I've just spent two hours of my life that I will never get back. I spent them trawling Friday's racecards trying to find something I might want to bet on. I have largely failed.
Not my fault. Once upon a time Friday was always a great day of racing. We used to have wet lips in anticipation of the start to the weekend.
I have looked at Haydock's flat card. Dreadful. The jumps card at Fakenham. Awful.
In the end I have settled for two selections down in Somerset at Wincanton racecourse. I do feel . . .
Want to read more? Log-in or sign-up to access the full post.