I'm writing this prior to the two Thursday evening selections racing.
Sainted won for us by day, but at an odds on price.
I have just spent hours this afternoon - several hours I tell you - looking at all the racing tomorrow, studying the form, looking for something to get excited about. I may as well have gone to bed, or for a very long walk.
I can sum up the racing tomorrow in one word. Crap!
Go to the pub, for a walk or to bed (but not the same one as me.)
There are days like these, these . . .
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