It was a Saturday meet at the Lismore Races back in the early 80’s, and for once I was having a good day. The horse I was there to get on was still to run – she was in the last, and the track was a real bog heap after a week of rain. The horses were virtually scraping the paint off the outside rail, that’s how wide they’d been coming in the previous couple of races.

This only added to my confidence, as the thing I was on was a real mudlarker (or "mudder" as Kramer calls them), and my fav hoop Anthony Townsend was aboard. With everything falling my way I upped my stake on the mare to $700 on the beak, instead of the $100 I planned for.

She jumped well, 2nd from the outside and got out by two lengths, then increased her lead to three by the time they straightened and I was trying not to ruin my pants, as was the excitement. My stomach was in ribbons – I’d gotten the muddie at 10 to 1.

Townsend took her to the middle of the track and she was still two lengths in front at the 200m. Then came some grey bastard horse roaring down the outside, and drew level at the hundred. I was standing at the fifty and thought she was cooked... BUT SHE KICKED.

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Did she get it? I’m asking myself, pacing around. It looked like she got beat from where I was, but I waited for the numbers. Shaking, on the verge of my biggest collect ever, the numbers came through and SHE GOT IT!

You beautiful MILF (Mudder I'd Like to Feed... a sugar cube).

I hovered around the bookies waiting for it to be official. Gee, I wanted that money in my hand ASAP.

Ten minutes passed and still no correct wait. “What’s going on here?”

‘Oh eff off, there’s a stewards enquiry.”

I’d missed it, too busy carrying on in the excitement of the win. But what’s the problem, I wondered? There couldn’t be interference - they were nowhere near each other. She was out in clean air for most of the race.

Turns out jockeys were complaining that the three outside biarriers were pushed open early by the horses, and there was an examination of the footage to see if anyone had gotten an advantage.

Of course, it was called a no race, so my $7,000 win wasn’t awarded and I cried.

It was a big blow, because back then $7,000 was big dollars, and for a few minutes there I was pretty sure I was going to step off the track and and upgrade to a Kingswood station wagon.

It really is hard to back a winner.......................................................but I keep coming back again and again.

What a legend, and great yarn. Thanks to this week's Punter for sending it in.

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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.