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This is possibly my favourite lucky story.  It's 2006 and it's Portugal in the World Cup.  They've scored 5 goals so far, 5 players are on one a piece, one of whom is Maniche.  They are into the knockout stage and one crazy bookie is quoting Maniche at 20/1 to be the top Portugal scorer.  That's absurd I think to myself.  If they get knocked without scoring I've got a 16/5 winner.  I get as much as I can of the 20/1 as I can and decide to hedge the bet by laying 1-0 2-0 3-0 to The Netherlands.  Portugal end up winning 1-0 and who scores it but Maniche.  That's a right result I think, Now I'm on a 20/1 shot who should be odds on.  Next up England.  Once again I lay 1-0 2-0 3-0.  The game ends 0-0 and is still 0-0 after extra time.  We have guests watching the game and I'm a bit drunk.  I make my excuses as penalties beckon and withdraw to the office.  England are odds on for the penalty shoot out ... around 1.85 I think and shortening, absurd price in hindsight and even at the time I was a bit shocked.  I lay England in the penalty shoot out, nothing to lose I say to myself.  If they win I'm on a nice 20/1 winner anyway.  For the record I'm still cheering England on in the penalty shoot out, how many chances are we going to get to make the World Cup semis.  Portugal win and my 20/1 bet on Mancihe has resulted in 3 subsequent wins and I'm still more than likely to kop at least a dead heat on my 20/1 poke.  Next up France.  There's a 3rd place play off so I sit the match out.  France win 1-0 and its likely Portugal will field fringe players in the 3rd place play off and they are playing the hosts anyway so I'm pretty confident I'm going to collect.  Nevertheless, I decide to lay 1-0 2-0 and 3-0 to Germany.  We are in the 88th minute and its 3-0 to Germany.  Then up pops Nuno Gomes to score a consolation goal for Portugal and my correct score lays have landed again.  He's not one of the 4 other players one goal so the full winnings from the 20/1 remain.

I was on Thomas Bjorn at 100s too!!

I placed a bet a few years ago on A1 Motor GP,France to win championship(not a specific race) £10 @ 50/1.
France were miles clear in the championship.
The weekends race. France trailed towards the end of the field with engine trouble,and my bet was matched.
After the race I rang up a bookie who comfirmed France were 50/1 ON to win the championship.
I had 50/1 for a 50/1 On shot.
France easily won the championship.

I guess the layer fell sick

Excellent stories, chaps - please keep 'em coming.

2010 UK Snooker Final.  Final frame, Higgins is 20 ahead but they are down to the brown exchanging safeties.  I accidentally click my mouse sending 2.5k lay on Higgins at 1.5. Then I nervous twitch because of it and send another 2.5k lay in.  Thinking **** at this point but should be able to dump it at 1.4 for 800 loss.  Fire a chunk in quickly but only about 800 gets matched.  Not ideal but all I need is a couple of safety shots and it'll get matched.  Moments after I've put my 1.4 bet in Higgins gets down doubles the brown the length of the table (hitting the jaw before dropping of course) winning him the match.  Technically my fault but rough none the less

This is a long one.

It was the 2003-4 season (I’ve just checked) Sheffield United were playing West Ham in what's now the Championship.  For reasons which will soon become apparent I can’t fully remember the exact details but this isn’t far off. 

I’m a Baggies fan (that’s not the hard luck story!) and I think Sheffield were top of the table or maybe second – anyway I wanted West Ham to win. I was also convinced that they would.  And I was prepared to put my money where my mouth was. Both teams were in good form but I wanted West Ham at 3/1.  I can’t remember the exact odds but I think they weren’t much more than 2/1 on here. Bookies were offering 2/1.  I’m pretty sure it was an evening kick-off (but not 100%) and will tell the rest of this tale of woe as if it was. 

I will digress a little here, you can skip this paragraph.  For some drinking is a pastime. I’ve always taken it a little more seriously than that.  It’s one of my better traits and if I wanted a job now (which I don't) i'd put on my CV "and I could drink you under the table you twa*".  I had a good liquid apprenticeship from a young age; children were allowed to accompany family in Working Men’s Clubs and some pubs also had rooms where they were allowed in.  I probably started drinking about 10 – “’alf-a-shondy wow ‘urt ‘im” as they used to say around here. Having a good start imbibing fine ale and inhaling other people’s smoke (I finally caught up with them at a later age) I continued these noble arts at senior school in the pub across the road.  We did have to remove our ties but I’m sure the school badge should have given the bartenders a clue as to our age!  This was all pretty amateurish stuff but I finally learned to drink when I became a member of Her Majesty’s Forces viz-a-viz The Army.  This fine establishment really hones drinking skills.  It takes years of training but I was really keen and enthusiastic often putting in extra curriculum activities.  Fast forward quite a few years and you get an idea of where I’m coming from.

I want 3/1 on West Ham but can’t get it.  A pub I used to go – fantastic pub by the way – had a bloke, who was, and still is, a good friend nicknamed the “bookie” for obvious reasons. I decided to go and see the “bookie” and have £500 quid on West Ham.  He didn’t want to know.  This was still a good few hours before kick-off.  So we did what you do in pubs.  Eventually he comes up with an idea; he knows a real bookie and gives him a call.  Real bookie doesn’t want to know. So we did what you do in pubs. With about five minutes to go before kick-off I’m miffed. But then God smiles on me and the “bookies” phone rings and the real bookie offers me £300 at 11/4.  Which I take with relish – a few pints always helps.

“Bookie” has a radio and we listen in.  Can’t remember who scored first but West Ham go 2-1 up.  Good game. So we did what you do in pubs with more exuberance.  West Ham go 3-1 up.  So we did what you do in pubs with even more exuberance.  Then I have a brilliant idea.  I’ll go home and lay West Ham on here.  I only lived about 5 minutes away so could easily make it in time to lay-off West Ham.

So get home, fire up pc, log-in.  Can’t go wrong there’s only minutes left to play – the game kicked off ages ago and will be over soon.  So click Lay for £300, safe sex is good. But something was wrong.  I’d backed West Ham but never mind no time left.   As soon as the bet was accepted Sheffield scored. 2-3 which is still is ok.  Luckily there’s absolutely no time left for kick-off and Sheffield to score. But you never know so decide to lay West Ham again.  Safe sex is good. I’m a bit miffed on clicking wrong button so promptly do the same thing again!   But game is over now; it is way, way passed time so I can finally breathe easy. But something’s happened and game is about 15 minutes behind schedule – anybody remember why?  And would you believe it Sheffield score again.

So managed to lose about £800 on click of wrong buttons. And boy did I learn my lesson: never, ever back West Ham away!

But the Baggies did get promoted that season!

Many years ago, my Dad told me that back in the 60`s he was a rep and had to drive round all day visiting places. He had a bet most days and knew the bookie well. His bet was a tanner yankee and he`d phone it in of a morning. This particular day he had a boil on his ar$e and sitting on it whilst driving was really painful. So in the afternoon he decided to go back to base rather than carry on. Unbeknown to him his first 3 selections had come in at big prices, at which point the bookie rings his base and does a deal to give my Dad £100 and call the bet quits, that was a fortune then and he took the offer. The 4th horse won and he`d have copped over a grand. If he hadnt had a boil on his a$$ the bookie wouldnt have been able to ring him as he`d have been out on the road. I dont know if this was true, but I have no reason to doubt it especially as he was always known as one of the unluckiest blokes around, I think the bookie was called Alec Griffiths and was around the Wolverhampton area. (He went to a hotel in Blackpool once and they had a fancy dress party, he decided to go as a member of the black and white minstrels, so he "blacked up" went down to the dining area, to find it was the wrong night)

Years ago, when I used to frequent betting shops, most Saturday mornings I would visit my local bookies and 'study' the Post.
I'd always place a few 50p reverse tricasts on the dogs, nice pick-up now and then.
This particular day I picked 3 outsiders, T1 @ 12/1, T2 @ 8/1, and T6 @ 6/1
Also remember there was an odds on fav, the other 2 around 6/4 and 2/1?
Race starts and my 3 break well and lead around the first bend. There's a tumble behind with dogs rolling all over the place!
Going down the back straight my 3 are left all alone, T1 leads... T6 and T2 a couple of lengths behind.
Next thing, they stop the hare... in case the dogs that fell get injured!
Would have paid out in the hundreds I reckon.

I bet 5k at evens and lost.

I once laid a horse which was a distant 20 lengths third approaching the last fence. The 1st place horse fell at the last, the second place was taken down by it and the third, my lay, cantered home.

About twenty years ago i punted on a horse in the bookies, came to the last clear in front, fell. The next race backed another horse again in front going over the last, fell.  Both were odds against when I backed them  pre-race and I was skint at the time, really skint.

Think I was nineteen at the time and had a 10p ew lucky 15.  The first 3 all won and the final horse was Cima at 20/1 in a 16 runner hcap hurdle race at Devon and Exeter.  It was just before pictures were introduced into betting shops so it was a tannoy commentary.  The commentator said it was foggy so there was literally no commentary until they jumped the last at which point it was Mountain Man and Cima neck and neck all the way to the line.  Photograph called, which seemed to take an eternity to announce, and fate decreed that Mountain Man had won.  The bet would have returned over £1500 had Cima got up, which was an absolute fortune to me at that time.

In 1995, I worked at a promoters office in Montreal.  Though we were indie, we partnered shows with a big corporate U.S. firm. 

They had a football pool with all their offices.  It was $75 to enter and there were 90 participants between all their offices.  Half went to weekly and monthly prizes, the balance $5,000 for first then second got $800, third around 500.

It was really hard-core competitive, the rankings always the first five minutes of the weekly conference call. 

As the season went on, my selections got better, my flatmates pooling their knowledge when I found myself climbing the rankings and occassionally bringing home shares in the weeklies which meant we ate better.

As I found myself in the top five, it started to get ugly.  They didn't like the idea of this 'Canadian' indie guy taking their money. 

For the first ten weeks, a receptionist in Los Angeles compiled it.  But for the last six or seven weeks, it went to their accounting office that would not share the selections.

The conference call after the second to last week found me going past two of the hardcore players (they used to bet around $2,500 a game, weekends in vegas, etc).  But what made it doubly irritating for my american counterparts is that sharing 2nd with them a woman in the Toronto office who knew little about football and had been playing 'lucky pin' most of the year (though her boyfriend was helping).  She had scored an incredible 40+ selections the past three weeks (I think I was leading with around 98? from 180

The whole week was intense, my boss at the time going that every call my name came up, etc.  It became a cross-border competition.  I then found out there was wagering on the eventual winner as well as Canada v the States. 

The last week, I sent in my selections and a few minutes later received a fax back with the grid showing our selections.

After scratching out around half the games where we all agreed, the permutations were there.

The season ended on Christmas that year and we all took the same team so it came down to the 23rd and 24th.

The 23rd knocked out the hardcore guys and results suddenly found myself competing with Sue for the big prize.  Three differences with 1/2 point spreads meant no chance for a tie and a split.

As the scores came in, it was apparent that the first two were split.  The third game was Washington and Carolina, neither team advancing to the play-offs, neither team needing a win for any reason. 

The spread was more than a field goal, less than a touch down so probably 4.5 or 5.5.  And in the fourth quarter, Washington kicked a field goal and the score was 20-10.  As the game ticked down, Washington punted deep and with little time and the season over for both teams, we started the dance around the flat.  Both benches seeing that their season was over and glad their knees held out, the usual shot of players standing with helmets in one hand, both benches dejected with the season over, the score having no meaning to Washington.  No reason for Carolina to care either.

But Carolina did care.  They wanted to finish on a winning note.  And with the clock ticking down, they ran a hurry up offense and moved up but still in their own end. Then they moved down the field.  I don't remember the sequence of plays, rushes or passes.  I do remember the silence.  Then, a long pass and.......it was completed.......and.......THEY LOST THE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!....but they scored a touchdown and beat the spread!!!!!!!!!  FUUUUUUCKKKKK.

We stared in disbelief.  There was no reason at all for it.  It was pointless.  Even the commentators made remarks that they weren't even doing it for a home crowd, etc.  But they did it.  It was unbelievable.

Second prize must have paid January's rent but left a sour taste.  The first conference call of the year starting with a cassette recording played over the speakerphone of the last few plays of the game.

My biggest hard luck story has been happening over a long time, learning about online betting sites..........basically a waste of time lol.

My first real job was as a trainee programmer with Bass Computer Services in West Bromwich. There were a few of us who bet the horses including an older guy called Brian who went to Cheltenham every year with his mates from the Brewery. This particular year (1980) they all won so they decided to play up their winnings by going to the Midlands Grand National at Uttoxeter. They hired a minibus to take them there and one of them bought along a friend who they hadn't met before. One the way home after many beers this friend started to talk. He said he shouldn't be telling them this but a trainer called Yardley based near Droitwich was setting up a horse to win first time out over the sticks. They were running him on the flat to get him fit but he would win first time out over the jumps. The horses name was Riddaragh.

Brian told us this information and at the time I used to buy a weekly paper called the Handicap Book which I kept to study previous form. I checked out Riddaragh and sure enough he had run twice recently on the flat over 2 miles at Haydock and Leicester. Both times he had started at 33-1 and his form read the same: 'slowly into stride, never near'. I then checked his up coming race entries. For a week or two there was nothing. Then the next week he was entered into about a dozen selling handicap hurdles all over the Midlands but he wasn't declared. Next week same thing happened, lots of entries but nothing doing. However the following week he was declared to run in a 3 mile selling handicap hurdle at Hereford on the Saturday (FA cup final day).

But something didn't quite stack up. Firstly Riddaragh had only run twice over hurdles (finishing with 2 duck eggs 00) so he was given automatic top weight of 12 stone. Why didn't they run him once more, get him beat and he would be carrying closer to 10 stone rather than 12? Secondly the trainer Yardley had declared another horse in the same race and the stable jockey Bill Morris was on that horse (I hadn't even heard of the jockey riding Riddaragh).

Me and my mate Pete decided to go to Hereford races anyway. I took 2 weeks wages with me (£200 in those days) but I was still uncertain whether or not to bet it. We got to Hereford racecourse with an hour to spare so went for a drink in the bar (Riddaragh's race was the first race on the card). We were in the bar when an announcement came over the tannoy: 'There is a jockey change in the first race, Bill Morris is to ride Ridarragh'. This was when we decided that the coup was on but I was still concerned about the weight.

When the horses came out into the parade ring I realised why the connections weren't bothering to get him beat again. Riddaragh was by far the biggest horse I had ever seen. He could have been carrying 13 stone and it wouldn't have made any difference! We went to the betting ring where Riddaragh was steady at 8-1. I had five £20 bets at 8-1 and was wondering whether to put the other £100 on when the ring went crazy. The 8-1 was wiped off all the boards to be replaced by 9-2 which lasted about 10 seconds. The bookmakers then chalked up 7-2 which again didn't last very long. He went to 5-2 then 2-1. At the off no bookmaker at Hereford was offering a price against Riddaragh. He was returned 2-1 second favourite but that must simply have been the last price laid.

The race started (two complete laps of Hereford racecourse). The third favourite went off in front with Riddaragh and the actual favourite stalking him in second and third. The rest of the horses were a mile behind. They passed the stands and went out on the second circuit. When they were furthest away from the grandstand the favourite was pulled up (stopped?). Riddaragh was in second place about a length behind and the jockey Bill Morris hadn't moved a muscle! By now I had already spent my winnnings on a flash new car but then it happened. Riddaragh hit the second last hurdle, completely lost his action and eventually finished lame!

To say I was gutted was an understatement! A brilliantly planned coup that very nearly came off. Later a bookmaker friend told me that over £100,000 had been placed on Riddaragh at shops throughout the Midlands so I wasn't the only one to do his dough!

I did get my £100 back in the later races but it was small compensation for what might have been...

bud - an excellent post

why

Northbouys succinctly asked WHY did betfair not payout......not answered.
I agree with Zealot betting £1800 on a 26/1 shot is a sure fire way to the workhouse.
If you had been paid out, how long would it have lasted?.....a month tops.

Tourist's not welcome.