A few years ago Sunday afternoon. War Office in bath, son doing homework in the dining room.
I decided to check the pools coupon.
Fuckin hell, 24 points, and I'm standing at the bottom of the stairs screaming for wife to get down here now as we here rich.
Then the bomb shell the bastards had rigged the coupon and I had fuck all.
I threw a fuckin strop the likes of has never been witnessed by man kind since Hitler came second at Stalingrad.
So about two weeks later same kind of scenario, wife outside somewhere, son in bedroom me checking coupon.
I have threatened to kill anyone who touched it and hid it in a place even I had trouble relocating it.
Fuckin 24 points, so does the war dance and summoned the War Office to attend me on the quarterdeck (patio).
After a full enquiry to make sure no one had touched the grail, I am dribbling thinking about the size of yacht I am going to buy.
War Office says don't get excited it says premiums will be low.
Yes but their idea of low is probably £1,000,000. instead of the usual 2 or 3.
Got my check on the Thursday morning as is usual and was gutted when it was a paltry £12,765.90p.
Everyone cannot understand why I am gutted at winning £12,000 odd quid, but my reasoning was that it took me nearly 30 years to get 24 points, would it ever happen again? Would it fuck.
BUT, when Man U did the treble I did keep the faith the season before and had a £100 anti post bet.
That brought me £7,800.and I was well chuffed.
War Office took half and bollocked me for betting £100 in the first instance.