JOSEY WALES AND THE OUTLAWS AT AINTREE

I got back in the car and drove to the other hotel car park, entered via the sliding doors, and got booked in.

Note to self :  Explain to the apparently highly educated JW the difference between ‘right’ opposite, and ‘diagonally’ opposite. 

Up to my room, and for a pleasant change it wasn’t the furthest one from the lift.

Unpacked and had a cuppa, then went outside for a smoke.

Had a chat with the bird at the reception desk and bet her that my key card would pack up within 24 hours, and told her that Junior would run well in the National, and that Synchronised wouldn’t win. 

50% is better than fack all

Lounged around watching telly until 6-45 then I met Josey in the bar.

DINNERTIME
How the fack can cod and chips (£10-95p) cost more than steak and chips (£10-45)

I never have steak on the first night away (ritual) so settled for Haddock and chips (£7-45)

Cod is 50% more expensive than Haddock  ? ? ?

Josey asked the waitress for a lamb shank !! and he had only known her for 2 minutes, the bounder !!

Katie had steak, and asked about my fish.

I asked about her steak (another ritual over)

An early night was had by all as were to depart at 8-40 a.m. for the course.

Like me, Arthur and Katie don’t do a fried breakfast, but Josey was in the restaurant as I WALKED (yes I can walk) over to Sainsburys for some milk for my WEETABIX at about 7-30 a.m. 

Mrs TMP had packed my mini-fridge in my holdall,  so I had to get a one pint plastic bottle of milk as a two-pinter won’t fit in the fridge.

The garage only sold 2 and 4 pint bottles so I had to walk an extra 50 yards to the supermarket ffs.

It’s a big supermarket, so, to avoid walking around looking and save time, and also my energy,  I asked the nearest member of staff, who was a man of about 30 -35 years of age,  he was just inside the door, arranging flowers…

‘Morning‘ I growled, in my dulcet tones ‘could you point me towards the milk aisle please.’ 

‘Yes sir, follow me.‘  he said.

If he had said ‘Walk this way’ ..

I’d have said ‘If I do I’ll  be arrested ’  . . . (the old ones are the best)

‘Seventh aisle on the left’  would have sufficed,  but he escorted me all the way, and then he spread his arms to show me the display ‘Single pints on top, 2s in the middle, 4s on the bottom, a choice of semi-skimmed, skimmed  and full fat.’ 

I said  ‘Ta mate,‘ and he wandered off, back to his flowers…bless him… 

Off to the course at 8-40 and into the thieving scousers car park (£20 a day) opposite the course gates at 9-20 a.m.

Only operating one pitch on Thursday meant that not a lot of stuff had to be lugged in.

We were first in the queue, but even though they open the gates to bookies at 9-30, there was no sniffer dog there to have a go at our stuff. 

’It’s on its way’ the woman said. 

By the time it took to get there it must have been ‘on its way’ from facking Haydock.  

Once we got in, it’s a long walk to the Queen Mother Stand, via the ‘drinking and catering village’. That’s the tidiest it looks all day, it’s a right mess by the time we get out.   

Thursdays are pretty quiet at this meeting. 

Alex Ferguson walked by our pitch with 4 others who meant nothing to me either.  I should have taken a photo as it’s the only  timer I’ve seen him NOT  chewing gum.

I asked Arthur if we would lay Big Bucks,  he said  ‘Yes we’ll lay that here. No worries.’

As betting got under way,  Arthur accommodated the first fearless punter to step form the crowd…he had a tenner on it at 1/5

Another one had two and a half quid each way ffs

As the race  went off Arthur said ‘ I told ye we’d lay it.’  and smiled

Back at the hotel I sat in my room and sorted out the days pay-outs before dinner.

Steak and chips was wolfed down, and after some light hearted chat Josey went to bed early-ish as he usually does,. Me and Katie went outside for a smoke while  Arthur sucked on a nicotine lozenge of some sort.

I had consumed my quota of drink for the night, a pint and a half of orange juice, and at about 11-00 p.m. I hit the sack.

As if working in the rain doesn’t put you in a bad enough mood we come to the

ATTEMPTED SCAM OF THE MEETING
There are only two ways a paid ticket can find its way into the hands of a member of the public, in this instance, a scamming facking scouser, what a surprise !!

Either he squeezed between me and the bookie on the pitch next to us, and took the ticket from the payout spike, or it stuck to my fingers, which were wet with rain, and when I thought I had put it on the payout spike, it was stuck to the back of a wad of £20 notes

Anyway, we paid over £300 on a ticket on the winner.  A few minutes later this scouser appears with a winning ticket for the same amount.  I took it off him and immediately noticed that there was a hole in the middle. I checked the payout list, there was only one entry for over £300 I said ‘This has been paid already, and there’s a hole in the middle of the ticket, it’s come from our spike. ‘

The reply, in the best English the coont could manage  was ‘Wha’’

I repeated what I had said.

‘This is my bet. How can it be paid out ?’  he said, with his voice getting louder.

I showed him the payout list and the only entry for over £300, and that had already been paid, and crossed though.

Jenny turned around and told him  ’ Sir’  (she’s much more polite than me)  this was paid a few minutes ago, it has a hole in the ticket where it has been spiked. We can’t pay it again.’

(We can, but we facking won't)

He got more vociferous as he was trying it on, while I said quite calmly. ‘I’m not paying it twice, go and find the ring inspector.’

He could see he was getting nowhere despite all his shouting, and moved away from me and started harassing Jenny.  In the issue of the ticket going to and fro, he tore it so that the hole in the middle was no longer visible.   

Jenny explained to him about 4 times what had happened but he wasn’t having it, and continued shouting as if one of us was going to buckle under and pay him. 

After a few more answers all politely preceded by ‘Sir’, Jenny told him to go and find the ring inspector or call the police.   

He walked off and we never saw him again, the scamming coont.

All the dogs of war had £5 wins on  long odds on  shots,  and when they come to get their wonga,  if you say ‘it’s included’ to the often asked question  ‘Do  I get me stake bacchhhh’ they look at you as though you are mad. 

Which I am

After  the coont of a scouser had gone and the payout queue had died down, I  decided it was nosebag time, and was looking forward to a smoked ham and mustard sandwich.

I rummaged about under the table, because that’s where I had left it,but it was gone.

I espied the empty packet on Josey’s side of the joint, on the floor.

I got just reward  for Josey nicking my chocolate a few years ago. He had eaten a double ham sandwich, but the one meant for him, that he missed, was a triple chicken sandwich.

Apart from rain, the rest of the days business went without hitch.

How do you get somebody to come up a good 45 minutes after the last race with a winning ticket ? 

Easy ! You bag up all the coins,  wrap up the cash,  put it in the case, then you zip up the case and get ready to go.

Then, and only then,  will somebody come for money, without fail.  He got paid from my pocket, but I told him not to worry if any of the  tenners had the same serial number !! 

He laughed, but he still checked them.

Another nightmare dragging the trolley over the ‘Plastic Ocean’ and when we got to back to the hotel I laid out all the payout slips everywhere before I could sort them out, as races 1, 2, 3, and part of race 4 were all wet.   The table and the beds were covered in tickets.  I was lucky that  it didn’t rain for  races 5, 6 and 7 !!!

I checked my horse bet results -  Darlan 7/4 winner, then something that was beaten at 11-10 in an amateur riders handicap, by a facking 16-1 shot   - and a non-runner.

Saturday morning was the usual rush as all our cars were off towards Aintree, as nobody was coming back this way to drop us off at our cars.   

First, started calling Richie, then over to Sainsburys for some WEETABIX. Where a young filly built like Schwarzenegger escorted me to the brekafast cereals. Back to the hotel, called Richie again, scoffed 4 WEETABIX, washed up the spoon and bowl, called Richie again, followed by going outside for a smoke. Came back in at 8-10 and called Richie again.  He got up this time, which left him half an hour to get washed, dressed, eat, smoke and polish his boots.  He was leaving with Arthur and Katie at 8-40.

Then the wrestling match to get all the stuff back in to my suitcase that Mrs TMP does so easily. An extra fight trying to get the mini-fridge back into my holdall, I’m facked if I know how Mrs TMP got it in there because it was a really tight fit. A check round the room to make sure Chairman Cat had left nothing behind, and off to get some petrol.

Some of us weren't leaving until 9-15. Me in my car, Ann and Julie in Anns car, were going to follow Jenny and Matt in her car, as she has sat-nav, and Maghull station is about 2 miles off the main road. Parking is free, and the return train to the course costs £2-70p. It's only 2 stops, but it’s a lot cheaper than paying a scouser £20 to park in a garage car park.

The M.O.T. bay is closed for the day  as there’s no way you can get a car in there once the car park has filled up with bookies. And all at £20 per car,  per day. I’d guess that he squeezes 25 cars in there, which  equates to £1,500 for 3 days, for doing nothing.

As some of you know, and those who don’t are about to find out, my car boot was the subject of an attempted break in about 2 years ago. They facked the lock right up, and it had to be removed. 

My insurance company arranged for my car to go their selected garage, and  it was gone for about 5 days. When I got it back, not only was the lock not repaired, but the car had leaf marks all over the paint work where the daft bastards has parked it under trees and not moved it.

Anyway, I phoned the insurance company who said that the garage couldn’t get the parts to repair my lock as the car was too old.  They apparently don’t do searches of scrap yards, so I was getting the money instead.   

I got a cheque £192-43p, but my boot was facked.

I made a hole in the bodywork behind the number plate and got to the lock. I fixed a coat hanger to it and the last inch curls around the number plate. It’s a stiff  lock and I can‘t pull the inch long coat hanger with my fingers, so I use a pair of pliers. 

The car battery has a short circuit somewhere and I’m facked if I can find it.  If I leave it connected, over a few  days, it drains all the life out of  it. Rather than take a chance so far from home, I lock the car, when I can be bothered, then disconnect the battery and close the boot.

When I come back to the car the keys won’t open the doors, so I have to use the pliers to open the boot, then reconnect the battery. 

So, the pliers have to stay in my pocket.

This provided amusement at the gates to the course.

Red

Spot the difference between Beauty and the Beast

I walked along the tarmac parallel to the course towards the joint but got stopped by a security guard at the entrance to the County Stand.

‘I’m sorry sir, you can’t come in without a badge.’ he said.

He was a young asian, so I wasn’t going to waste my time with ’I  don’t need no steenking badges.’

‘I work for a bookie’ I said ‘He’s got my badge.’ and pointed into the enclosure 

‘Okay sir, sorry, but I have to ask.’ and he let me in.

Jenny arrived about 15 minutes later

I asked ‘Did you get stopped at the entrance?’

She smiled and said ’No’

If you’re in the least bit unsure about whether I’m beauty or the beast, Betfair isn’t the site for you !!

After a cuppa and a smoke, I ventured into the den of iniquity that is the Betfred shop, and had an each way treble.

As I came out  of the side door to Betfred, as it leads to the toilets, I saw 3 young men in suits carrying pints of beer, come out of the janitors room, which is in between the mens khazi and the disabled khazi.  Strange place, Aintree.

We got everything ready and Josey started taking bets on any race from noon onwards

Some cloth-eared scouse bint had a bet on Lifestyle and when she came for her money, as I was paying her out, she asked me to smile (I thought I was smiling) and she held up her camera phone. 

I said ‘Smiles are a fiver each‘  but she took the picture anyway

At least she can put it on the mantle piece and keep the kids away from the fire

I have just remembered that I spoke to one bloke on Friday after the 6th race, and asked him how he was getting on.

‘I’m having a good day’ he said ’I’m level, normally I do my money, but I’ve had fun today.’

‘Are you here tomorrow?’ I asked

‘NO!!’ he said firmly ’Everton v the Pool, that beats horse racing any day of the week.’

‘Who do you support?’ I asked

‘I’m a blue ’ he said

And even somebody who dislikes football as much as me knows that means Everton

‘Family day out? ’ I asked

‘Not really‘ he said ’our family are half blue and half red.’

I bet that was fun at tea time

Thank fack that Maghull is the opposite way to Liverpool.

The number of people on the platform and stairs for a Liverpool bound train looked like London Underground in the rush hour, and was undoubtedly a perverts paradise. 

You were going to be squashed up against somebody whether you liked it or not, and if you’re into that sort of thing, you may as well pick a half decent looking bird for it, as most of them were to drunk to notice anyway. 

But unlike London Underground trains that arrive every 3 minutes  in the rush hour, there’s at least a ten minute wait between trains here, so they really do cram themselves in like sardines.

TMP

You dont know how lucky you were. I could have been on the firm fri and sat!!!

unfortunately, i alreday had plans.

We'd have had a laugh Tel

By the sound of things, Lizzie and Jenny may not be able to make it to Cheltenham next year.

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what happened to the bird - she's not there? 

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