"PICKING 'EM." THE SPORT OF KINGS.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVII, Issue 13, 16 January 1909, Page 9

" PICKING 'EM." THE SPORT OF KINGS.

FOLLOWING THE HORSES. PUNTERS AND PUNTING. "Now is the time of the cult of the thoroughbred, and the suits of the bookmakers are loud in the land," one might say in mirthless parody. Now issues covertly from his little back room the gentle "guesser" who toils out, though he spins — spins a moving story in many a trustful ear, with a great and glorious eecrecy, delicious prophecy, and a heartless intention. For the heats of the Wellington Cup carnival begin next Wednesday, and he and his kind must be there. Now is the time also of tho happy lambs and the sedate, but wellclad sheep, who chafe behind bars and windows till tho glad day that will see them on the Trentham flat where there are golden blooms of sweet savour, if one may only light on them. And where the wool is, there will the shearers be gathered together. THE, FEVER CALLED HORSE. The fever called Horse, an exceedingly contagious complaint that has been very virulent in Auckland and such healthful regions as Ashhurst, Feilding, and Featheraton, particularly among the harder-working and more irresponsible citizens of this great country, hag been carried into our midst. There are indication?, too, that the attack will be a pretty severe one. For three days in particular it is expected that the sufferers will have a very high temperature, which, in the majority of cases, will no doubt be followed by a reaction, with low spirits and a general pessimistic tendency. But Time, the great healer, will have remedies sufficient t<» overmastei and salve the hurts. SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS. The signs and symptoms of incipient disease are everywhere noticeable. \ Not a league from Willis-street these days the shrewd people — small bunches of them — decorate thp kerbs, and each succeeding day sees the bunches put forth fresh shoots, and the kerbs new buds. A joyful camaraderie prevails ; and there is much good hximour — whose mother is hopeful anticipation — and earnest discussion ; and evermore the eternal topic is Horse. By and by there will spring up a crop of race-cards, whose keenly dissected blossoms will be found flaunted in the sun, secreted surreptitiously beneath the heavy ledger or cash book, close and handy for use when the junior partner goes out at eleven o'clock. Till the card arrive?, there is etill the ragged press-cutting whereon are things labelled acceptances, from amid which the winners taunt and mock, saying : '•Come and find me." Here, there, and everywhere, young, middle-aged, and elderly, arc searching for ihe keys to the cryptograms, so they may. hit .the totahsator or philanthropic bookmaker on the pocket-book with it. SOME SYSTEMS. For many years, in many, many lands, many men have chased that will-o'- thewisp identity called a "system," hoping one day to net it/ and with its superlative aid unlock the gates of Eldorado. But so far none has caught up with the illuminated sprite, yet the chase continues. Infatuated souls go to Monte Civlo by the turquoise Mediterranean to break the bank, but come away broken. So in the luresomo game of "picking 'cm" : "systems" are merely shadows Too often oho has to reckon with a covetous jockey'boy, a ■forestalled owner, or a bran mash. It is exciting, but every one is "up against it." To-day fond and hopeful punters are trying many expei<ients, many experiments, by which to spot the elusive winner, or, at least, a second dividend. Some, with' strange stories of past Cups hot in their minds, are eating and drinking such that they may forestall the day and be the only spectator* in a dream race. Somo are peering through newspaper files, checking and comparing performances of various selections, and thus sort out the winner by the simpie rule of three. Others again rely '(lucky people !) on the "straight griffin" from tho second cousin of the owner's wife, or one of the manrilkins themselves. (This last encourages "plunging" — a dangerous phase of the punting fever.) "He is by Pole-axe, out of Kiss-me-quick, whose ancestors came over with the Conqueror, and he can .stay longer than a windy Wellington summer, bleats another; "and," convincingly, "I know for sure the stable- is after it!" Weighty reasons for an investment! Others again resort to the familiar expedient of shutting both eyes and stabbing the list of probable starters .with a pencil, thus picking it in one. These are a few of the ' 'systems," but there are others : they all are equally good — or profitless. Yet so the game continues : win to-day, tomorrow be a large per cent, the poorer. And on Wednesday next there .will be the usual stampede to get on the "good thing," and the "good thing," 'tis more than likely, will drive the field home, her eyes sad* her tail swishing. ANTE-POST PUNTING. Hot to become rich in one striae, as it were, venturesome backers, with a mighty reliance on their Luck, scuight the benevolent odds-layer as sodfi as the weights appeared, and got on to the early r 'doubles" at a flattering price. Some were early out of their misery — when the thing* called Acceptances appeared. Those who still have their chance to come are awaiting the day of trial with a confident exterior and a close eye on the gallops. Their self-congratulation on picking acceptors is humorous ; but on choosing starters (at a long price) who subsequently, for occult reasons, become favourites, their conceit amounts to an offence. Excitedly they moon over the training notes, noting the .horse or horses of their choice. If they turn away suddenly with a drab eye, the observer may safely assume that the noble thoroughbred entrusted with their cash a°id hopes failed to break 16 for tho six furlongs, and, moreover, was punched out. If the face lights up, and the hands make a gesture of self-compla-cency, jt is uurejy because Ragged Robin, carrying his Cup weight, ran his twelve in 2.44, finishing strongly. Truly by their words, deeds, and demeanours, do we know them, the punters. "HOW WE BEAT THE FAVOUR- * ITE." Adam Lindsay Gordon (of sainted memory) is the author of this song, always much affected by the gentlemen with the large voices and capacious bags, who live, move, and have their (woll)-being by the grace or otherwise of the punting fraternity. Cheerfully, and without a murmur, the bookmaker, in an extravagant and reckless moment, will lay you 2 to l or 7 to 4 about ths* "good thing" in a field of fifteen. One must not heed it; it's just his way. And when the favourite i 3 uigh over the rails, and a weedy animal with a Roman nose and a huge dividend waiting on her efforts, pokes that nose before the judge'? eye first in the struggle over the line, tha grief of the bookmaker is deep, but easily smothered. And — let us sing again. "How we beat the favourite," to the accompaniment of the tote bells. In good sooth, uh we might say medievally, 'tis a refrain tho weai> Dunt.fir ecldora hue the heart to mm in.