My Dad Loved His Horse Racing

You may have read my last post and thought: panache, whisky and cigars. I thought Joan Rivers had died! (God bless). 

A little about me, the author of this post. That's me, to the right, a photo taken back in the Fens where I live. Cambridgeshire. Not a million miles from the Ship of the Fens, Ely Cathedral.

I'm presently in West Palm Beach, Florida.  

Who needs a Joya Silver to enjoy life! Please look at the previous post if you are struggling with the joy-a-silver remark.

My dad loved his betting and smoked cigars. The funny thing is, that I could never smell them when he was alive (habituation). But when he passed away, I got a waft of a Castella or King Edward and it resonated in my mind. Funny how these things work. We have about 500 cigar cards of old collectors and vintage cars at home. I actually bought a couple of cigars to smoke in Dad's memory but they still sit in the drawer waiting for me to man up. 

As Rita said in the film Educating Rita (I love that film): ''Nobody smokes anymore, they've all given up because they are scared of cancer. Bloody cowards!''

Anyway, I waffle. 

My Dad who got me into racing. As the little bio says, we used to go on holiday to Caister-on-sea and my Dad went horse racing at Great Yarmouth's Eastern Festival. The three-day meeting in September. We still go there every year in memory of all those who have sadly passed away. I look up at the grandstand and know you are there watching, cheering...

You just don't know what you have until its gone. A classic reminder to stop, think, learn and love. 

Sorry for being sentimental. 

So, I have my father to thank for all my successes within gambling and online presence. I run umpteen blogs/websites and most are successful. A few have achieved over a 1000,000 page views. It's all good stuff. I mean, we all need something to do, hey. 

My niche is two-year-old horse racing. It pays to have a niche. Be specialised. I don't mean to boast, but I have never met anyone who knows more about two-year-old horse racing than myself. My twin brother, Tony, he knows lots, too. I don't talk to many people about betting. I write things on blog posts but I'm not into all this chatting lark. 

Anyway, this is me, rambling on about this, that and the other. I had intended to write a post about the sole two-year-old race at Kempton, tomorrow. 

I found myself writing this instead.