Our legendary Punter, let’s call him Wacko Jacko for privacy reasons, was at the Doomben races when he sidled up to a bookie for a speculative small each way bet.

I wasn’t confident so thought two bucks on the fifty to one pop would do and get a big day off to a flying start.

I gave the bagman a pineapple and he gave me back a tenner.

“Where’s me other thirty four bucks, you clown? I gave you a fifty so should get forty six dollars change”, I asked, or words to that affect.

“Eff off, you said twenty bucks each way” he responded, handing me my ticket.

Of course the nag didn’t run a drum and I’m out forty clams instead of four. So there was only one thing for it, strut up to the bar for a few amber ales, and started to dissect the form.

“That’ll do” I said, coming across a 7/2 chance certainty that was second up after a spell.

I went to the same bookie, to test his hearing, and this time only pulled a five buck note from my pocket so he couldn’t stooge me again. Anyway, the beautiful mare got up and I went back to collect my HUGE $17.50. (I was rebuilding my kitty).

To my surprise this rogue trader grabbed my ticket and pulled out 3 x pineapples, a twenty, and five dollar note. “This absolute joker is giving me one hundred and seventy five smackers” – thought. And sure enough, he paid me out $175. A good 157.50 more than he should’ve, and more than comfortably remunerated me for the time he shafted me, earlier.

“Thanks buddy” I said, not feeling one bit guilty. I might’ve told him had he not told me Eff Off the other time.

I hurried back to my mates and them all a sherbert on the bookie.

Cheers, Wacko Jacko, we don’t just want to hear big financial wins, we always like to hear about wins for the good guys.

Paul Morello

I'm Paul, and I model my life, laugh and hair on Mark Bosnich. There's no animal, athlete or team that can carry the weight of my money.