the words, and me in my tuneless singing would do just that. That?s what we did at her place, no mucking about, we were there, there was a piano there, play the piano, get the designated 2 hours practice out of the way. She was single minded with that too, no teach me to play something requests were granted. No, a lot of sssh, I want to get this down, and she would cycle through a tune several times, many times, and some times a request of ?you have that record doncha, can you get it I want to hear it I can?t get that last part?. I would, I get that 45 and ride back and forth, there were other things to get too, a banana, an eraser because mines at school, water the back garden. She had classes but split with the teacher locally, the teachers days did not correspond with hers, Chrissy, there was a money issue, payments and she bubbled and boiled along doing her own thing for a while until she was given a week each holidays to go to tutoring in Sydney. I believe competency was ok, but you have to play through certain levels, be judged on that, and move and grow with it otherwise no professional organisation will employ. It?s a job, playing an instrument, and there are so few vacancies that you have to be the best and then be nude, or have different hair or piercings, or tattoos and she wanted them, and you had to know the styles, ?, bossa nova, swing, waltz and I don?t know any others but she had to. In effect, her education suffered, these are her words now, she was locked in at 12 year old form and while good at that had not progressed any where from that. It was music, she loved it, and the rest could wait. She didn?t think it was going to be the classics, playing at the opera house, she did popular music there and not some maniac long hair opus with movements that were 11 minutes in duration. No, popular music in a band, never say band but say orchestra, and she could only name three and they had players queueing. Well, start your own, Chrissy and the Slew Foot Five or something. I think that?s been done. She wrote, she did quick tunes with jazz phrasings, repetitive technical pieces that showed her abilities, and stored them on top of the piano hoping that would be the centrepiece in a longer tune. She would not write about love, failed romance, not much of a hetrosexual couple at all, in fact I got ahead of myself, there was a few words, just feelings, descriptive jottings with sentences that changed often, again perhaps the centre piece of a longer tune. Her words, made up on the spot and in league with the music, also made up on the spot, was often about girls, girls and girls, and the intensity of friendship there, the life of them. This would build in her psyche from then to her later life when she did have the real thing, genuine friendship, love and life with a girl. This was secretive at first, the protection of anonymity necessary to maintain their careers but earlier than most, and at last, they came out to their friends and the world and may be accepted as an institution now, Chrissy and her friend. She liked to hold you, and I didn?t mind that, we would peddle somewhere, along the tops of the levee, a track about two vehicles wide then run off down a ramp to a grassy area, our place, amongst the tracks I had made but out of sight, more because of the topography rather than any design or ideas of mine, and I would still be on the bike, and her on hers and she would reach across and encircle you, it?s as if our place was the only place for us, the first thing she did when we got there was a hug, that?s the reason we came here and this is what we were going to do when we got here. The bikes got dumped and we sat against the sloping wall of the levee, the river was a distance away, you could hear and see it, and I had my arm around her shoulders and she encircled me, her legs over mine, and we talked that?s all, important stuff, about how wood delaminates on pianos, how stickers and transfers on bikes don?t last like they used too, about her toes, long toes and fingers, so you can play the piano, what with my bloody toes, crazy boy, about scagi worms, the long thick native worms which were becoming extinct, as thick as your little finger, about kites and how useless are they here, no wind ever this far inland, about the colours of football jumpers and she was an expert because she knew all the combinations and some team over towards Baradine or Barraba had the best, the colours of the country and the sky, a V, the colours extended to the socks, to the team blazers, to the blazers. Another was all green, jumper, shorts, socks and this showed a lack of imagination, another was red and orange, that?s a clash, neither or either, it?s one or the other. Chrissy talked, I listened, I talked, she listened, there was none of the waiting to interrupt, none of the oneupmanship, the oh yeah what about this then. A lot, well, everytime, there was a brief talk about kites, she liked the wind, and had a collection of wind driven machines, whirligigs, eagles, tipping birds, mills, stracers, lots of most things collected or built from diagrams in magazines, library books, aviation books, everything. The no wind factor here was perplexing, if there was a wind she was standing on tippy toes on the top of the levee, arms out, shirt out, cardigan out, catching and feeling it pass her, go round her, under and over. Wind Milly was a proposed nickname for less than 18 seconds, once and once only, apparently she did not approve. None of this solved the lack of wind, and fart jokes meant nothing to her, nothing. We solved that wind conundrum, the railway station and the fuel depot were 1700 yards apart, a big upright holding tank for diesel, and a horizontal tank for petrol, ramps and stages for loading, and over head pipes for filling up 44 gallon drums, the container of choice around here. The train came to the station first and there were fuel carriages on the back of that and the engine separated those and Bracer, the engineers son, arranged for us to ride on the last carriage as it got taken to the depot. Christine and I with Bracer and another were on the last carriage as it moved, moderately paced, towards the depot but it was enough to get the kite airborne and diving and skying as a kite should, Chris doing the controlling, standing on drums, with sooty legs and pants, silver paint chips on her feet, a smile always and her laugh. It was damaged, kite death nearly but we repaired it while the engine went around to hook up to the empty carriages, the open big long ones with sides and on the return to the station it really went kite-like, more out than up, but we made wind for it, for her, and we got filthy, sooty, diesel residue on our feet and legs, arms and clothes. The train slowed, the kite nearly got retrieved, nearly got it on board and it hit the rocks near the rails and got dragged and ripped up, tore up, torn apart. Didn?t matter to Chris, she would make another any time, bamboo sticks and brown paper, this one was bamboo and pink tissue and was nick named ?Non-Chalance? because of it?s unwillingness to be a kite, up until this point in time. Bracers Dad was in on the treat, so it was ok. Best birthday ever she said, the Box Brownie got hot from use I reckon and she had those photos stuck side on on her mirror for a while, her smiling face, her head and shoulders, her arm up holding the string, and the kite in view beyond that, not high but more out than up, need more balance she said, more weight in the tail piece, to hold the nose up a bit. The next one she made was extensively tested on the bike, adding and subtracting balance weight, shifting the string tie on spot, glueing the sticky tape for extra strength and it seemed perfect. We tested it along the levee, her peddling like a maniac, holding with one hand while she zagged and zigged along. Don?t you know it we finished at our spot and the kite got wrapped, and I got cuddled and kissed. She kept the photo but gave me the kite and I had that for years, unflown from a train though, never again. Bracer was crazy, and I did crazy. Twice we went off on the train, the rail motor, it was sitting at the end of the platform, out of the way kind of and we went on board, is that what you do, all aboard, just us and walked the length of the two carriages and got to that end driving compartment, he sat, pulled a lever left, a lever down, there was a hiss, the motor started and in 4 seconds time we moved. His Dad came out of his office and Bracer waved at him, waved back at him I meant, and we trundled, rocked and rolled, and noisily went out to the first wooden bridge, about a mile out, more maybe, and before the road. We stopped there, coasted to a stop then couldn?t change the driving pattern over to the other end. So we put the brakes on and that fixed it. Remember that, in order to reverse direction you have to have the brakes applied, got it. So we could now idle back the other way so we did, giggling like kids, which we were. We did that most of the afternoon, promising not to cross the road which is a no-no somehow, and we didn?t. We actually saw 18 miles an hour sometimes, speed hogs. In the end it was about 2 hours before departure and we stopped where we started, Bracers Dad came on board and re-set everything and the regular staff started and nothing was said. There are no steam trains here, just the relatively lighter rail motors and smaller engines pulling small lines of carriages along the plains, slowly, you can pace them on your pushbike, and if the driver was so inclined he would toot you. How they didn?t tip off the rails with there fast flip flop left and right movement over the bumpy track. There was a stack of coal at the work yard at the station, it was behind a fence, in a barbed wire enclosure with a locked gate and with lights on all day and night, there was a refuelling bowser with a tank to hold the fuel and further along was a turn around T, the train ran up one side, away from the line, they flipped a crossing switch, the train backed down the other side back onto the main line now, and was magically facing the other way as a result, it ran up past the station and the waiting carriages, then backed down the line to hook up to its load, the carriages were swept, the windows cleaned and it sat there waiting for something to happen. Not a lot did though, 4 in trains a week, 6 passengers total, 2 tons of parcel freight, importantly the ice cream came on the train in big rugged up containers with dry ice in them and not a lot of anything much on the way out, my bike once when I sent it off to be repainted, three greens. When Bracers Dad took the train to the T we went with him, it?s a country town as I said. The coal storage was interesting, the gate was open and Bracers Dad was taking barrow loads from there to the station for the office fire. Chrissy picked up and dropped a few pieces and there were imprints of plants, leaves, flattened but you could see them, so we spent a while finding some more, it is a long process, and we got black dust on us, everywhere. We took our three pieces and Bracers Dad put one of those on display, in a glass fronted box on the wall of the waiting room with a light on it so you could easily see the definition of the imprinted leaf. Chrissy took hers to school wrapped in paper and showed us kids and the Nun said what is this Christine, a fossil Sister, a fossil and how do you explain this fossil in relation to the catholic edict of which you are supposed to live your life, and the life of your partner and children Christine. Christine mouth moved a bit and there were no sounds and when she spoke it was not about fossils, Chrissy said I am undecided about a partner, there will be no children, no children I am certain of that Sister and the coal was bought here as an interesting fact, not to be at cross purposes with anything you say or teach us Sister. No children Christine, marriage and children are catholic tenets aren?t they, marriage and children go hand in hand with your future life young lady, remember that. Alright, enough nonsense, children class now. Get rid of that, throw that away please, now. Christine looked at her fossil, looked around, wrapped it up and put it aside. That lovely coal and its leaf is at the high school were years of kids, schooled in the real world, can, and could, and still do wonder about how the leaf got in there. Mine, my coal fossil, we broke into ever smaller pieces and set fire to it in the back yard, disappointing somewhat, and how it boils water for steam in a train must be an act of God, applying the rules of the Nun there. There was no flame, some smoke, minimal heat and I thought it was out but when I looked where we had it, but a day or so later, it had burnt, consumed itself and all that was left was the shape of the coal rocks but as ashes, fine dust, and nothing else. We enjoyed our train rides.We did this again later, another day, but in the evening and Chris was with us as was Bracers friend. Looping back and forth in the dark train, no headlight, no lights anywhere, just a torch in the drivers cabin. Magic. To get above 22 miles an hour involved a different combination of lever positions and Bracer knew these but we didn?t. We stopped at the station again and then Bracers Dad took us for an hours run, with his Mum and the other kids so that was good too. We parked back at the station and Chris and I peddled back into town, no lights and sat on her front verandah and talked for a while. I didn?t tell Mum and Chris didn?t tell her Mum. We said we would have if they asked, specifically what did we do yesterday but nobody did. That?s not wrong, is it? These were great days, sort of day after day of new stuff, with a good friend, or my work for which I got paid, and Chrissy would come over after that and we stayed up until late then I walked her home. Mum stopped that, it resulted in quite a ruckus, from her end, but it was a school night often and there was no socialising much then and certainly bed at 10 but Chris and I had after midnight episodes sometimes, home work, then a piano recital, a demonstration of how a big boy should play the piano, not how he did, a milo, a goodbye and a peddle home in the dark, down the lanes, away from the black Mariah who would seize your bike. Mum said no, and she rarely said no, so I said yes to her no and told Chris and she was accepting. Chris and her Mum were friends most times and there was not a lot of connection between Chrissy and the young ones, not hatred or despisement, just a non-interest from Chris. Mums motives were that we, Chrissy and me, would move onto a physical relationship too young, it was patently obvious to Mum, and while she wasn?t over protective of me, she might have had more concern for Chris, Mum said that. Mum could see the situation developing. We, Chris and me, had not planned anything, for like a birthday, or the parent disappearing for a day and a night, like mine did from time to time and I was alone in the big creaking house, eating cheese for every meal. Mum could see a situation, lets leave it at that. Saved, thanks Mum. That Mum intervention, that?s what it was spoilt a plan for Chrissy and me, we both liked the river and we had plans to go rafting on it, build a raft, a platform which floated, maybe 44 gallon drums and a frame work, with a hut on top. All contingencies were dealt with as there was to be a toilet hole in the deck, undercover, and bedrolls in there, undercover, cooking on a piece of steel with wood, branches from the river bank, water was not a problem, food capacity might be, although somebody suggested fish. Have you ever tasted fresh water river fish, I?d rather starve, although my stand point has never been tested. Yes so we would build the frame, the drum bit, then put up a framework for the hut, with the door facing forwards because that seemed to be where the door should be, an area to walk around on, and not tip the thing over or be out of balance, and to have a long oar steering point on the back end, a spare oar, a transistor radio useless during the day, adora cream wafers, a .22? rifle, 400 dollars, some board games, some rope, some more rope. What happened was nothing. Hannas would help build the frame and come with us for the first week, from up above Collarenebri to home, then Chris and me for the remainder, others were invited but school holidays in the city seemed more exciting than a stinking hot raft on a stinking hot day. The drums were procured, from the dairy, good condition diesel 44?s with their bungs screwed in, 15 of, as was the flat steel for the framework for $10, the rusty remains of a one time shed that never got carted off to the tip and Hannas started measuring and planning. Chris did the plans, drew what she saw as required, a hut about 5 feet high, with a rug over the floorboards, minimal and just sufficient to hold the rug above the water otherwise the deck was bare timber, with gaps between. There was a canvas tent to go over the frame, a yellow one, yellow tinged really. We asked the River Commission for some maps, why and we said, and they said no, no rafts, certainly no rafts made from stinky diesel drums, and we said we intended to return the drums to their owner and they were in good condition. We got the maps, but did not get permission to raft anywhere, yet. We had put in a good solid fortnight on procuring and preliminary building and if there was something good to come out of this it was that I bought a vehicle, to transport stuff to Hannas, who had a shed where all this top secret boat building was going on. The purchase and procurement of the ute will be dealt with soon, it was a process of elimination. I think you can guess that we didn?t go rafting, in the 4th week mother got a whiff of what was going on, of the involvement of Chrissy and me, and Hannas ? his name really and this led to a discussion in our kitchen, Chris sipping her tea, me my milo, and Mum asking what?s going on and we told her. No. That was pretty much the end of my Huck Finn planned adventures. I never read those books, we didn?t do them at catholic school. Chris accepted that too and she went home and told her mother what she had planned to do. Hannas did build the raft, using goods he found himself, my steel, the drums got returned as we said, and the vehicle ownership matter flared large and loud. My folks saw it as a breach of trust in that I would purchase something without confiding in them, without allowing them to be involved, and it might be a bomb, a wreck and it might kill you, or hurt or maim you, or put you in jail for using it, driving, and you might hurt somebody else, you might kill them even, or hit a sheep or a cow or a dog and be responsible. I kept the vehicle and Mum drove it mostly, it was a Ford Pilot utility, a factory conversion from a sedan, with a v8 motor. We used the ute and Hannas Dads trailer to get his raft to the river, we went up the Cryon road a while to a property that had a boat landing on a rock base into the river, although here we were on the Pian Creek, a tributary and we back it in and it floated straight off and Hannas tied it up. It was bouncy I guess, the buoyancy wasn?t quite right, there was plenty of it but Hannas was going to put an outrigger drum on either side just to buoy it a little more. The raft had a leanto on it, a roof only affair, no walls, boards to walk on, not all boarded and the obligatory toilet hole. Hannas was going to pole the raft downstream to town and tie it up on the other side, in a back creek which had water all the time. It took him most of the day, there not being a lot of current in the creek but when he hit the river the little craft zoomed along, well with the current. The outrigger would be tied on there, tied and sparred. Chris and I were waiting in the ute when he arrived. Next day, in the afternoon after school we went back to the raft to find it tipped up. It could not have got into that position by itself and it was thought that some of the locals had found it while we were at school and not being able to free it from its chain and padlock had set about to destroy it. They did. We righted it, Hannas was affected, he was nearly in tears. We freed it and commenced to pole it upstream, back to the loading ramp, Hannas and me on the raft and Chris in the ute using the fishing tracks on the other side. It took three days to move it up there after school but we couldn?t do it every day, we had jobs, the printery for me, then the wood yard on Saturday, milk deliveries for Chrissy and the fruit and vege shop for Hannas, his parents business. We did though, we got it there and out of the river and took it back again to Hannas shed, where it sat for many years, outside getting rusty. Chris and I talked a bit about that, that trip that wasn?t. We didn?t go opal hunting, we didn?t go on the train trip to Sydney and come back on the plane, we didn?t go down to the marshes to go bird counting, we didn?t go to the rock concert in Moree, another train trip missed. We didn?t go on the footy trips to the three towns, the bus out and back and lodging with families there, I went but Chrissy didn?t, she was going to run the water and help with the team uniform despatching but somebodys nephew got that job, got pissed and did nothing. We didn?t go camping and shooting overnight, her with her new camera and the flash bulb that stuck up on top. We didn?t walk and camp the creeks, the five creeks that surround the town and you walk in the beds of them and climb up the banks every so often to find your self in somebodys paddock or at the back of somebodys old house and all the while you are below the level of the plain surrounding you for miles and miles. Like trenches in warfare was her first words when she saw and tried them. We did drive the ute, Chrissy did a lot of that, out to the common, a paddock south of town, then on the track there, and the track got better, softer, with our tyres making the dust. Then we parked it at Hannas, as agreed and walked to her place and I went home. We kissed of course, we fooled around a little but not a lot. Chris said we never went anywhere much were we would be alone, you and me, nothing overnight, you know, she said. I knew, and we never did. The assertion of the Nun, the decreed you are a girl, babies are in your life as a result, Chris talked about that sometimes. You know she said, I?m not sure now if I want a husband, I don?t , no, and I don?t want kids, I can have kids without a husband, I can have different fathers, Geez wouldn?t that cause a stir. What a tramp. But no, no husband, no father, but you. I said, you only like me because I?m here. Spot on, and then we got interrupted by the dog and a creek rat, and didn?t get back to it. Chris had a dog, Mouse, and he refused to leave home. It?s a given that her and me were always out and about, miles out some days and she had taught him, showed him, invited him to ride on her bike in the yard at her place, his front paws on the handlebars and his backside and back legs on her lap. He enjoyed that, he ran beside her then jumped up to be carried when invited. If you put him up there then left the yard he jumped off again, and trotted back through the gate, had a drink at the leaking rainwater tank and sat on the rear veranda near the laundry, avoiding eye contact with you. He slept on her bed, he got between her and me on the lounge, sat there, wiggled in until he was wedged then looked at me, expecting a pat which he got in copious applications. He ate their food, meaning what was cooked for them he ate, so it was a serving for him, and one for evey one else. He sat across the door way when she played the piano, strictly I was practice, regimented tasks leading to improvement. Where he lay, or sat, you had to step over him to enter or leave, but he was a piano loving dog, no doubt about it. Chris played the piano on the stage in the auditorium at school, it was a good one, not the grand style at home, but the mechanic for the school piano did hers as well. He travelled all day to get to our town and he worked on the school instrument in the afternoon, single tink, tink, tink-tink for each key while he slackened then tightened the mechanism. He had a device, an oscilloscope that heard the key sound and showed if it was involved in the present tuning. The tuning of one was different to the other, Chris piano was set for single room, a gentler tuning, and the school piano was set for the auditorium. Hers was a Knabe, a full size, the piano at school was a baby, a Steinway no less, apparently they are good, she said. I could tell the difference between the two. Most days until 4.00pm she played the school instrument, did the concerts, the assemblies, the anthem, and strangely she was approachable then, joking, saying listen to this, whats that Animals record. At home, well it was better to be elsewhere for those couple of hours, you could listen and watch, you could move between brackets, otherwise no to talking, moving, coughing, any body function involving the emission of gas, which includes breathing out it seems, or yawning. No. Stay away and come back after tea, or after 5.00pm and stay for tea. Chris went down to the courts sometimes to practice her baskets, she was the goalie most times and I went there to catch and return the ball. I went there really to be in the company, the hearing, the sight, the sound of my friend. Some older boys made a situation unbearable, their sex salted talk just too much and Chris went to leave. One boy snatched the ball from her and I snatched it back. I think he realised I was stronger, taller, more protective than he thought and he moved off. His friend was in my training team at footy and he said sorry to Chris and nodded to me. The other boy was sullen and said nothing, did nothing, except he threw a brick that landed nowhere near us, but it shattered on the road. Chris asked me to keep riding on, away, but no, I saw him throw it and he can?t, shouldn?t do that. He was in the process of leaving and made a great show of not being implicated, not admitting to throwing but I saw him, Chris did too. It came down to name calling by him of us and when I got close he backed off and away, saying what, what, so away he went, muttering but what he did was unsettling, not necessary, he was jealous it seemed almost, upset that two kids could be in company with each other and his role was to make trouble. It affected me, can?t you tell. I rode back to Chris and she was crying, sobbing. I don?t like fights, there was none, I don?t like confrontation, there was some, there was three of them and there was you, and no matter how I said it it didn?t seem to matter. So I held her as we walked home, the long way, pushing the bikes, her leaning on me in the dark. She got better, she did, she was good by the time we got home but she was frightened, frightened of that which had happened. She was upset at what had been said by the sullen one, it was not nice, not true, and concerned sexual relations between us, Chrissy and me. As I said, jealous, incapable of having a relationship, doesn?t know how to behave, doesn?t know right from wrong, has never been shown, never been lead in the right direction. Yeah, it affected me for a while. I left the catholic junior high school early in the year that she left to go to her Dad to go to the music college there. Roller skating became big and I never did it, never tried it, pleased I didn?t because Sellsy broke his arm, but strangely almost every other kid in town was on skates after school, except us, Chris and her sisters and me. There was no TV, it did come eventually, snowy furtive images and a man talking about Australia and wishing he was English. On Saturday I went to golf with Mum and Dad often, Christine had music in the morning and recital in the afternoon, when a few students did do that as well. Music was important to her, she could read and write it, play it and liked it, another language which she spoke fluently. In the evening we met if we could or I worked and we spoke on the phone as I said. The group broke up, some what dramatically, and I was away when that happened. Hannas girlfriend got friendly with Sellsy, and then Sellsy girlfriend took up with somebody else, an older boy, like 6 years older or so. Hannas got annoyed about all of this, he had been the Mr Fixit for all of us for such a long time, punctures, welding, use of motorcycle of which he had three, records, cards, books, magazines, those sorts of magazines, homework. Sellsy was a good footy player, really good in the centres, one of three from school, I was too, playing in the town team, easybeat at tennis, and a swimmer superb. He did fall out of love easily though, he had two girls to my none, and this episode saw him solo for only a short while. Sellsy left and stayed away, we saw him in town often but he didn?t talk much, well he talked to me and he asked about the others but he didn?t talk to them is what I meant. The friendly girlfriend moved on and while this is not the logical mid point in her involvement she fell pregnant to one of the guys working on the golf course, building it. There was no embarrassment, she had the child and kept it and reared it. Strange words aren?t they, but the generalisation back then was the opposite of all of that, secrecy, a quiet pregnancy and birth, the baby given over for adoption, and the girl returning to her hometown, with her reputation intact. Sad, and better that our society have grown up and away from that. I mean she wasn?t raped she said, he is a lovely man with soft eyes, and it wasn?t as if she was a virgin, and that really summed up how we spoke, her and me. Mum was amused to come home one afternoon to find me and her drinking tea, tea, on the benches around the cypress pine in the back yard with the baby with her, and she, Mum, ignored me, and her, and talked to the baby and then had to have a hold and a cuddle, all the while in possession of a custard roll, with cream in the fridge, cross purposes there somewhere, don?t you think. I was on holidays from school then. But we spoke more, that girl and me, and she took up with the father which was good, that it didn?t last was more a result of their age, hers in particular. The baby came home to granny and the girl moved on and away. A Mum, a single Mum and then single at 18 years, a little older than me. After Chrissy left town to go to her Dad and a proper school, I left the Nuns secondary school to go to high school, I was a bad student by any test except I had brains and no connection with catholic religion based teachings, at all. I was a cynic I thought, a smarty said some, I was too big for my boots to use the correct clich?, Dad saw this and I was moved. Thank God, which is so against everything I didn?t believe in. I came second in my first, shortened year, at that new school and I became friends with the boy who beat me, a natural brain, so easy for him. He did crosswords at lunchtime and raced the teachers at that. Well, I was impressed. He had been in the band also, this was now defunct, if it was ever functioning, but there was fun in music, in rhythms and beats, syncopated noise was interesting and he had a drum kit, actually he had the works, amplifier, equaliser, guitars, bass, electric, and two really good guitars, well made. He could read music, he could talk languages, he was good at jigsaws, he was good at crosswords and he knew things, he knew history, Australian history. Us students had a version of the war that was permitted to be taught, not him, he researched and read, researched and asked, and he got the background, he got all the answers. Then he kept this information to himself. He told you what he knew if you asked, just the facts appertaining to the question, and no more. That last year at the convent school high school I struck up a friendship with D, the oldest girl of several children, 13 in all, boys and girls. She was going away to school next year and I was progressing onto the new high school for a year. D was great, a touchy feely type, my type and there is plenty written about her already, her and me. But before all of this she spoke, complained, of having to do the shopping, some of it, for her family, just her and not the built in army of sibling helpers she had. I was between jobs then, between brushing and bagging spuds at Johnsuns and working at the printing works, my afternoons were taken up normally but this day I said, magnamously, stop at my house and I?ll go shopping with you. She did, knocked on the door and waited, but not for long, I was hoping she would and she did, and off we strolled, I lived in the Main Street anyway. D kept strictly to the list, there was no money exchange all booked up and in 20 minutes she was done, an impossible amount to carrying on her own and she says, well I do, all this and more sometimes, two trips, one to the bakery, go back and get the rest, take that straight home, go back to the bakery and collect what she left and go home. No so much the weight but the volume, not helped because there were 4 loaves of bread as well, hence the bakery depot. But that is a different story, may be next time Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Wed Jan 10 10:34:23 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Wed, 10 Jan 2018 10:34:23 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. Message-ID: <002901d389a2$651af890$2f50e9b0$@com.au> Tasmania MBL has been in place for ages. Centrebet refused this bet, to win just $135 at 9:05am today. cid:image001.png at 01D389F3.53AEA8D0 Their reply to my query was: ".. this was due to senior management's discretion". So, complaint to Racing Tasmania, and see if they back the wronged punter (as does Racing Victoria) or the rogue "bookmaker" (as does Racing NSW). FFS, they won't risk $135 and are willing to break the law to avoid doing so. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.png Type: image/png Size: 31825 bytes Desc: not available URL: From phil at buckland.id.au Wed Jan 10 12:14:13 2018 From: phil at buckland.id.au (Phil Buckland) Date: Wed, 10 Jan 2018 11:14:13 +1000 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. In-Reply-To: <002901d389a2$651af890$2f50e9b0$@com.au> References: <002901d389a2$651af890$2f50e9b0$@com.au> Message-ID: <007501d389b0$5511ddc0$ff359940$@buckland.id.au> I would be interested to see the response of this one from Racing Tasmania Phil From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 9:34 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. Tasmania MBL has been in place for ages. Centrebet refused this bet, to win just $135 at 9:05am today. cid:image001.png at 01D389F3.53AEA8D0 Their reply to my query was: ".. this was due to senior management's discretion". So, complaint to Racing Tasmania, and see if they back the wronged punter (as does Racing Victoria) or the rogue "bookmaker" (as does Racing NSW). FFS, they won't risk $135 and are willing to break the law to avoid doing so. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.png Type: image/png Size: 31825 bytes Desc: not available URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Thu Jan 11 14:44:20 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Thu, 11 Jan 2018 14:44:20 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. In-Reply-To: <007501d389b0$5511ddc0$ff359940$@buckland.id.au> References: <002901d389a2$651af890$2f50e9b0$@com.au> <007501d389b0$5511ddc0$ff359940$@buckland.id.au> Message-ID: <003f01d38a8e$7a723310$6f569930$@com.au> Hmmm, I need to do more checking and less assuming (I put it down to having passed Psalm 90's quota) - unlike the other states, the Tas MBL only applies to Win bets. So, Centrebet acted legally, but it's still pathetic to refuse bets of $135/100. I'll try a Win bet on Hobart 5/1 tomorrow. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Phil Buckland Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 12:14 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. I would be interested to see the response of this one from Racing Tasmania Phil From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 9:34 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. Tasmania MBL has been in place for ages. Centrebet refused this bet, to win just $135 at 9:05am today. cid:image001.png at 01D389F3.53AEA8D0 Their reply to my query was: ".. this was due to senior management's discretion". So, complaint to Racing Tasmania, and see if they back the wronged punter (as does Racing Victoria) or the rogue "bookmaker" (as does Racing NSW). FFS, they won't risk $135 and are willing to break the law to avoid doing so. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.png Type: image/png Size: 31825 bytes Desc: not available URL: From prince_of_perth at hotmail.com Mon Jan 15 02:08:45 2018 From: prince_of_perth at hotmail.com (Scott C) Date: Sun, 14 Jan 2018 15:08:45 +0000 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" In-Reply-To: <00db01d385cf$3a3d59a0$aeb80ce0$@com.au> Message-ID: BetZero :-) That's how much I've bet on Victorian Racing over the last 10 years...Zero!!! What a disgraceful racing territory. You just have to wonder how much that lying chief steward has covered up over the years. Laying to lose seems like the only option in that poor dirty territory. What a shame the truth never came out about that dead Japanese horse after the Cup a few years back. BetZero...you can say that again ? On 5 Jan 2018 10:45 AM, "L.B.Loveday" wrote: Boy, did I f that up - I mixed up my Time Zones, and bet 2 minutes before the AEST deadline! Apologies to BetZero! From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Friday, 5 January 2018 1:41 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Today BetZero and Sportsbet contravened the Qld MBL which came into effect on 1Jan, by refusing bets on Sunshine Coast. Sportsbet claimed "a glitch"; sure, the "glitch" is, just as they did with Tasmania, they don't adjust your settings unless you complain - I did, they adjusted. I'm yet to get a reply from BetZero, so tomorrow will fill out the Qld Racing complaint form. Here's my letter to BetZero: At 9:58am you refused the following bet: [cid:image002.jpg at 01D3860D.433D3D20] Bet Max was $0.00, viz you refused to take the bet for any amount. The race was scheduled for 16:05 AEST, and the first race of the meeting for 15:27 AEST. MBL has been in place since 1/1/2018, and the relevant section is: Minimum Bet Limits apply: ? to Queensland Thoroughbred races only; ? to fixed odds bets (i.e. win, place and each way bets); ? from 9am (AEST) on the day of the Thoroughbred race, for a race meeting commencing prior to 5:30pm; and ? from 2pm (AEST) on the day of the Thoroughbred race, for a race meeting commencing after 5:30pm. It is disappointing, but not surprising, that you fail to meet your legal obligations, again. They're all pretty pathetic Len with a few exceptions. You're probably getting limited because you're on the list of winning punters they share. I know you hate laying, but to continue without just about everybody closing you down completely (or effectively) eventually, you have to lay off any winnings on the exchange at BFSP. You have to look on paper like a mug not a winner. Then you'll get offers galore and they'll take you on for mostly the full amount. It's really the only way around it, especially with Luxbet closed down and no access to UK based bookies. What makes me laugh is Racing.com where, they quote thousands of dollars being invested by in their own words "some very savvy punters". You think those very savvy punters were able to get on for those amounts, it's all smoke and mirrors! Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Monday, 1 January 2018 8:53 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Looks like the new kid on the Dynamic Odds block is issuing a challenge to them - I opened an account for $1,000 with SportsBetting a few days ago, have had 4 $100 or less bets, and today asked for $100 @ 3.50 place Inv 7/11. Accepted $36.72. Pathetic enough, but immediately turned down to 2.70 (Win price untouched, so it's not like they had a flood of bets, most likely just my bet to lose $91.80). I think you should write "bookmaker", to distinguish these feeble critters from on-course bookmakers, the weakest of whom has x times the guts and y times the ability that they do. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Race Stats Sent: Sunday, 31 December 2017 12:02 AM To: AusRace Racing Discussion List Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" CentreBet and ClassicBet are the worst Len. You'd think they'd want to even their books a little because most of the action takes place on the favourite or firmers in the market. But that's never the case, their little servers and databases refer your bet to a bookmaker who rejects simply on liability, probably because you're a winning punter, but not necessarily so. Lindsay. From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Saturday, 30 December 2017 12:38 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" Yes, sure you will CentreBet. I asked for $100 Randwick 1/5 @ 126.00, knocked back to $16, which is their right. CentreBet treated me with well-deserved distain and lengthened it to 151.00, obviously wanting to hold more money than my $16, so I asked for $100 at 151.00. Rejected in full, which is again their right, but why drift it if they won't take even 50c at that price? "Pathetic" does not do them justice. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: ________________________________ * Previous message (by thread): [AusRace] "We'll Bet You" * Messages sorted by: [ date ] [ thread ] [ subject ] [ author ] -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Wed Jan 17 11:11:39 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2018 11:11:39 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] Today's Joke Message-ID: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> Asked for $100 @ 5.00 Place Laun 3/6 from SportsBetting, outside MBL hours, so they don't have to bet anything. But they did - they took $98.63 to lose $394.52. $394.52 instead of the round, typical MBL, $400! I understand it's a computer program, but what goose wrote it? And who would pay him/her - I would not feed her/him. I got my computing degree 50 (no typo) years ago, so my whiz-kid days are behind me, but on my worse day I could still write better code than that, with my left hand while watching the sunset and drinking red with my right hand. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seanmac4321 at gmail.com Wed Jan 17 12:22:28 2018 From: seanmac4321 at gmail.com (sean mclaren) Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2018 11:22:28 +1000 Subject: [AusRace] Today's Joke In-Reply-To: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> References: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> Message-ID: Sorry len but I would be holding the bottle in my left....to keep the cheap drunks from swapping of course! As the saying goes, old habits die hard lol On 17 Jan 2018 10:12, "L.B.Loveday" wrote: > Asked for $100 @ 5.00 Place Laun 3/6 from SportsBetting, outside MBL > hours, so they don't have to bet anything. But they did - they took $98.63 > to lose $394.52. $394.52 instead of the round, typical MBL, $400! > > > > I understand it's a computer program, but what goose wrote it? And who > would pay him/her - I would not feed her/him. I got my computing degree 50 > (no typo) years ago, so my whiz-kid days are behind me, but on my worse day > I could still write better code than that, with my left hand while watching > the sunset and drinking red with my right hand. > > _______________________________________________ > Racing mailing list > Racing at ausrace.com > http://ausrace.com/mailman/listinfo/racing_ausrace.com > > -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seanmac4321 at gmail.com Wed Jan 17 12:24:54 2018 From: seanmac4321 at gmail.com (sean mclaren) Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2018 11:24:54 +1000 Subject: [AusRace] Today's Joke In-Reply-To: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> References: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> Message-ID: And you got the colour right.... Not bad for a whizz kid.... Oooops I mean very old guy? On 17 Jan 2018 10:12, "L.B.Loveday" wrote: > Asked for $100 @ 5.00 Place Laun 3/6 from SportsBetting, outside MBL > hours, so they don't have to bet anything. But they did - they took $98.63 > to lose $394.52. $394.52 instead of the round, typical MBL, $400! > > > > I understand it's a computer program, but what goose wrote it? And who > would pay him/her - I would not feed her/him. I got my computing degree 50 > (no typo) years ago, so my whiz-kid days are behind me, but on my worse day > I could still write better code than that, with my left hand while watching > the sunset and drinking red with my right hand. > > _______________________________________________ > Racing mailing list > Racing at ausrace.com > http://ausrace.com/mailman/listinfo/racing_ausrace.com > > -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From seanmac4321 at gmail.com Wed Jan 17 12:54:48 2018 From: seanmac4321 at gmail.com (sean mclaren) Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2018 11:54:48 +1000 Subject: [AusRace] Today's Joke In-Reply-To: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> References: <004a01d38f27$c02eb7a0$408c26e0$@com.au> Message-ID: The term goose used in that context, I've not heard for a very very long time ..... Australian slang is a dying art I'm afraid. I am convinced we will be "booing" Santa Claus before long. On 17 Jan 2018 10:12, "L.B.Loveday" wrote: > Asked for $100 @ 5.00 Place Laun 3/6 from SportsBetting, outside MBL > hours, so they don't have to bet anything. But they did - they took $98.63 > to lose $394.52. $394.52 instead of the round, typical MBL, $400! > > > > I understand it's a computer program, but what goose wrote it? And who > would pay him/her - I would not feed her/him. I got my computing degree 50 > (no typo) years ago, so my whiz-kid days are behind me, but on my worse day > I could still write better code than that, with my left hand while watching > the sunset and drinking red with my right hand. > > _______________________________________________ > Racing mailing list > Racing at ausrace.com > http://ausrace.com/mailman/listinfo/racing_ausrace.com > > -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From punter at internode.on.net Wed Jan 17 13:09:11 2018 From: punter at internode.on.net (PhilM) Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2018 12:39:11 +1030 Subject: [AusRace] Betfair and South Aussie customers... In-Reply-To: Message-ID: ? Just came up on my screen. The final nail in the coffin for me! ...... Betfair wishes to advise of a change to the Betfair Terms and Conditions which will affect customers who are South Australian residents. In response to the South Australian State Government?s introduction of a Point of Consumption (POC) tax on the wagering activity of South Australian residents, Betfair customers who reside in South Australia will no longer accrue Betfair Points as of Monday, 23rd October 2017. Those customers who are South Australian residents and have accrued Betfair Points prior to Monday 23rd October 2017 will be subject to the standard weekly decay (15% reduction in Betfair Points per week) after this date. This means that once weekly decay reduces a South Australian customer?s Betfair Points to below 1,000 points, they will no longer be eligible for a Discount Rate on commission. This change only applies to South Australian residents. Betfair encourages any customer who has moved from South Australia, and is yet to update their address in the My Account section to do so. Simply log in at?www.betfair.com.au [1], head to My Account, and select My Details in the Account Details drop down menu. The Betfair ANZ Team Links: ------ [1] http://www.betfair.com.au/ -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From punter at internode.on.net Wed Jan 17 13:13:36 2018 From: punter at internode.on.net (PhilM) Date: Wed, 17 Jan 2018 12:43:36 +1030 Subject: [AusRace] Betfair and South Aussie customers... In-Reply-To: Message-ID: <5cd43d9428106dd0f7825e054e222d596b5473f0@webmail.internode.on.net> ?As I've been off the racing scene for months perhaps that's why I'm a latecomer to this news. My BF commission on all back and lay bets is now 10% on all NSW racing and 6% in SA Vic Qld! They are doing their utmost to kill the golden goose imo. Phil M ----- Original Message ----- From: "PhilM" To:"AusRace Racing Discussion List" Cc: Sent:Wed, 17 Jan 2018 12:39:11 +1030 Subject:Betfair and South Aussie customers... ? Just came up on my screen. The final nail in the coffin for me! ...... Betfair wishes to advise of a change to the Betfair Terms and Conditions which will affect customers who are South Australian residents. In response to the South Australian State Government?s introduction of a Point of Consumption (POC) tax on the wagering activity of South Australian residents, Betfair customers who reside in South Australia will no longer accrue Betfair Points as of Monday, 23rd October 2017. Those customers who are South Australian residents and have accrued Betfair Points prior to Monday 23rd October 2017 will be subject to the standard weekly decay (15% reduction in Betfair Points per week) after this date. This means that once weekly decay reduces a South Australian customer?s Betfair Points to below 1,000 points, they will no longer be eligible for a Discount Rate on commission. This change only applies to South Australian residents. Betfair encourages any customer who has moved from South Australia, and is yet to update their address in the My Account section to do so. Simply log in at?wwwbetfair.com.au [1], head to My Account, and select My Details in the Account Details drop down menu. The Betfair ANZ Team Links: ------ [1] http://www.betfair.com.au/ -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Fri Jan 19 02:30:12 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2018 23:30:12 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] Pasher - 6th Coonamble Races 1963 with Sophia and Chrissy Message-ID: <000001d39071$3c4cb2c0$b4e61840$@bigpond.com> Long, but there is racing here, some more of Chrissy and a lot about Sophia, her family horses, and Pansy her Dad and importantly Baroness Mum Sophia Maria Anastasia Loretta was entitled, she thinks, her Mum was one of the landed gentry from Somerset, via Gulargambone, Merrigal and Dragon Cowal and her family, Mum's mob, were very keen for her to accept the peerage, or whatever it was, so that their social aspirations could get a kick along. It affected your passport only these days, there was no money or land granted, there was an ability to address yourself, or announce yourself as somebody of somewhere and really, in the UK those were everywhere. Baroness Mum (let's call her that) was hesitant however, she may have to renounce her citizenship here and become one of them and besides there were two properties in south Queensland, cattle and sheep, 3 in NSW, sheep, one of those the neighbour of a world famous sheep stud, so the location was spic, and times were tough in the sheep trade, lambs were hardly encouraged, and wool was badly promoted, being badly aimed. There were 7 shops, or their buildings because some shops were vacant, being repainted, one re-roofed after the veranda was removed, one of those was a hardware store, their go to bulk depot for items at buy in prices plus 1.7%. There had been two pubs, but they sold one, the ready seller to pay the way for the rest, and the other retained, her Aunty was formerly a guest at the sold place and was now a guest pest at the remaining place, which is making them money, what with the dole and everything. There were 18 year old tractors, 22 year old Land Rovers, a Chrysler Royal with button gear change on the dash, three Commers, an Albion, and an Autocar and a work force of 29. Dad had a plane, all those places had a strip, and Soph has done 100 hours and a lot more, unofficial, while Dad wrestled with the cheque book and papers, over there on the other front seat, her and her Victor Hotel, papa papa something. It was on auto-pilot, but I was the look out and that means somethink, Dad said, Soph said. Sophia and her sister were leaving to go to school in Somerset, King's Hall she was hoping, but first to be tutored, to have their entitlement explained because it was the peerage of a foreign country, to her, me, and while the mother understood the machinations of it all there was indecision still. Her acceptance would mean the entitlement would pass to Soapy in due course, you had to do some time at the tiller though, live in the District and continue to contribute as the forebears had done to get the thing way back. It was for service to agriculture, helping the farmers of yore, introducing a shorter rotation over a smaller space, a French or Belgium trick transferred to green Somerset, more stock, more manure, and that manure over a smaller area, the stuff of dreams. There is a farm there, in Somerset, a sizeable holding by comparison, with stone wall fences, stone cottages, a lake and another in a quarry, sheep, it had been a stud but the government stud monopolised that angle, and they fatten lambs, and store sheep for wool, an Australian ex pat does the shearing and classing, there is a village on the corner of the block and a small RAF field nearby. It was much bigger, back in the day of top hats and horse and hounds but they kept the core, the south east facing downs and sold the rocky saddles and the peaty valley bottoms to their staff as they asked, now those small plots have changed hands many times perhaps and the manor remains, with the family ensconced. Foxes, and badgers, are troublesome and their man manages them, specifically how is not known to Soph, but she closes one eye, makes a trigger finger with one hand and holds an imaginary stock with the other and goes BANG. The manager and staff run that, and when they visit they live up the road a bit, the M5 at Weston-Super-Mare where her dad played football rather than do his degree at the Agricultural University and its where the adults met, in the pig barn. They had race horses, 12 of, and had success on the country circuit and occasionally in Sydney, in fact they had a good record there, the family trainer moved in with an on course trainer at Rosehill and they planned a few lead up runs, and a few tactics, to get the horses in competitive races. Mum and Dad flew to Sydney and went to the races, Sophia and her sister went too, not every time but, and if it was more than two nights away, almost never, they stayed on the place with Anne Gallagher, the accountant, played tennis, and drove trucks, one each. Sophia father had been a good footballer, he played for Australia, and was playing for my team, the Thirds, but hoping for a promotion he said. He never came to training, except sometimes a Saturday morning run and talk about tomorrows encounter, somewhere, against paid players often. Our town did not have school teams, there was not enough boys at school, there was enough boys but some didn't go to school, but they played in the town team and that was my association with them, playing, because training was an option also, and there was basketball one of those nights. The father was a break away and I was his prop, loose head, and over a year and a bit we worked a plan, he would snare and I would tackle, stop the ball movement there and the next would come in, two by two, one of those the lock and we would regain possession and the ball went through hands to the backline, and the permutations from there are endless. He stopped playing, sometime after I left the team to work away, but it was because he was the managing director of a multi-million dollar company, and a broken neck or something less, would hinder him. He played in the Firsts again at the end, if he came to training one of two nights at least, that's the association rules, meant to stop the buying in of talent and it was his A game when he did. The races. Sophia asked me and Chrissy to go with her to the races at Coonamble, their stable is in a town near there. We went in the plane, there are 4 seats, and six of us, just enough room, we skimmed over the paddocks a couple of hundred feet up and the trainer was waiting when we landed. The three adults and Sophs sister went off in the first ride and they would return for us. They didn't, so with the taxi going and coming we got a taxi and as we were under 16 years entry was free. They had three horses entered, a five year old maiden horse, a 6 year old mare who was too busy to stand still for a stallion, a dead set nut case, and Pasher, the stable name for a giant who liked to kiss you, smooch on your hair while you gave him a love. These three were in the care of one strapper, Stroppy, but Rhonda to me and the others, a red head, tall and in love with horses, like people personify dogs, calling them baby, themselves mummy, going with uh, uh naughty boy, well Rhonda and her horse were like that, personal, one on one. The trainer didn't interfere, the feed revved the horses up, they were as fit as hands can make them, the jockey was the same for all three. The trainer had other horses entered today as well, owned by other persons. The mare ran and won, $270 prizemoney, this was Rhondas back pay from the trainer, the trainer and Rhonda may have had a little on the winner, they were laughing, him and Rhonda as the next horse was prepared, the stallion who was placid in the stalls but revved up going to the mounting yard so was bought back and taken through the process of untying and leading, then doing up the saddle straps and he was unaffected by all of this. Rhonda said to me could I put a bet on for her, and she gave me 4 20 pound notes. He was an Improver in a Handicap, and while I understand that now, it was poetry of the turf to me then, so I walked up the side of the bookie ring, along the back and I was looking for a face, anybody to assist junior here and I stepped forward to appear in the ring with a semi-circle of spruiking men on my left, and a three on my right. What do you fancy, board odds. I said I'm looking for somebody to put a bet on with, not for me but. The voice said, Funny we do bets, what would you like. 80 pounds on the fifth horse please. It wasn't favourite, it was 5/1, there were two others shorter, and my bet caused the big man to lean forward and around to eye me off, sure, write it up. So they called it and wrote it and I got the cardboard thingy after they counted the dosh. There was some small talk, the bagman and me, there was not a lot of betting going on. The usual prying of how are you connected, it raced at Boomi last time, only one to finish, he's been around a while, about time he buggered off to stud. So I said I was with the owner daughter and the strapper asked me to bet for her. I told him the trainer name, and in the same instant, there was a kerfuffle on the other side, money was arriving for our fellow. I looked and took it all in, I felt alive really, I was smoking too so that put some adult output into everything I had done. It won, it started a few points longer though and Rhonda said good mate, good on you, no, happy with the win, any odds is good odds for that. I gave her the ticket. We waited while the after race stuff went on and the horse was settled. Soph, Chrissy and Me got photographed with the horse, who is really handsome and we held the big guy while Rhonda went and got her money. She held it up to us, to me, lovely lolly she said, others had backed it too, one of those smacked her on the bottom, then they kissed, and not in a normal way. I laughed, Chrissy laughed, and Soph giggled. There were two races before out next entrant. We ate with the parents, a sit-down in a tent at about 3.00pm, I like pies better, Chikos more, and this was pink pork and Chrissy wasn't touching that. We moved the food around, and eventual binned it. You had to present a plate to qualify for sweets, now you're talking. Cake and cream, the chosen food of many after that previous calamity. We watched the entertainment, courtesy of the members bar, and sat up the back and side of the grandstand. It moves. The race before ours started and our jockey and two others came off, just after the turn into the straight, our man was on the outside and back a little it seemed, when the other two came off and one of those hit our mans horse and it veered right and the jockey went straight ahead, dove into the dust rolled and came up on his feet. There were injured jockeys on the track and some committee people running to them. There was no ambulance, there was a Doctor and a first aid kit, and they took a chair up there and carted one man back to the lawn, then through a gate and into a room under the grandstand. He waved and smiled with his dusty face and hands, and was all questions about who had won. The winner was unexpected, it was not fancied as they say, the favourites were beaten outright, and somebody associated with them was angry and shouted at the boy jockey, he was what 14 years and he gazed down at the ground while being berated by the angry man. Pasher was next, he stood tall, head up, ears up, and moved as Rhonda put that strap on and the next one. Don't pat him, don't settle him mate, just hold him, click your fingers to get his head up and keep it up. He has to work this boy. So I did that, and when she was down the back left, fussing over something, I gave him a pat on his neck, asked him who's a good boy then, and got a smooch on the head, true to form is Pasher. Please, mate, don't, don't settle him, he is all revved up as it is let's leave him at that. If that is a revved up racehorse then the betting public should look elsewhere. Soph and Chris rock up, and there are hugs, pats and smooches, what are you going to do? Rhonda went to get the saddle cloth, numbered with a sand company logo advert on it, and we smothered that big horse in pats, and kisses.in affection. Sophs Mum came to us while Rhonda was again fussing, and Pasher was intent on eating her hat, that thing they wear. Chrissy commented on one as something that grew in a tidal pool, The trainer got Rhonda to walk Pasher into the mounting yard, and we went with them as far as the fence, then I got a position for us on the rail near the finish and the others joined me there, like a sandwich filling. The race was for a mile and Pasher was a chance, Rhonda was fairly confident, but backed another, the trainer said well he is in the race and when they do that they all have a chance, which I thought was wishy washy at best, yes or no is what is required. He did win the race, the trainer, but not Pasher, his 4/1 chance won it, with a boy up, but the stable benefitted. Sophs dad does not bet, he likes racing, and has a room with a wall dedicated to horses, and a wall to football too, it was widely touted that the winner would do just that and the second and third placegetters were a lottery also. Pasher and the others, all the horses were loaded into a 9 horse float and left. Two wins were good, the trainer had three wins this day and 5 wins over the three days and the adults talked specifics and there were plans for Dubbo the week after next, or a city run, over some ground with a few horses in the makeup. The horse truck did a few trips to the airport, two for us six, and we had to get going as sundown was at 6.37pm and we must be on the ground by then, day time, night time rule, I think perhaps no night lights or something similar. We were, we were home before the night came in, it is still very light up there near the clouds, there was a delay in taxi-ing and queueing at Coonamble until somebody, I think the fuel man, organised us, pointed as in you go now, now you, go, and about 9 of us got out of there, north south east and west. Chris was in the front seat and had a go, a fly would it be, moved the beast with her antics, she would be a pilot at a later time, her second choice aeronautically, because she intended to build them if music couldn't be played, it was, she played in a band as her job. It was pretty much the Sophia and Chris day, they were good friends. Chris was romantically attached, to me, as it was then but as I wrote before she went to Sydney for school. Sophia did go overseas and did the things she said she would. Mother declined the peerage, but stayed and got the firm back in the black with some good Australian pragmatism. She can shear and drive a grader and a dozer, has an accountancy degree after backing out of economics at University, likes cricket and was golf captain. There is nothing she cannot do, Sophs words about her mother. I have a fond memory of both of them standing on a horse, Sophs home gelding, Rehgih, it's higher reversed but named for its Pakistani blood grandsire, while picking apricots out of the top of the tree, where the parrots hadn't got to and throwing them to me to catch them in a hat and pass hatfuls to Miss Gallagher. They both fell into the tree and started a slow motion falling, sliding, gravity affected descent to the ground, breaking smaller branches on the way, to end up side saddle, both of them on the old horse, who had moved away marginally when the load went off, and moved in, automatic like when perhaps he realised he could be the star here. They were both wearing jodhpurs and riding boots and they both crossed their legs in time and had an apricot and a laugh. Sophia played tennis in long pants and served underhand, she was shiny white in her bikini, was at least 92% leg and if they had a head girl at our catholic high school it was her. The go to for spider removal, vomit collection, auditorium seating construction and deconstruction, toffee making and selling and picker up of confetti, the bane of the Nun, placating a demoralised child recently derided for misspelling antidisestablishmentarianism and one who chose me as a responding conversationalist, tennis partner, and general muscle, somebody to hold the chairs and desks up and accessible while she sprayed Pagets Approved Disinfectant, undiluted due a label misread, the Glen-20 of our era. Kills all it contacts, it says it there on the label, and I'm writing this. Pasher had two more runs and was retired. He was to return to the spring paddock out at the marshes, a perennially green old folks home for horses, the earlier retirees. It is part of the 3rd station at Eenaweena and horses are taken there and introduced to the mob, there may be 30 there, not all mingling, apparently warm bloods can be stand offish and have to be supervised but they can be monitored, there is ground water there, it's healthy regarding fly and nuisance level, a rug is never needed and when you go there they idle across to the laneway, not so much to see who it is, but to see if whoever it is has a lolly, a pat or a bad third choice, an apple or a carrot. Pasher was given to Rhonda, whose enthusiasm outscored her ability to keep him, feed him. It is a big horse and the feed has to be purchased, and the paddock rent paid. There was no hesitation when Rhonda asked for help before he suffered, he was thin but healthy and the other good thing was Rhonda got the job to monitor and to be the early educator of young horses and to be the machinery operator for the cotton paddocks otherwise. She has a van and a man so everything worked out fine. The stallion got sold and had been doing what stallions do but I am unaware of the results of that. Crazy Zara, the mare may have got tangled in a fence in one of her escapades, this one was dumping the track work rider and spending the afternoon in the shopping centre streets of Dubbo, defying capture until she was fenced in with vehicles and sedated and her legs lacerations examined. She passed out of ownership anyway at that point and suffered a name change, to be sold again and hopefully mellowed to become a girls ride, you'd hope but hard decisions come easy when money goes. When I got a science prize at school and then my school certificate and my name was printed in the paper Sophia saw that in the UK, looked for it she said and wrote to me. She signed it Soapy surrounded by 9 kisses. It appears her parents lived apart, Pansy had a new girl and a new child and managed a smaller estate here in Australia. The Queensland places sold to cotton conglomerates from USA, and India, his father had bought them as prickly pear infested shitholes, and I use his words there, that corrected themselves when Cactoblastis overtook them and some remedial work was done, they became big viable cattle blocks but ended up under cotton. The shops were sold, as functioning business premises but country towns can be iffy, the hardware shop was retained and rebadged and really was the supply centre for the big concern, minimised somewhat as I said. Enjoy Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Fri Jan 19 08:53:09 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2018 08:53:09 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. In-Reply-To: <007501d389b0$5511ddc0$ff359940$@buckland.id.au> References: <002901d389a2$651af890$2f50e9b0$@com.au> <007501d389b0$5511ddc0$ff359940$@buckland.id.au> Message-ID: <003801d390a6$bbf1e740$33d5b5c0$@com.au> Phil, Thumbs up to Racing Tasmania - their reply to me: ******************* Thank you for your Minimum Bet Limit query for your Devonport bet on Jan 10th. We have followed this up directly with Centrebet. They have advised us that they do not see any restrictions on your account that would prevent you from betting to our Minimum. They suggest the most likely reason was some failure of the front end to read the suspension of Fixed pricing. I understand you have been able to place bets on Tasmanian racing following this so hopefully this was merely a one off technical glitch. ****************** Of course I believe the "front end" glitch as strongly as I believed the other fantastic yarns the Corporate parasites put as "reasons" - remember the "a fibre optic cable under St. Kilda road was damaged and as such resulted in some software issues" rubbish? PS, I got paid for that - Persistence paid off! The important thing is Racing Tasmania's intervention has forced Centrebet to stop rejecting $100 bets at 2.35 in contravention of the law. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Phil Buckland Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 12:14 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. I would be interested to see the response of this one from Racing Tasmania Phil From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 9:34 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. Tasmania MBL has been in place for ages. Centrebet refused this bet, to win just $135 at 9:05am today. cid:image001.png at 01D389F3.53AEA8D0 Their reply to my query was: ".. this was due to senior management's discretion". So, complaint to Racing Tasmania, and see if they back the wronged punter (as does Racing Victoria) or the rogue "bookmaker" (as does Racing NSW). FFS, they won't risk $135 and are willing to break the law to avoid doing so. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.png Type: image/png Size: 31825 bytes Desc: not available URL: From RaceStats at hotmail.com Fri Jan 19 09:28:22 2018 From: RaceStats at hotmail.com (Race Stats) Date: Thu, 18 Jan 2018 22:28:22 +0000 Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. In-Reply-To: <003801d390a6$bbf1e740$33d5b5c0$@com.au> References: <002901d389a2$651af890$2f50e9b0$@com.au> <007501d389b0$5511ddc0$ff359940$@buckland.id.au> <003801d390a6$bbf1e740$33d5b5c0$@com.au> Message-ID: Len, Interesting that they always have some software failure or technical failure which is complete rubbish. The "most likely reason", either it happened or it didn't! This is how these corporates get around the MBL. If Fixed pricing were to be suspended, you would get that message, not the message you got from your screenshot and they admitted that "this was due to senior management's discrection". So they are a bunch of liars not even willing to take bets and then pulling a swifty when it's reported. But it wouldn't surprise me if your account was closed soon, due to it "not being viable". Sorry Len, but they'll try anything to stop you, and circumvent the MBL. Lindsay From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Friday, 19 January 2018 8:53 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. Phil, Thumbs up to Racing Tasmania - their reply to me: ******************* Thank you for your Minimum Bet Limit query for your Devonport bet on Jan 10th. We have followed this up directly with Centrebet. They have advised us that they do not see any restrictions on your account that would prevent you from betting to our Minimum. They suggest the most likely reason was some failure of the front end to read the suspension of Fixed pricing. I understand you have been able to place bets on Tasmanian racing following this so hopefully this was merely a one off technical glitch. ****************** Of course I believe the "front end" glitch as strongly as I believed the other fantastic yarns the Corporate parasites put as "reasons" - remember the "a fibre optic cable under St. Kilda road was damaged and as such resulted in some software issues" rubbish? PS, I got paid for that - Persistence paid off! The important thing is Racing Tasmania's intervention has forced Centrebet to stop rejecting $100 bets at 2.35 in contravention of the law. LBL From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of Phil Buckland Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 12:14 PM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: Re: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. I would be interested to see the response of this one from Racing Tasmania Phil From: Racing [mailto:racing-bounces at ausrace.com] On Behalf Of L.B.Loveday Sent: Wednesday, 10 January 2018 9:34 AM To: 'AusRace Racing Discussion List' Subject: [AusRace] "We'll Bet You", even less than you imagined. Tasmania MBL has been in place for ages. Centrebet refused this bet, to win just $135 at 9:05am today. [cid:image001.png at 01D389F3.53AEA8D0] Their reply to my query was: ".. this was due to senior management's discretion". So, complaint to Racing Tasmania, and see if they back the wronged punter (as does Racing Victoria) or the rogue "bookmaker" (as does Racing NSW). FFS, they won't risk $135 and are willing to break the law to avoid doing so. LBL -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.png Type: image/png Size: 31825 bytes Desc: image001.png URL: From essbee at internode.on.net Fri Jan 19 13:23:52 2018 From: essbee at internode.on.net (Steve) Date: Fri, 19 Jan 2018 13:23:52 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] Archives Message-ID: <2f95d1d0-26e2-1847-8c92-48d8492b662b@internode.on.net> I am just wondering if anybody here can give me a link to the original Ausrace archives? Hopefully they are still there some place, but I can't find them. I just would like to browse them, as there was some very smart people that posted there. Thanks SteveB -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Sun Jan 21 11:09:02 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2018 08:09:02 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] Thesis - Unregistered Proprietary Horse Racing in Sydney - 1888-1942 Wayne Peake Message-ID: <000001d3924c$0c048930$240d9b90$@bigpond.com> http://researchdirect.uws.edu.au/islandora/object/uws%3A3758/datastrea m/PDF/download/citation.pdf This is long - the bibliography is excellent as are the descriptions, maps, photos, from page 300+ on. I did not ask permission, yet, to pin this and send it on. It is freely available, thank you for that, and congratulations on a good job of research - some of us like the specifics. Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From lloveday at ozemail.com.au Sun Jan 21 13:11:58 2018 From: lloveday at ozemail.com.au (L.B.Loveday) Date: Sun, 21 Jan 2018 13:11:58 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] (no subject) Message-ID: <003f01d3925d$397d8ea0$ac78abe0$@com.au> Quote: " Industry modelling has suggested that the corporate bookmakers would have to raise their prices by up to 25 per cent to recoup the cost of a point of consumption tax". What a quaint way of putting it! LBL BUSINESS Proposed wagering taxes to hit bookies profit, says Macquarie Sportsbet could emerge the only profitable corporate bookmaker as state wagering taxes gain traction, says Macquarie. . Sarah-Jane Tasker . The Australian . 4:12PM January 17, 2018 https://i1.wp.com/pixel.tcog.cp1.news.com.au/track/component/author/67d225de 82574ab1cbc41387ea367b18/?esi=true&t_product=the-australian&t_template=s3/au stemp-article_common/vertical/author/widget&td_bio=falseSportsbet could be the only corporate bookmaker that remains profitable if a new wagering tax is rolled out across Australia, according to investment bank Macquarie. The bank has run the numbers on a 15 per cent Australia-wide point of consumption tax, which showed that Sportsbet's rivals CrownBet, William Hill and Ladbrokes would all struggle to turn a profit if hit with a national tax. Macquarie added in its client note that the bookmakers could mitigate the tax though by lifting yields and cutting back on advertising and promotional activities. South Australia introduced a point of consumption tax last July, prompting other states to follow its lead, which could see the tax introduced across the country. UK wagering giant William Hill announced this week it was reviewing its Australian operation - led by Tom Waterhouse - warning new taxes and regulations would hit its profit. William Hill previously warned that a national point of consumption tax would have a significant impact on corporate bookmakers because such costs would be difficult to recover in a tough market. It said the tax would force some operators to review their operations in the Australian market. The South Australian regime is a 15 per cent tax on the net wagering revenue of betting companies earning more than $150,000 a year and offering services to South Australians. Victoria is set to introduce a similar tax in July and NSW, Queensland and Western Australia also have plans for a new wagering tax. Industry modelling has suggested that the corporate bookmakers would have to raise their prices by up to 25 per cent to recoup the cost of a point of consumption tax. Macquarie also highlighted in its note to clients that Australia's wagering market generated around $4 billion in revenue in 2017. Tabcorp (TAH ) accounts for 63 per cent market share of the wagering market, with the corporate bookmakers sharing the remaining 37 per cent and Sportsbet has the biggest slice of that share with 15 per cent. -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: -------------- next part -------------- A non-text attachment was scrubbed... Name: image001.png Type: image/png Size: 111 bytes Desc: not available URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Mon Jan 22 19:37:35 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Mon, 22 Jan 2018 16:37:35 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] A few weeks in 1973 - Gala Supreme wins The Cup Message-ID: <000001d3935c$4198e5d0$c4cab170$@bigpond.com> In 1973 it was virtually impossible to buy breakfast in Footscray. I was on a push bike, a girls green one, with those braided or knitted covers over the rear wheels so that a dress would not get enmeshed there, I had a plastic covered wire basket, there were white plastic feathers on the bar ends. I was cashed up, $1900 and instructions from Bron of where to go to get a feed, she was having anything bacon, twice. Impossible. I found a likely place, I did buy milk and cornflakes, and there was the possibility of a fry up, everything except the flame was present. The nice man said, mite, no. If it was tea time perhaps. Anyway I left the shop, with my papers, Goldtop and vittles' to see a horse on the footpath further up, eating from a rockery. Intriguing I thought so I went up towards it and it took off a few paces, had a nibble again, a second go, then went off at a hand canter up the wide footpath until it went from view due to the trees blocking that. I cycled homewards, I thought, and ended up outside Western Oval, I knew where I was now and home from there was easy. It seems horses are bettered catered for, breakfastwise, in Footscray, or had I strayed into Maidstone. The horse, of course, did not have to tussle with these queries, only that there seemed to be rockeries everywhere, a feature unobserved until now. It was Melbourne Cup Day and it was busy at 6.30am, sunny and it felt warm, in my jumper. Twice I passed horses, one being ridden and leading another, and the other ridden by a large man. I asked after the run away and it was known, it had been out and away, for several days, if it was the same, twice it had been hemmed in on a reserve near the river, it jumped in and swam to get away the first time, and ran across the timber bridge towards Flemington race course the second time. The chasers don't have jurisdiction for the river, a sort of 'you in Sherriff Buford Pettigate county now' quote from a bad picture set in Mississippi, and of course, there was no person over there to receive it, so it may have rattled back over the timber bridge again, seeking rockery plants undoubtedly. Bronwyn was not going to the Cup, expletive deleted no way. I went alone, one of thousands. It is very atmospheric, often Melbourne shows are, footy, boxing, the visit by HM The Queen and there is an energy that is felt, a swelling noise as they come down the straight, in this case. The footy in Sydney is not so passionate, the result is, but the umpires seem to be the focus of attention, League, and in Union there is quietness until the full back gets involved. These are personal observations, tell us your own. The racing is different, they all ride in the Grandstand don't they, my goodness. The pies are better, the seating too, there seems to be a group isolated somewhere up high and around a corner, the well to do or something, but they generate some noise themselves. I was going today to back Gala Supreme, it won but there were other races and a few good runner form lines in those. I back multiple runners, for a win or include them in a quinella, trios then trifectas were coming. The raw form calculations had Glengowan2, Swell Time2, Lord Ben2, Australasia 1*, Gala Supreme2, Daneson 2. My first bet, of the day, was $10 tote place for Lord Ben. I took it out of calculations straight away. It was 150/1 win so a $35 place dividend was hoped for, it ran about 8 lengths, 13th. Australasia had won the McKinnon on Saturday with 57.5 in slowish time and had 49.5. It was 9/1 when it won and 9/1 today. It's price was moving, they were shopping it, it beat Glengowan, and I don't know what happened in the Coongy, not many did know really as Lettsy got a 150/1 home, the run between it had won as well. Keep looking Glengowan had 56.5, an apprentice, wide, two miles, it was second to Australasia in the LKS McKinnon on Saturday at 3's, it was 4th in the Cox Plate at 3's, it won the Caulfield Stakes at 6/1. It was in the quinella, Master Harris knew what to do, the trainer had been unswervingly loyal. It had a lot going for it, price, form, Swell Time was second, beaten a head in the Cox Plate and the jockey swapped, it's price was moving, they were shopping around a lot, it had won the Caulfield Cup remember,33/1 to 16/1. Daneson had won the Hotham Handicap on Saturday by 5 lengths in slowish time, 4 seconds outside the record, but it's price there and it's margin meant they were serious when they ran it. Gala Supreme was 2nd in the Caulfield Cup and won the Herbert Power like a favourite should, 1.5 lengths, with distance to the rest. Jockey Reys was often demonstrative and this time he was effervescent. I got the quinella without having a win bet and had backed it in a double to win the Cup, 175/1, I had 4 bets to total $40, had it into the Caulfield Cup too, 33/1. I backed it in quinellas which I won and had a $5 win bet on the tote, to show Stuart, a pro then, and to have it framed on the wall of my bar, if I ever got one. I backed Brugan for a place, it was 250/1 in the ring but 70/1 on the tote later, somebody liked it off course I guess, the Finger effect it was called. I included Red Hope in some quinellas. I got there, on course, through the turnstiles, just as the big horses were warming up near the hurdle start. The ring was quiet, there were two men wrestling in the cafeteria, over seats, dear me. I had a quinella Chendru-Wahinbee, and a $2 place on both. Chendru placed at $3.50($2), when $14.50($2) with the books. This might happen when Cummins horses run, and it needs to be researched, this was my thinking then. I stayed out of the Highweight, poor form, but there was Midnight Cowboy and Stuart took Workman and it won. I had a Chiko. The cafeteria was a crime scene now, there were flash bulbs flashing and blokes in handcuffs, and a semi-circle of lookers on. I stayed out of the next too, the 3rd, although late I walked up the lawn amongst the crowd and meandered to have a look at the ring there, it was busy for this race, and Stuart saw me and nodded no, so we both stayed out. The Finger effect occurred, 3rd at 200/1, there was nothing to select it, a 7th the fortnight before, the winner was 2/9 (1.20) that race and Legal P was 66/1 pre race,50,25,15,25/1 in the fluctuations and paid 14/1 on the tote, that demonstrates interest, information not available but acted on, ridden by a no nonsense man then and another today, it was 40/1 on the tote and 10.50 place but 200/1, the Finger effect, you think. The 4th was easy, after the fact though, Love Life, Harry White, form factor 1- I had a place bet on Palace Angel, Bluey Lambie 50/1, 90/1 tote, $36 place, it was leading and lost, 2 lengths 7th they said. There was a Finger effect here too, Lahassa tied with Palace Angel in running, but no form and not touched otherwise. Love Life was 13/2 (5/1 tote). I had everything back and in the kick now. The Cup was next. Stuart backed Valiant Lodge in the next, it won, and I helped him put a fair bit on around the place, I think some would have taken the lot but Stu likes to bet in three bites, I got some on at 3's and we both got the remainder at 9/4. He stood bolt upright when he realised he had missed a saver, well an interest, while talking and socialising he let Just Victor run against him, it was unplaced 21 lengths off, it was owned and trained next door to where he lives, it was 9 on the tote and 16 in the ring, he didn't spend his money but he castigated himself for missing a loser it seems. Missing one doesn't take you closer to a winner, does it, or is it only closer to the next bet? Very deep. Race 7 was a Highweight and there were a few form free runners. I backed Galdare, unplaced, with a different jockey, 62.5 kg. The previous run was the week before in the Craven A and off good form it ran third 1.5 lengths a second off the record in a field of 26, 26 down the straight, where do you look. That Craven A stakes was the last of the unlimited fields ever, although Stu says there was another soon afterwards, there you go. I got 40/1 in that race, $11 place, and this race I got 5/1 straight out. If I was chasing I would have stayed out of it, the ring is near the cafeteria, there were Chikos, and it was second from the top, try saying $10 each way Galdare while mincing a Chiko , without spraying. Race 8 I had place on Step Ahead, Rick McLeish, safe at 50/1 but $130+ on the tote, Here's to You 7/1, and Bastille Beggar and Dayton in a quinella with Heres' to You - came second, and I missed with the rest. It took an hour to get to the river, and 10 minutes further to get home. There had been an enormous crowd waiting to get out and away and onto transport. It was a winning day as I wrote, there should be more. Stuart and I were going Thursday if it was fine, it was, and fast. Bron came with us, it's just a stroll from her place to the course, you can hear the course caller some days. Stu got Count Cobbler in the first, as did I but took an interest in Jo Gar and Volga, one the favourite, very short in the end and the other 40/1. Stu said he had made his money and would watch on, or spend a $20 here and there if he felt like it. He felt like it because he had a place on Munastre in the next, won at $9.90 place tote, but 100/1. I nearly, nearly, involved the Finger effect, form stream 2, 2nd. We stayed out of the next for a cup of tea and a talk and a perv. And the next, Oaks, fillies, 2500, no. Race 6 was the Black and White Cup, it was led by Higgs on Burly at about 3/1 ON. Stu doesn't do Higgins, he likes to look for value elsewhere and there may well be, given the betting popularity of his mounts. Stu found Tudor Peake earlier and had planned to be home by now, he wasn't, he was betting on that, a sizeable plonk as they say, and I had a little for the same reason, and quinella with Sheltara and Burly so I had the favourite somehow. Tudor Peak did it for us, 25/1. Stu left and I had worked out on Race 7. I ignored Higgins, it works more often than it should and had a win bet on Bush Win 9/1, Lord Metric 12/1, and quinellas with these and Think Big, so I had Higgs I had the favourite, then I had a place bet on Overtone and Supers Pride. It reads as desperate don't it. I wasn't, each of those had good merit for inclusion. Bush Win won. I went home after that, while racing continued. I went on Saturday with Bronwyn. We had a meal, a walk through the stalls and around the back to the stables, where they were playing two up, really. I started in the 4th race and missed with Merry Heart, 2nd. Bron had Cobbermine, Jockey T Finger, unplaced 33/1, he's gorgeous. Next, the George Adams, I had I'm Scarlet, Harry White 16/1, and Taj Rossi won 9/2 late, it was evens 5/2 on and off for a long while and money for All Shot and Portico caused its odds to lengthen. Race 6 a welter there were too many could be's and we watched. F Reys again, 7 winners from 21 rides in the month I read. Race 7 CB Fisher Plate, this was Gala Supreme Plan B, it was scratched on the morning. I picked Igloo but it was too short and I couldn't readily select a quinella partner. No bet. Bron was talking with our evening dinner date(s) and we left with them. It was a good night. I didn't have a bet in the last, I didn't have a selection to go with Here's to You either. I went to Sandown the next weekend for their Cup. I picked Gala Supreme and saved on it, and The Bite 8/1, and they ran 3rd and 2nd. Race 6 I backed Final Morn, and had a quinella with it and two others. Fail Race 7 I backed Here's to You 5/1 and it went longer then started at 11/2, it won well, I had Lord Ego line for a place and a quinella, it came fourth. I was up on the day, fare, entry, Chiko,fare. I had Midnight Cowboy and Worple in a quinella, bewdy $45. Time to go. Next morning we went for breakfast in Footscray, that place she knows and told me about at the start, where I saw the runaway horse, where they have bacon, twice, look for the rockeries, near Western Oval. What I did then. It's a bit more involved, because I make it, but I multiply the best two of the last three finishes, and rank the answers. So, in the George Adams Handicap 11 Taj Rossi was 411, multiply the best two of those 1*1= 1, do the same for 5 I'm Scarlet 512 = 1*2= 2. I do two other things, but those things are to the ranked runners and it just strengthens their reasons for involvement. Horses beyond 9/1 don't win as they should, as their odds would have you believe, there are so many of them also, consider this point. Too many possibilities, leave it. Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From prince_of_perth at hotmail.com Mon Jan 22 20:17:23 2018 From: prince_of_perth at hotmail.com (Scott C) Date: Mon, 22 Jan 2018 09:17:23 +0000 Subject: [AusRace] A few weeks in 1973 - Gala Supreme wins The Cup In-Reply-To: <000001d3935c$4198e5d0$c4cab170$@bigpond.com> Message-ID: You should write a book Tony On 22 Jan 2018 4:37 PM, Tony Moffat wrote: In 1973 it was virtually impossible to buy breakfast in Footscray. I was on a push bike, a girls green one, with those braided or knitted covers over the rear wheels so that a dress would not get enmeshed there, I had a plastic covered wire basket, there were white plastic feathers on the bar ends. I was cashed up, $1900 and instructions from Bron of where to go to get a feed, she was having anything bacon, twice. Impossible. I found a likely place, I did buy milk and cornflakes, and there was the possibility of a fry up, everything except the flame was present. The nice man said, mite, no. If it was tea time perhaps. Anyway I left the shop, with my papers, Goldtop and vittles? to see a horse on the footpath further up, eating from a rockery. Intriguing I thought so I went up towards it and it took off a few paces, had a nibble again, a second go, then went off at a hand canter up the wide footpath until it went from view due to the trees blocking that. I cycled homewards, I thought, and ended up outside Western Oval, I knew where I was now and home from there was easy. It seems horses are bettered catered for, breakfastwise, in Footscray, or had I strayed into Maidstone. The horse, of course, did not have to tussle with these queries, only that there seemed to be rockeries everywhere, a feature unobserved until now. It was Melbourne Cup Day and it was busy at 6.30am, sunny and it felt warm, in my jumper. Twice I passed horses, one being ridden and leading another, and the other ridden by a large man. I asked after the run away and it was known, it had been out and away, for several days, if it was the same, twice it had been hemmed in on a reserve near the river, it jumped in and swam to get away the first time, and ran across the timber bridge towards Flemington race course the second time. The chasers don?t have jurisdiction for the river, a sort of ?you in Sherriff Buford Pettigate county now? quote from a bad picture set in Mississippi, and of course, there was no person over there to receive it, so it may have rattled back over the timber bridge again, seeking rockery plants undoubtedly. Bronwyn was not going to the Cup, expletive deleted no way. I went alone, one of thousands. It is very atmospheric, often Melbourne shows are, footy, boxing, the visit by HM The Queen and there is an energy that is felt, a swelling noise as they come down the straight, in this case. The footy in Sydney is not so passionate, the result is, but the umpires seem to be the focus of attention, League, and in Union there is quietness until the full back gets involved. These are personal observations, tell us your own. The racing is different, they all ride in the Grandstand don?t they, my goodness. The pies are better, the seating too, there seems to be a group isolated somewhere up high and around a corner, the well to do or something, but they generate some noise themselves. I was going today to back Gala Supreme, it won but there were other races and a few good runner form lines in those. I back multiple runners, for a win or include them in a quinella, trios then trifectas were coming. The raw form calculations had Glengowan2, Swell Time2, Lord Ben2, Australasia 1*, Gala Supreme2, Daneson 2. My first bet, of the day, was $10 tote place for Lord Ben. I took it out of calculations straight away. It was 150/1 win so a $35 place dividend was hoped for, it ran about 8 lengths, 13th. Australasia had won the McKinnon on Saturday with 57.5 in slowish time and had 49.5. It was 9/1 when it won and 9/1 today. It?s price was moving, they were shopping it, it beat Glengowan, and I don?t know what happened in the Coongy, not many did know really as Lettsy got a 150/1 home, the run between it had won as well. Keep looking Glengowan had 56.5, an apprentice, wide, two miles, it was second to Australasia in the LKS McKinnon on Saturday at 3?s, it was 4th in the Cox Plate at 3?s, it won the Caulfield Stakes at 6/1. It was in the quinella, Master Harris knew what to do, the trainer had been unswervingly loyal. It had a lot going for it, price, form, Swell Time was second, beaten a head in the Cox Plate and the jockey swapped, it?s price was moving, they were shopping around a lot, it had won the Caulfield Cup remember,33/1 to 16/1. Daneson had won the Hotham Handicap on Saturday by 5 lengths in slowish time, 4 seconds outside the record, but it?s price there and it?s margin meant they were serious when they ran it. Gala Supreme was 2nd in the Caulfield Cup and won the Herbert Power like a favourite should, 1.5 lengths, with distance to the rest. Jockey Reys was often demonstrative and this time he was effervescent. I got the quinella without having a win bet and had backed it in a double to win the Cup, 175/1, I had 4 bets to total $40, had it into the Caulfield Cup too, 33/1. I backed it in quinellas which I won and had a $5 win bet on the tote, to show Stuart, a pro then, and to have it framed on the wall of my bar, if I ever got one. I backed Brugan for a place, it was 250/1 in the ring but 70/1 on the tote later, somebody liked it off course I guess, the Finger effect it was called. I included Red Hope in some quinellas. I got there, on course, through the turnstiles, just as the big horses were warming up near the hurdle start. The ring was quiet, there were two men wrestling in the cafeteria, over seats, dear me. I had a quinella Chendru-Wahinbee, and a $2 place on both. Chendru placed at $3.50($2), when $14.50($2) with the books. This might happen when Cummins horses run, and it needs to be researched, this was my thinking then. I stayed out of the Highweight, poor form, but there was Midnight Cowboy and Stuart took Workman and it won. I had a Chiko. The cafeteria was a crime scene now, there were flash bulbs flashing and blokes in handcuffs, and a semi-circle of lookers on. I stayed out of the next too, the 3rd, although late I walked up the lawn amongst the crowd and meandered to have a look at the ring there, it was busy for this race, and Stuart saw me and nodded no, so we both stayed out. The Finger effect occurred, 3rd at 200/1, there was nothing to select it, a 7th the fortnight before, the winner was 2/9 (1.20) that race and Legal P was 66/1 pre race,50,25,15,25/1 in the fluctuations and paid 14/1 on the tote, that demonstrates interest, information not available but acted on, ridden by a no nonsense man then and another today, it was 40/1 on the tote and 10.50 place but 200/1, the Finger effect, you think. The 4th was easy, after the fact though, Love Life, Harry White, form factor 1- I had a place bet on Palace Angel, Bluey Lambie 50/1, 90/1 tote, $36 place, it was leading and lost, 2 lengths 7th they said. There was a Finger effect here too, Lahassa tied with Palace Angel in running, but no form and not touched otherwise. Love Life was 13/2 (5/1 tote). I had everything back and in the kick now. The Cup was next. Stuart backed Valiant Lodge in the next, it won, and I helped him put a fair bit on around the place, I think some would have taken the lot but Stu likes to bet in three bites, I got some on at 3?s and we both got the remainder at 9/4. He stood bolt upright when he realised he had missed a saver, well an interest, while talking and socialising he let Just Victor run against him, it was unplaced 21 lengths off, it was owned and trained next door to where he lives, it was 9 on the tote and 16 in the ring, he didn?t spend his money but he castigated himself for missing a loser it seems. Missing one doesn?t take you closer to a winner, does it, or is it only closer to the next bet? Very deep. Race 7 was a Highweight and there were a few form free runners. I backed Galdare, unplaced, with a different jockey, 62.5 kg. The previous run was the week before in the Craven A and off good form it ran third 1.5 lengths a second off the record in a field of 26, 26 down the straight, where do you look. That Craven A stakes was the last of the unlimited fields ever, although Stu says there was another soon afterwards, there you go. I got 40/1 in that race, $11 place, and this race I got 5/1 straight out. If I was chasing I would have stayed out of it, the ring is near the cafeteria, there were Chikos, and it was second from the top, try saying $10 each way Galdare while mincing a Chiko , without spraying. Race 8 I had place on Step Ahead, Rick McLeish, safe at 50/1 but $130+ on the tote, Here?s to You 7/1, and Bastille Beggar and Dayton in a quinella with Heres? to You ? came second, and I missed with the rest. It took an hour to get to the river, and 10 minutes further to get home. There had been an enormous crowd waiting to get out and away and onto transport. It was a winning day as I wrote, there should be more. Stuart and I were going Thursday if it was fine, it was, and fast. Bron came with us, it?s just a stroll from her place to the course, you can hear the course caller some days. Stu got Count Cobbler in the first, as did I but took an interest in Jo Gar and Volga, one the favourite, very short in the end and the other 40/1. Stu said he had made his money and would watch on, or spend a $20 here and there if he felt like it. He felt like it because he had a place on Munastre in the next, won at $9.90 place tote, but 100/1. I nearly, nearly, involved the Finger effect, form stream 2, 2nd. We stayed out of the next for a cup of tea and a talk and a perv. And the next, Oaks, fillies, 2500, no. Race 6 was the Black and White Cup, it was led by Higgs on Burly at about 3/1 ON. Stu doesn?t do Higgins, he likes to look for value elsewhere and there may well be, given the betting popularity of his mounts. Stu found Tudor Peake earlier and had planned to be home by now, he wasn?t, he was betting on that, a sizeable plonk as they say, and I had a little for the same reason, and quinella with Sheltara and Burly so I had the favourite somehow. Tudor Peak did it for us, 25/1. Stu left and I had worked out on Race 7. I ignored Higgins, it works more often than it should and had a win bet on Bush Win 9/1, Lord Metric 12/1, and quinellas with these and Think Big, so I had Higgs I had the favourite, then I had a place bet on Overtone and Supers Pride. It reads as desperate don?t it. I wasn?t, each of those had good merit for inclusion. Bush Win won. I went home after that, while racing continued. I went on Saturday with Bronwyn. We had a meal, a walk through the stalls and around the back to the stables, where they were playing two up, really. I started in the 4th race and missed with Merry Heart, 2nd. Bron had Cobbermine, Jockey T Finger, unplaced 33/1, he?s gorgeous. Next, the George Adams, I had I?m Scarlet, Harry White 16/1, and Taj Rossi won 9/2 late, it was evens 5/2 on and off for a long while and money for All Shot and Portico caused its odds to lengthen. Race 6 a welter there were too many could be?s and we watched. F Reys again, 7 winners from 21 rides in the month I read. Race 7 CB Fisher Plate, this was Gala Supreme Plan B, it was scratched on the morning. I picked Igloo but it was too short and I couldn?t readily select a quinella partner. No bet. Bron was talking with our evening dinner date(s) and we left with them. It was a good night. I didn?t have a bet in the last, I didn?t have a selection to go with Here?s to You either. I went to Sandown the next weekend for their Cup. I picked Gala Supreme and saved on it, and The Bite 8/1, and they ran 3rd and 2nd. Race 6 I backed Final Morn, and had a quinella with it and two others. Fail Race 7 I backed Here?s to You 5/1 and it went longer then started at 11/2, it won well, I had Lord Ego line for a place and a quinella, it came fourth. I was up on the day, fare, entry, Chiko,fare. I had Midnight Cowboy and Worple in a quinella, bewdy $45. Time to go. Next morning we went for breakfast in Footscray, that place she knows and told me about at the start, where I saw the runaway horse, where they have bacon, twice, look for the rockeries, near Western Oval. What I did then. It?s a bit more involved, because I make it, but I multiply the best two of the last three finishes, and rank the answers. So, in the George Adams Handicap 11 Taj Rossi was 411, multiply the best two of those 1*1= 1, do the same for 5 I?m Scarlet 512 = 1*2= 2. I do two other things, but those things are to the ranked runners and it just strengthens their reasons for involvement. Horses beyond 9/1 don?t win as they should, as their odds would have you believe, there are so many of them also, consider this point. Too many possibilities, leave it. Cheers Tony [https://ipmcdn.avast.com/images/icons/icon-envelope-tick-green-avg-v1.png] Virus-free. www.avg.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From norsaintpublishing at gmail.com Mon Jan 22 20:43:38 2018 From: norsaintpublishing at gmail.com (norsaintpublishing at gmail.com) Date: Mon, 22 Jan 2018 20:43:38 +1100 Subject: [AusRace] A few weeks in 1973 - Gala Supreme wins The Cup In-Reply-To: <000001d3935c$4198e5d0$c4cab170$@bigpond.com> References: <000001d3935c$4198e5d0$c4cab170$@bigpond.com> Message-ID: Onya Tony. Lot of familiar names there that you've dug up. Sent with Mailtrack On Mon, Jan 22, 2018 at 7:37 PM, Tony Moffat wrote: > In 1973 it was virtually impossible to buy breakfast in Footscray. I was > on a push bike, a girls green one, with those braided or knitted covers > over the rear wheels so that a dress would not get enmeshed there, I had a > plastic covered wire basket, there were white plastic feathers on the bar > ends. I was cashed up, $1900 and instructions from Bron of where to go to > get a feed, she was having anything bacon, twice. Impossible. I found a > likely place, I did buy milk and cornflakes, and there was the possibility > of a fry up, everything except the flame was present. The nice man said, > mite, no. If it was tea time perhaps. Anyway I left the shop, with my > papers, Goldtop and vittles? to see a horse on the footpath further up, > eating from a rockery. Intriguing I thought so I went up towards it and it > took off a few paces, had a nibble again, a second go, then went off at a > hand canter up the wide footpath until it went from view due to the trees > blocking that. I cycled homewards, I thought, and ended up outside Western > Oval, I knew where I was now and home from there was easy. It seems horses > are bettered catered for, breakfastwise, in Footscray, or had I strayed > into Maidstone. The horse, of course, did not have to tussle with these > queries, only that there seemed to be rockeries everywhere, a feature > unobserved until now. > > > > It was Melbourne Cup Day and it was busy at 6.30am, sunny and it felt > warm, in my jumper. Twice I passed horses, one being ridden and leading > another, and the other ridden by a large man. I asked after the run away > and it was known, it had been out and away, for several days, if it was the > same, twice it had been hemmed in on a reserve near the river, it jumped in > and swam to get away the first time, and ran across the timber bridge > towards Flemington race course the second time. The chasers don?t have > jurisdiction for the river, a sort of ?you in Sherriff Buford Pettigate > county now? quote from a bad picture set in Mississippi, and of course, > there was no person over there to receive it, so it may have rattled back > over the timber bridge again, seeking rockery plants undoubtedly. > > > > Bronwyn was not going to the Cup, expletive deleted no way. I went alone, > one of thousands. It is very atmospheric, often Melbourne shows are, footy, > boxing, the visit by HM The Queen and there is an energy that is felt, a > swelling noise as they come down the straight, in this case. The footy in > Sydney is not so passionate, the result is, but the umpires seem to be the > focus of attention, League, and in Union there is quietness until the full > back gets involved. These are personal observations, tell us your own. The > racing is different, they all ride in the Grandstand don?t they, my > goodness. The pies are better, the seating too, there seems to be a group > isolated somewhere up high and around a corner, the well to do or > something, but they generate some noise themselves. > > > > I was going today to back Gala Supreme, it won but there were other races > and a few good runner form lines in those. I back multiple runners, for a > win or include them in a quinella, trios then trifectas were coming. The > raw form calculations had Glengowan2, Swell Time2, Lord Ben2, Australasia > 1*, Gala Supreme2, Daneson 2. > > > > My first bet, of the day, was $10 tote place for Lord Ben. I took it out > of calculations straight away. It was 150/1 win so a $35 place dividend was > hoped for, it ran about 8 lengths, 13th. > > > > Australasia had won the McKinnon on Saturday with 57.5 in slowish time and > had 49.5. It was 9/1 when it won and 9/1 today. It?s price was moving, they > were shopping it, it beat Glengowan, and I don?t know what happened in the > Coongy, not many did know really as Lettsy got a 150/1 home, the run > between it had won as well. Keep looking > > Glengowan had 56.5, an apprentice, wide, two miles, it was second to > Australasia in the LKS McKinnon on Saturday at 3?s, it was 4th in the Cox > Plate at 3?s, it won the Caulfield Stakes at 6/1. It was in the quinella, > Master Harris knew what to do, the trainer had been unswervingly loyal. It > had a lot going for it, price, form, > > Swell Time was second, beaten a head in the Cox Plate and the jockey > swapped, it?s price was moving, they were shopping around a lot, it had won > the Caulfield Cup remember,33/1 to 16/1. > > Daneson had won the Hotham Handicap on Saturday by 5 lengths in slowish > time, 4 seconds outside the record, but it?s price there and it?s margin > meant they were serious when they ran it. > > Gala Supreme was 2nd in the Caulfield Cup and won the Herbert Power like a > favourite should, 1.5 lengths, with distance to the rest. Jockey Reys was > often demonstrative and this time he was effervescent. I got the quinella > without having a win bet and had backed it in a double to win the Cup, > 175/1, I had 4 bets to total $40, had it into the Caulfield Cup too, 33/1. > I backed it in quinellas which I won and had a $5 win bet on the tote, to > show Stuart, a pro then, and to have it framed on the wall of my bar, if I > ever got one. > > I backed Brugan for a place, it was 250/1 in the ring but 70/1 on the tote > later, somebody liked it off course I guess, the Finger effect it was > called. I included Red Hope in some quinellas. > > > > I got there, on course, through the turnstiles, just as the big horses > were warming up near the hurdle start. The ring was quiet, there were two > men wrestling in the cafeteria, over seats, dear me. I had a quinella > Chendru-Wahinbee, and a $2 place on both. Chendru placed at $3.50($2), when > $14.50($2) with the books. This might happen when Cummins horses run, and > it needs to be researched, this was my thinking then. > > > > I stayed out of the Highweight, poor form, but there was Midnight Cowboy > and Stuart took Workman and it won. I had a Chiko. The cafeteria was a > crime scene now, there were flash bulbs flashing and blokes in handcuffs, > and a semi-circle of lookers on. > > > > I stayed out of the next too, the 3rd, although late I walked up the lawn > amongst the crowd and meandered to have a look at the ring there, it was > busy for this race, and Stuart saw me and nodded no, so we both stayed out. > The Finger effect occurred, 3rd at 200/1, there was nothing to select it, a > 7th the fortnight before, the winner was 2/9 (1.20) that race and Legal P > was 66/1 pre race,50,25,15,25/1 in the fluctuations and paid 14/1 on the > tote, that demonstrates interest, information not available but acted on, > ridden by a no nonsense man then and another today, it was 40/1 on the tote > and 10.50 place but 200/1, the Finger effect, you think. > > > > The 4th was easy, after the fact though, Love Life, Harry White, form > factor 1- I had a place bet on Palace Angel, Bluey Lambie 50/1, 90/1 tote, > $36 place, it was leading and lost, 2 lengths 7th they said. There was a > Finger effect here too, Lahassa tied with Palace Angel in running, but no > form and not touched otherwise. Love Life was 13/2 (5/1 tote). I had > everything back and in the kick now. > > > > The Cup was next. > > > > Stuart backed Valiant Lodge in the next, it won, and I helped him put a > fair bit on around the place, I think some would have taken the lot but Stu > likes to bet in three bites, I got some on at 3?s and we both got the > remainder at 9/4. He stood bolt upright when he realised he had missed a > saver, well an interest, while talking and socialising he let Just Victor > run against him, it was unplaced 21 lengths off, it was owned and trained > next door to where he lives, it was 9 on the tote and 16 in the ring, he > didn?t spend his money but he castigated himself for missing a loser it > seems. Missing one doesn?t take you closer to a winner, does it, or is it > only closer to the next bet? Very deep. > > > > Race 7 was a Highweight and there were a few form free runners. I backed > Galdare, unplaced, with a different jockey, 62.5 kg. The previous run was > the week before in the Craven A and off good form it ran third 1.5 lengths > a second off the record in a field of 26, 26 down the straight, where do > you look. That Craven A stakes was the last of the unlimited fields ever, > although Stu says there was another soon afterwards, there you go. I got > 40/1 in that race, $11 place, and this race I got 5/1 straight out. If I > was chasing I would have stayed out of it, the ring is near the cafeteria, > there were Chikos, and it was second from the top, try saying $10 each way > Galdare while mincing a Chiko , without spraying. > > > > Race 8 I had place on Step Ahead, Rick McLeish, safe at 50/1 but $130+ on > the tote, Here?s to You 7/1, and Bastille Beggar and Dayton in a quinella > with Heres? to You ? came second, and I missed with the rest. > > > > It took an hour to get to the river, and 10 minutes further to get home. > There had been an enormous crowd waiting to get out and away and onto > transport. It was a winning day as I wrote, there should be more. > > > > Stuart and I were going Thursday if it was fine, it was, and fast. Bron > came with us, it?s just a stroll from her place to the course, you can hear > the course caller some days. > > > > Stu got Count Cobbler in the first, as did I but took an interest in Jo > Gar and Volga, one the favourite, very short in the end and the other 40/1. > > Stu said he had made his money and would watch on, or spend a $20 here and > there if he felt like it. He felt like it because he had a place on > Munastre in the next, won at $9.90 place tote, but 100/1. I nearly, > nearly, involved the Finger effect, form stream 2, 2nd. We stayed out of > the next for a cup of tea and a talk and a perv. And the next, Oaks, > fillies, 2500, no. > > > > Race 6 was the Black and White Cup, it was led by Higgs on Burly at about > 3/1 ON. Stu doesn?t do Higgins, he likes to look for value elsewhere and > there may well be, given the betting popularity of his mounts. Stu found > Tudor Peake earlier and had planned to be home by now, he wasn?t, he was > betting on that, a sizeable plonk as they say, and I had a little for the > same reason, and quinella with Sheltara and Burly so I had the favourite > somehow. Tudor Peak did it for us, 25/1. > > > > Stu left and I had worked out on Race 7. I ignored Higgins, it works more > often than it should and had a win bet on Bush Win 9/1, Lord Metric 12/1, > and quinellas with these and Think Big, so I had Higgs I had the favourite, > then I had a place bet on Overtone and Supers Pride. It reads as desperate > don?t it. I wasn?t, each of those had good merit for inclusion. Bush Win > won. > > > > I went home after that, while racing continued. > > > > I went on Saturday with Bronwyn. We had a meal, a walk through the stalls > and around the back to the stables, where they were playing two up, really. > I started in the 4th race and missed with Merry Heart, 2nd. Bron had > Cobbermine, Jockey T Finger, unplaced 33/1, he?s gorgeous. > > > > Next, the George Adams, I had I?m Scarlet, Harry White 16/1, and Taj Rossi > won 9/2 late, it was evens 5/2 on and off for a long while and money for > All Shot and Portico caused its odds to lengthen. > > > > Race 6 a welter there were too many could be?s and we watched. F Reys > again, 7 winners from 21 rides in the month I read. > > > > Race 7 CB Fisher Plate, this was Gala Supreme Plan B, it was scratched on > the morning. I picked Igloo but it was too short and I couldn?t readily > select a quinella partner. No bet. Bron was talking with our evening dinner > date(s) and we left with them. It was a good night. > > > > I didn?t have a bet in the last, I didn?t have a selection to go with > Here?s to You either. > > > > I went to Sandown the next weekend for their Cup. I picked Gala Supreme > and saved on it, and The Bite 8/1, and they ran 3rd and 2nd. > > > > Race 6 I backed Final Morn, and had a quinella with it and two others. Fail > > > > Race 7 I backed Here?s to You 5/1 and it went longer then started at 11/2, > it won well, I had Lord Ego line for a place and a quinella, it came > fourth. I was up on the day, fare, entry, Chiko,fare. > > I had Midnight Cowboy and Worple in a quinella, bewdy $45. Time to go. > > > > Next morning we went for breakfast in Footscray, that place she knows and > told me about at the start, where I saw the runaway horse, where they have > bacon, twice, look for the rockeries, near Western Oval. > > > > What I did then. It?s a bit more involved, because I make it, but I > multiply the best two of the last three finishes, and rank the answers. So, > in the George Adams Handicap 11 Taj Rossi was 411, multiply the best two of > those 1*1= 1, do the same for 5 I?m Scarlet 512 = 1*2= 2. I do two other > things, but those things are to the ranked runners and it just strengthens > their reasons for involvement. Horses beyond 9/1 don?t win as they should, > as their odds would have you believe, there are so many of them also, > consider this point. Too many possibilities, leave it. > > > > Cheers > > > > Tony > > > > > > > Virus-free. > www.avg.com > > <#m_-5856521438102472325_DAB4FAD8-2DD7-40BB-A1B8-4E2AA1F9FDF2> > > _______________________________________________ > Racing mailing list > Racing at ausrace.com > http://ausrace.com/mailman/listinfo/racing_ausrace.com > > -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From tonymoffat at bigpond.com Tue Jan 30 15:55:50 2018 From: tonymoffat at bigpond.com (Tony Moffat) Date: Tue, 30 Jan 2018 12:55:50 +0800 Subject: [AusRace] Hairy(Heremus), Spiralling Sputnick and the strength of 5 Message-ID: <000001d39986$9ab7cac0$d0276040$@bigpond.com> Heremus is a footballer I knew who lived in Mooroolbark, near the railway. Probably the best rugby player of his day from around there, and that opinion based on my opinion that he is the only player from Mooroolbark. It was a soccer town, and the other game dominated also. He caught a train to go to training, which has a symmetry to it. He was hairy, but bald, that hairless strip they get, from the forehead back, like a reverse Mohawk, anyway he had no hair, then there was hair everywhere, head, neck, shoulders, back, fingers, all the expectant hair fosterers were up and running. He was the other side of the front row to me, and he had never played in the 2nds or Firsts. He went to training twice a week and while he did not do Rugby at school, a college in Croydon, he did Saturday rugby nearby whilst at school, no parent, just him and 50 other boys, imports most of them, that's what they called themselves, from New South they said, as was I, or Queenslanders, who said it was always cold. If aged 15 or over you paid $12 to play, and it cost $10 to get the bus from the home ground to the game and return afterwards, and it was packed, standing room only and really that club was the one he stayed with for many years, most Sundays in season he was there at 8.30am, sitting on the first tier of the grandstand, waiting and watching for others to arrive. The bus went at 10.00am, and in between he had changed and was warming up with those others on the perimeter of the small oval. It was tiny, that oval, and they had netting at the ends, either of them, to catch the ball, of course some balls were errant, or made that way, and while they had 5 game balls, it has happened that the committee has had to go door knocking to get a ball to enable a game to go on. Our club balls were dipped as they said, they had a light blue colouration at one point, one end then, whereas the other clubs balls had a different colour, perhaps or more likely no colour to distinguish them, anyway, whatever, if they weren't ours they got booted, high, wide and handsome and the committee, with some rancour it has to be said, went doorknocking, even if there were balls to enable play to go on, the Council got involved and there was invoked the Sputnik clause, a ball kicked out of the park with deliberation by us, the team, became the property of our club, and we had to replace that ball with one of ours, then look for the spiralling Sputnik. A genius then determined that the missing ball was more often kicked by a forward and if you know Rugby, forwards don't kick, don't kick accurately then, shouldn't kick anyway but retain possession, and the kicker wore a helmet. I wore a helmet, Heremus did too, we were both tall, certainly over the heads of the average forward bent over doing forward things, and it was in this scenario that Heremus kicked over and out, away from, way out. At half time the President had words with me, I was young fella to him because obviously I wasn't wearing a name badge and as he spoke, with venom and some spittle, I noticed Hairy had taken his helmet off, and off meant in the change rooms, in the side pocket of his kit bag, clever. Look, I nodded and ate an orange but I to this day don't know what I agreed to. Nobody else had a helmet, nobody, when before they were prevalent, I mean the wife of the sports store owner had a stall set up under the veranda at the front of the grandstand and you could get them there, also supports, tape, sprigs, sprig tools, boots, shorts, all at Sunday prices, weekday plus 150%. We won, no balls were lost, and the coach said he would get the ball during the week and invoice me. I asked for specifics and got told that I had agreed to replace any lost balls for a month. It didn't happen, it's a team, and we lost two and the team bought two, a dollar each team member and the committee tipped in $3 each, then they bought three spares, spares meaning a licence to kick the bladder out of somebody else's ball, over the fence, out of sight. I bought the keg at the end of the season. The President went next season, the Coach got that spot and a new coach came in, a school teacher, and the first thing he did was make us pull our socks up, like that helps. Heremus played on through it all, I did to a lesser extent, work took me away some weeks, but I trained during the week. He was made Captain of the Thirds, he warmed to it, his Senatorlike speeches before and at half time were pointed, encouraging almost, feed the halves, look for the lock, get the ball to us, him and me, as the third rung, and don't kick the effing thing ever, you'll bruise it. No matter how many times you heard that, it was funny, well we laughed and it was good to belong. The Coach was good, had some innovative ideas for ball movement up the field, utilising our lack of a star or even the lack of athletic prowess, hobbled to the average age, which may have been 35, between 30 and 35 years, and multiplied by our enthusiasm, while the score differential was less than 10 anyway. He had sisters Thalia and Calliope, and one parent, at a time, Mum was there, Dad was in Greece, Dad was there, Mum was in Greece. Couldn't leave the place I believe. Dad painted the road, the lines, with a roller or brush and a template. The spray painter was available but Dad maintained he got a better finish with his brush so no. It wasn't mile after endless mile of white line either, it was the tricky ones, the cross hatched areas, the perimeters of round-abouts, the specials almost everywhere, all in chrome white, amongst the traffic often or in the middle of night with flashing lights and street closed signs. Mum sewed, curtains, for a greek shop owner. The girls went to school, and the girls went out. Heremus (Hairy) drove the truck while Dad painted, if Dad was absent Hairy painted. They worked from 1100 to 1500 5 days a week, the paint supply governed when they did, unless there was a direction to paint at night, to minimise disruption, stop the complaints to the MP, then they came home, then they went to work during the day again, day then night. It was an ok job, except car drivers wanted to fight you a lot, they not appreciating the drying time associated with the application, it's actually 10 minutes in winter time and way less when it's warm, it has to be dry weather and dry roadway but, the science in this is calming. They did out on the open road of course, the stop lines, those broad white lines associated with the stop or give way signs, that was theirs out their way. A bigger company did the big distance jobs, with a proper spray cart, mechanised, pressurised, 6 blokes mate, 6, couple of tons of paint a shift there, phew, and they weren't called painters or anything, engineers it says on their truck, site engineers, then more writing to show what they did, plumbing, electrical, fencing, painting. It's not what they do first, mate, they don't paint because they like it, they paint because they have to. That would be Dad back there describing the bigger firms, still wearing his bandana and white overalls, long sleeves, tennis shoes, white tinged eyebrows. They looked natural those two, pub natural which is where you found them at the end of the day, two pots and home. They had a steam room at home, electric, with purified water dripping on it and a swirl of steam, and those two greek boys glistening in there, in the nude, and the overspray did not stand a chance to stick on their skin, anywhere. It was a six seater and often there would be two others there with them, arthritic mates talking in Aussie greek, which is their lingo with an Australian accent, mate. The work truck, a Ford ute, was the only vehicle at the house, everything else really was train, bus, tram. The garage was full of paint pots, clean and organised and disallowed because of the fire risk associated, but nobody had said anything for a couple of years, more, so all good eh. Heremus was known more for his gambling than almost anything and often tells the story of Ben Lomond, 3rd in the Cup at 9/1, unloved, ridiculed I believe but honest. It was third in the McKinnon 13/8, 2nd in the Cox Plate 7/4, 3rd in the Caulfield Stakes, and that form pedigree still does not make people remember it, Ben who is a common comment from racing people when its name comes up, nothing about a Cup third, or good efforts earning money to get an entry even, nothing. He liked odds, 16/1 or better was his bottom line, $5 the place, and it was mostly with the tote. He could see a glimmer of ability occasionally, running on good, and he had all the photos, and the positions in running - leading at the half mile, forward at the quarter mile, beaten before the turn, ran on in the straight to finish 5 or more back, unloved, ridiculed, and he was mildly track centric, Moonee Valley and Sandown, and those both must have tested the Burke and Wills syndrome, it was simpler to catch an express to the city then get the race train, entry ticket inclusive. He was always early on course though, and the last to leave, delayed as he sat and pondered and counted. The sisters never went, their target audience was in the city or the milk bars on Sydney Road or nearer the city, riding the trams, looking for fun, for their group, girls with guys with cars, knitted singlets, chains, side burns and that list from them when we spoke, in answer to the question what turns you on. After the last there were often trams with nobody on them later, he liked that, a bus and a train likewise. He left the course alone, and waited on the platform while the tram or the bus came and went, he isolated himself, looked out a lot, or up the track, until a train or a tram, arrived and there was just him, and few on board, that is when he boarded and left, big him in an empty carriage. He kind of shut down late in the day, he would be talkative, on topic subjects, more often a yes or whatever was needed to complete a line of questioning then he walked, and you had to find him and start a new line of conversation again, But he counted what he had, always tested his tickets, and might be there for a few minutes at the last machine window, putting them through, he found refunds, and dividends he didn't know he owned, then he left you. It would be off putting if you didn't realise that was how it was, a separation instigated by him. He found Spooky(Gumbleton) 33/1, missed the next, then Banyan Belle 20/1, out from 7's, then had Chassagne in the last and watched it backed into 9/1, it placed and he had it for a place. He went to Sydney (or Brisbane) for the Test and had a bet there on Rain Lover, 3rd 16/1 and so he went back on the train to collect the next week end and missed two by Danny Miller, 33/1 and 20/1, he will tell you how and why he went, he met a girl, that was one reason, but he had 21 days to collect was the real reason for going, the girl was long gone. He worked for a couple of weekends and it had been rainy anyway, although suitable for spraying perhaps. He got back on course at MV and got Commanding Light20/1 missed two, excluded Change 25/1 Gilders, then got Gnapur WA Smith 16/1 although it closed at 12/1.He followed up the next weekend with two WA Smith rides Rich Kingdom 40/1 in the Spring Stakes, and Diploma 50/1 in the Welter. Ok, I've highlighted the good times there, he was actually 2 to 1 losers to winners, winners being placegetters often, single picks, one runner per race, which cost him sometimes like Russett Gold 33/1 and his pick ran 4th, Prince Siam 100/1 and his pick ran nowhere and the Prince Siam excluded on price only, a stupid rule, a silly reason he told me later, and sometimes he went 5, or 7 bets and nothing, not a thing to show for it, they still running he said with a laugh. He got Port Major 16/1, Swift Circle 33/1, and one loss. The weeks and months rolled by and he continued picking and collecting sometimes, he settled at $50 a bet, and was still at that rate when I left to work elsewhere. In Gala Supreme Cup he backed Daneson, the day before really, and had an extra $40 on it on the day. Daneson had won its last start and had run 5th the run before that. It was 16/1 all day, all week actually and paid $5 place on the tote, 16/1 straight out. He discarded Lord Ben 100/1,Brugan 200/1,Gala Red 250/1, Mon Vin 250/1. Brugan had run, and ran on well in the Hotham Hcp, the race that Daneson won. Gala Red was outclassed in the McKinnon Stakes. Brugan and Gala Red had run in the MV Cup and did nothing to cause their selection. Mon Vin had run 5th in a welter, its qualifying run, then went out of town to be beaten badly. That was the form lines he followed. Each race takes up to 15 minutes to work out, work through, you have to manually find your runner if you don't have a form guide to assist you. Hairy couldn't find a bet until the Cup, he thought Rein Cheque in the 1st, a hurdle but it's good form was old, there were 9 runners between it and the favourite, it blew to 140/1 and started at 125/1 but was 17 lengths fifth, and without his money riding. The 2nd, the Highweight, he could make a case for Althrye Sun 20/1,Wolfgang 100/1, Manilla Spirit 100/1 3rd, Comet Lass 250 last. He did not back anything, he was talking to me and did not have any interest on any of them, too many chances he said, not interested. Same with the third race, not his type, 2yo, minimal form, no way he said. In the Cup steeple, race 6, he picked Deakin Street, 20/1 but it had been 12/1 overnight and paid woefully for a place, but it paid. He lost in the Highweight(2) with 45/1 Just a Gamble, John Miller. 2 days later it won, and selected itself then. In the last he was waiting on Bastille Beggar to blow but decided it's form line was old, it was, a fifth in a welter better arithmetically than the win afterwards, at 33/1, and now it hovered around 10/1 then blew to 14/1. It ran without him but. He was walking off the course towards the train as they jumped. No betting, crap he said, see you next week. Hairy didn't go on Thursday, Ladies Day now, he was working at Mt Buller with his Dad. His selections would have been Dollars Hope, unplaced 35/1, in the first. In the second he selected Munastre 100/1 won, $9.90 place, 2 other runners were excluded because of their price, too short, formwise they may have selected themselves. Selection Kingston Star won the third but was excluded because of the price 15/1 into 14/1 - Hairy likes them 16/1 onwards. Princess Eulogy 20/1 was unplaced in the 4th. In the Oaks selection was ElTico 50/1 unplaced. In the 6th there were too many qualifiers Vantarea 50/1 was unplaced, but there were three with similar qualifications. In the 7th Lord Metric did not qualify on price, 12/1, nor did Reckless 15/1 and Detonator was eliminated early, old form, 25/1. In the last there were too many qualifiers, then some eliminated because of the price, perhaps Typhoon Tim, 99/1, unplaced. On Saturday, I met Hairy there and he had Abet in the Steeple, 2nd 25/1. There were too many qualifiers in the 4th but Upstairs was placed at 20/1 off a 5 formline. In the 5th there were too many qualifiers, the best of those Toltrice came third at 12/1, too short. In the 6th there were too many qualifiers and no way, except price to separate them, Lord Kingston 15/1, won, and Bon Saba 12/1 came second, these two were equal first picks. Race 7 selection Classic Wave, 70/1 unplaced. In the last he lost when Blaise Boy 50/1 was unplaced 6, 1.5 lengths off. Again he kind of vanished, not so much a cheerio, a wave, or anything, he switched off and he went. He often didn't go home, went down to Port Melbourne to a club, a quiet place where he could talk to a girl if he wanted, but, and there is always that, he got ridiculed by navy blokes, sailors I asked, no just blokes in uniform giving the Madam a torrid time and they set upon him, as the Police report said, and he was kicked and punched but stayed out of a sense of duty to the place, until some security arrived, and the cavalry put things to right, the sailors got repulsed, and the Police came and didn't need to do anything, except write down his name. He stayed in the Club until told to leave by security, despite protestations from the girl, girls, but he went and got home in the grey morning. He tells me he mistakenly had an affection for a girl there, she was often his choice and when she moved to Abbotsford, so did he. This went on a for a year or more, and she went elsewhere and when he inquired he was told that wasn't her name and they didn't know where she was, she owed money and would you pay that. Did he. He might have, he would have if there was a furtherance of contact but no, the last best guess was that she was working in Caloundra, and he nearly went there to look. My offer was to go in my campervan and have a few days, weeks, away from town and to look like I said, we even researched brothels up that way, reading about them in the Saturday papers, we had a name, a photo. The more delay that occurred meant that I cooled to the idea, and it didn't happen as you can tell, but he had this twinge, he missed her, he was broken hearted. After Christmas 1973 I worked away for months and returned as football training began. Heremus was missing but the coach, and me, went to his house and he was convinced to come and have a run anyway, get fit, get fitter then, and if you maintain training the captaincy is yours. He accepted and he took up the baton for that year. We went to MV for Alister Clark Stakes day, he wanted Coolalinga but it was scratched and Zambari was too short, 2nd. He missed a couple and was losing interest as well, he wasn't with us and we were to have a meal in town but he said he wouldn't now and he got on his train and left. I saw him at training of course. When Vintage Lane won at 60/1 (100/1 had been bet) I saw him standing on the lawn, this was Caulfield, unusual hunting ground for him. I waited while he collected and he had heaps. Prince Corinto (100/1) placed in the next and I saw him in the queue, and afterwards, eating and studying the form guide. I saw him a couple of times in subsequent weeks on course, and as I was travelling the next day, taking equipment out of the city I sometimes saw him at training, I went one day week and rarely played that year. It was told to me that Hairy gave up the Captaincy, told the Coach he was away for a few weeks, they had been playing well all year and would make the finals, in a 9 team competition. They had three team captains in six weeks and lost the grand final. I was there for that, watching, and there was no Hairy anywhere, his first absence in a couple of years. His house was empty, vacant, and the truck gone and no paint in the garage. I could have done a bit more to find him, but there was nothing from his side, no forwarding address at the Club, or checked with his sisters or found out about his parents, from the Greek Club. To my way of thinking Hairy had left us. Later that year Nuddy, the captain left a message and told me he had seen Hairy in Caloundra, interesting, he saw his truck first, then believes it was him walking towards a bench in a seaside park, and smiling, conversing with a woman at the bench. Nuddy did not make contact, he had dripping ice creams, and their holders, to get to safety. I've seen him too, in Moffats Beach, same postcode actually I think. I had camped at GlenView to the west at the foot of the range and bought the camper down mid-morning for a swim, buy some things and get acquainted with the town named after us. I walked from Coles to the outside footpath and there was a line of traffic stopped to allow a bus to join, I saw him, in a station wagon, shaved head now, those big eyes, that big head, hairless, and smiling, smiling while talking to a girl, and that girl nursed, held, a baby. He didn't acknowledge, didn't recognise me, but I was pleased I saw him, saw him smile, a rarity before. He looked happy, I hope so. I hope it was him. Cheers Tony --- This email has been checked for viruses by AVG. http://www.avg.com