Flashback - The bittersweet moment of betting against your own team.

This is the first of several flashback articles telling the stories of significant wins, but mostly devastating loses.

As you may or may not know, I am an avid rugby league supporter of both the game itself and of my home town club. I can boast having missed only two Warrington Wolves matches last season, and even fewer the season before that. Having turned the legal age of 18 just before the 2008 season, and having been a gambler of sorts whilst being 17 in my first year of college (they shouldn't have put a bookies down the road to tempt us) I have three years experience of betting on sports events, matches and even the roulette machines. Not that I've learnt much.

I also used to work in a pharmacy for 18 months during my time at college, which had two bookmakers within 100 yards of the front door. One was even next door. It will come as no surprise that I spent a fair bit of my wages in either the Ladbrokes or the regional David Pluck bookmaker. One Saturday, before arguably the biggest game of the year for Warrington away to St Helens, I took a trip next door to place a bet against my own team. For St Helens to win by a margin of 1-5 points came out at 16/1 odds. A £2.50 wager paid out profit of £40.

Shock, shock, horror, horror!

I couldn't separate either team at the time, and the results previous didn't look good in Warrington's favour. Since 2005, Warrington have come so close to ending one of the worst records in rugby league. In thirteen season of Super League, Warrington have beaten St Helens only once. But on two occasions since 2005 we had been narrowly beaten. At home that year we lead 16-4 with ten minutes to go until full time. Saints scored three quick tries, one of which was on the final play of the game, and we lost 18-16 at home. I sulked like a baby for days.

Eight rounds later, the reverse fixture was even more emotional. Having outplayed them for over 75 minutes, they came back at us again  scoring two tries and two conversions. In Manchester United style fashion, serial wanker Sean Long kicked over a drop goal to break all Warringtonian hearts in the final minute to end the scores 31-30. I didn't speak until the next day.

Back to the topic in hand and with the betting slip firmly in my wallet, I watched as the team in the primrose and blue shirts battled hard for 76 minutes, leading 16-10 at that point. All thought of my earlier bet had disappeared. I wanted us to finally beat them and celebrate like there would be no tomorrow. I wanted the sweet taste of victory not had at Knowsley Road in over thirteen years. Then it all went sour. Lee Gilmour went in next to the posts for one of the softest tries ever seen in a competitive game of rugby league to level the scores at 16 all. Then it was drop goal time. The magic one point could sealed the game for wither side with less than two minutes remaining. Warrington stand-off, Lee Briers takes a shot at goal, only for the ball to sail wide of the post. A minute later Saints were at the other end of the pitch. Log received the ball from a twenty metre pass directly backwards, and it all looked so similar as he drop kicked the ball on the 40 metre line.

Like in a cheesy Hollywood sports film, the ball took an age to reach the sticks. Would he miss? Would it fall short of the crossbar? Would the wind blow it off course? The answer was a resounding no, as the ball hit the groud on the other side of the crossbar after 41 metres in the air. With three seconds left to play, Warrington needed a miracle. It never came. I shed a small tear as we stood there is disbelief. Those bastards had done it again!

I was dropped off at the bookies next to where I work, the darkness having settled in hours ago made the shop stand out from across the road as a dragged my feet to receive the winnings. It was a strange moment. £40 at the time meant a lot to me. It meant I could afford to travel to Castleford in two weeks time and see us get beat 44-24. The manager was the only person in at the time. He saw my dejected face as I strolled in wearing my Warrington shirt and let out a small laugh and a smile. He wasn't smiling as I produced the slip to claim my winnings. His emotions turned to both surprise and disappointment as he handed over the money.
"Don't be sad, at least you've won some money over it" he said. "What would you have wanted, the money or the win?"
"The win," I replied.
He asked, "Then why did you place the bet against Warrington?"
I turned around and said firmly, "I know they'd lose because I support them."

Its sod's law, isn't it.

That damning match report can be seen here at www.sportinglife.com