I don’t like AFC Wimbledon. There I’ve said it. They are in my imaginary little black book.
Why? Well that’s easy. They have cost me money on several occasions. They seemed to be the team that would always let down a weekend football bet. Four results out of five right and who’d fall over on their faces? AFC flipping Wimbledon.
I gave them several chances. I’m a fair man. But as convinced as I’d be they had to win a certain game they would always contrive to flush away the certain winnings I would collect. Enough was enough, they went in the book. And I rigidly stick to my guns, they never get placed in any bet I have now. They’re dead to me.
A weekend football bet for me now is a religion. And I’m not alone am I? The summer months were baron. No summer football tournament to pit your wits against the bookmakers. Just endless weekends of barbeques where the football loving attendees would gather in corners predicting the upcoming season and what transfers would take place within their clubs. My Gooner supporting brother-in-law with a complete straight face telling me Pep Guardiola would replace Wenger. Me telling him a) he was a mentalist and b) Pep hadn’t even heard of Arsenal.
Now I’m not a serious gambler, I’d only bet on horses or dogs if I were at a meeting. It’s no use me betting on them otherwise as I know not the difference between a thoroughbred and Paddy McGinty’s goat. I may as well stand in the middle of the high street and set fire to my money.
But football? We know don’t we? We know stuff. How hard can it be? We watch it, live it, breathe it. This will be like taking candy from the proverbial baby.
So, the routine. I love the routine. Depending on social commitments, either Friday evening or Saturday morning that is when the plan of action is drawn up. Every week is the same. As I know football it will just be a simple task of sitting down and deciding how much money I shall win. Getting through the working week is made bearable by the fact you know that at the end shall come this dual of wits.
Bookmaker app open on my phone with the fixtures, tables up on my tablet. Notebook and pen to write down my bets. This will be easy, right?
Then comes the deliberation. I’ll make a list of ‘dead certs’ and a list of ‘maybe’s’. Depending on how long the dead cert list is determines how many maybe’s will get used. Decision time. I’ll usually do 2 bets, ranging from either trebles to maybe a fivefold. Place the bets on bookmaker app, write them down on notepad and we’re set.
I have then also taken to getting my wife to predict some results. She will be the first to admit her football knowledge is limited. When watching a game her usual phrase of choice will be “Go on sweetheart” (she’s a Pompey girl bless her). I will take four of the hardest games to predict. Ones I wouldn’t touch with a bargepole. It’s just to see how the worlds of so called knowledgeable and not will compare. I’ll place a bet for her because by god the accumulated odds are usually pretty damn good.
Now placing the bets is only half the fun. The other half is watching them unfold. And that can only be done with Soccer Saturday on Sky Sports. The perfect blend of five people sat together discussing football like we all do. They’re our friends. They speak our language. Plus of course hoping our very own Bianca Westwood delivers the goods from her match.
Held together perfectly by the chairman, Mr Jeff Stelling. Imparting facts at implausible speed as we rush around the grounds. Watching the videprinter make and break hearts with every goal reported.
Now (clang, name drop alert) I’ve been fortunate to meet Jeff a few times as his son and my stepson have played against each other at youth level for a few seasons and he genuinely is one of the nicest people you’ll meet. The same off screen as on. Very friendly and very funny. I’ve even seen him run the line resplendent in Sky Sports jacket.
So Saturday afternoon unfolds as you find yourself cheering teams on you have no interest in bar from bringing home your sure fire winning bet. You wait for the next line to appear on the videprinter. Will it be that all important goal at Macclesfield or Arbroath?
You curse goals that go against your bet and cheer stupidly as Rochdale take the lead to show you knew exactly what you were talking about when you placed them in your accumulator. The ebbs, the flows. The teams who come back from 2-0 down, the teams who snatch last minute victories, the teams that throw away leads. When you have money on them it’s important.
You get to 4.48 and full time results start to appear on the videprinter of dreams. You start chanting and praying for an injury time goal at Plymouth. Why oh why did you put them in the bet? But they were on the ‘dead cert’ list. They weren’t a ‘maybe’!! You cross everything than can be crossed to ensure Partick Thistle retain their 1-0 lead.
The reckoning hour arrives. Winner or loser. Does it matter? No it doesn’t because you’ve just had a couple of hours of pure, unadulterated entertainment. Highs, lows and all points in between.
So I hear you ask, how have the first couple of weekends gone? Well I’ll tell you.
Last weekend I found myself unable to sort my bets out on the Friday, and having got up late on Saturday I had to rush off to Southampton for a matinee performance of Jersey Boys with my wife, mother and father-in law (can you guess which two out of the four arranged that for the first day of the new season!)
At lunch before the show I was excusing myself as I spent 5 minutes frantically throwing a couple of bets on. No thought, no planning, gut instinct. Long story short, one bet came in. Happy days. The wife bet? Three out of four correct, Torquay letting her down for a rather nice shopping trip.
This week though, all different. Time to sit down, think, consider first weekend results. If I had won last week on no preparation, this week would be a breeze! One team let me down on both bets. Eastleigh and Tranmere Rovers you have been warned. Don’t let me have to write your names down in my imaginary book!