Not anymore though. I find myself less likely to scoff at the notion of cosmic balance after the following little tale.
Along with many others I found myself out of pocket after our away game at York was postponed last season due to their annoyingly lengthy interest in the Trophy. Like a fool I booked one of those on-line, special, super-dooper advance train tickets. You know, those tickets they don’t refund if, say, your football game gets rearranged and you hadn’t checked into the possibility that your opponents may be otherwise engaged when you were supposed to visit. It doesn’t help either that your Missus constantly reminds you about the possible fixture clash AFTER you’ve bloody well booked the train tickets!
That was fifty-odd notes I wouldn’t see again. Or so I thought.
A few weeks ago me and the self-same Missus were hob-nobbing at York races, as you do. With my practised eye, knowledge of the turf, familiarity with the minutiae of the Sport of Kings, and ability to stick a needle into a racecard, I managed to pick a few winners.
At the end of day, once I’d mentally deducted the entrance costs, losing bets, daytime drinks & food, and then a meal in York that evening, I found I was fifty-odd notes up on the day!
The universe, or at least my small part of it, had shifted itself back onto an even keel. I’d eventually got to York and my wallet was replenished by pretty much the same amount it had been deprived of earlier.
Ok, it’s not quite a case for Mulder and Scully, but I feel less aggrieved at the rearranged York City game now than I did a few months ago, and even less inclined to dismiss providence out-of-hand!
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