Like all of the 5,000 England supporters in Brisbane, I was desperate for the first Ashes Test to begin, although for different reasons. The Barmy Army want their heroes to hold on to the urn, while I’m more interested in a nice little earner.
But rather like Andrew Flintoff’s team, I had suffered a disappointing warm-up to the main event. Before setting off for Australia, the Ladbrokes at Paddington Station in London tempted me into a £10 wager on Good Georgia in the 2pm at Walthamstow. She was beaten by Special Gift. The gifted always beat the good — an Ashes omen, perhaps?
A further £20 was wasted during my stopover in Singapore at the Turf Club after a visit to a local astrologer, who told me that my luck would be in bang on race time. Admittedly, he also said that I should wear colours red, blue, pink, yellow, orange and grey and having left my clown costume at home I really should have avoided punting on two nags. Indeed, had I not taken £5 off an OAP Brummie called Keith for beating his score in Super Mario Brothers on the in-flight games console, I would have had an awful start.
Arrival in Australia puts me on the straight and narrow. I place £125 on England to win a Test at 10-11, £70 on Shane Warne to be the top Australia bowler at an astonishing evens and on the spread markets I buy run-machine Mike Hussey’s series runs at 462 and sell old man Justin Langer’s at 402. The only four bets an Ashes punter should need.
Come day one at the Gabba, my excitement levels drain away with the sweat as I am jostled and bumped while 40,000 converge on the stadium. If strolling is such hard work, how will England’s bowlers fare? Not well, I figure, and I buy Australia runs at 420 before play.
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Australia get off to a flyer, although it is Langer who has taken off. He is hurting me more than England with his cuts and jabs and when he finally falls, I cheer him back to the dressing-room. Yet the misery for England continues and their fans now look desperate for it to end. I’m quite happy for it to continue.
The only two important incidents on day two came at 11.01am and 11.26. The first was notable for the sun disappearing behind a lone cloud for the first and only time. The second was when Australia passed 420, which meant that every run they scored over that total would net me £2. The Aussies who surrounded me were baffled by the Pom cheering. After all they were not to know that every crack of leather on willow was like the cash register ringing.
It meant that I had coined it in with more than £350 profit. That is what I call rising to the big occasion — more than can be said for England.