‘Don’t do it for Russia, Vlad – do it for me!’

KANGARO JACK, ALTERNATE WEDNESDAYS, IRC NEWSLETTER

Vlad ‘the Impaler’ Putin holds an economic ace with his gas supply to Europe. He holds an even bigger ace over my finances. A fortnight ago I took a sizeable punt on his invading Ukraine by the end of February combined with Melbourne Cup winner, Verry Elleegant, winning two Group 1 features during the Sydney Autumn Carnival. I have every faith in the horse, so now everything depends on Vlad.

No, I am not a warmonger, and I know the ramifications of an invasion if Ukraine goes the Full Monty. Soldiers will die in droves, the world will be terrifyingly destabilised, the Cold War will recommence, and the former, nostalgic Reds will push on to piece together the old Soviet Union.

All these things notwithstanding, I’ve got a serious bet running here!  I need Vlad to man up and step up.  

Given the worst-case scenario – a diabolical knock-on effect that brings down civilization – my Spanish girlfriend and I have been rutting like apocalyptic nutcases. If this is the last sex we will ever have, it needs to be the best. We are trying every position we’ve never attempted, including Spanish reverse vaquera (cowgirl) with a lasso. There is nothing like the 3 Vs in the bedroom – a vaquera, a vagina and Viagra. If I die of a heart attack, at least I will be in the saddle, a metaphor for all I adore in life. My last words will be ‘Happy trails … urghhh’.

Of course, we have quit our jobs. Our beach apartment is full of pizza boxes and Menulog delivery packets.  Wine bottles bestrew the floor.  Latino music tragics, we buck and bellow to a ‘who’s who’ of artists, ranging from Carlos Santana to Camila Cabello. I feel myself on fire with passion. I will not stop and cannot be stopped. Once again, I attempt an invasion of the territory between my mujer’s legs. I conquer. I writhe in ecstasy. I pass out. In my dream, I say to Putin: ‘See! See! We must both invade. And I’ll tell you a secret. Ukraine secretly wants it. She’s been missing you Russians terribly. 

‘Сделай это для России. If not, do it for me.’

I thought the invasion of Ukraine was a slam-dunk. News stories are claiming it is imminent. Yet, a few days ago, the Wall Street Journal ran a piece saying that all the smart investor money was running in the opposite direction. The big players are backing positions that exclude a hostile outcome. And now a few military units are going home! Have I done my money?

Well, they say bet on what you know, not what you don’t know. I know, I understand apparatchik Russians, whatever the colour of their flag. They are like the scorpion in the story of the scorpion and the frog. They will sting you because it is in their nature – even if it could destroy them. Putin can do nothing other than send spies to poison his opponents. This is Assassination 101 protocol. He will do it even if the upshot is the pathetic embarrassment of two assassins claiming they went to Salisbury, England, for the thrill of seeing a cathedral spire!

Of course, the Winter Olympics has already produced a reported Russian positive for doping. The alleged culprit is a 15-year-old figure skater.  It’s not like the Russian team (competing via special dispensation) doesn’t know it is being watched, but it does these things anyway. The officials cannot help themselves. They do what they always do, and that is cheat.

My bet was taken on the understanding that it is not in Putin’s nature to withdraw forces once he has provocatively deployed them. My hard-earned cash, now so boldly wagered, says he must press on. He’s only got 12 days left, however, if he’s to keep my wager alive. Start up those tanks, Vlad!

If a host of Sydney punters had bet on what they knew last Saturday, they would have come up smiling. Instead, they bet on what they didn’t know, and lost.

The Gr. 2 Apollo Stakes (WFA) over 1400m at Randwick featured my favourite horse, Verry Elleegant, returning to action after her wonderful Melbourne campaign. Punters did not know if she was fully wound up, or whether she’d be sharp enough over 7 furlongs, having now become our 3200m champ. And why push a brilliant mare with bigger fish to fry to win first time out the paddock? Punters, however, still basking in her spring brilliance, backed Verry Elleegant in to 7-2 favourite.

Meanwhile, Gr. 1 winner, track lover, on-pacer and first-up specialist, Think It Over, was allowed to drift from 16-5 to 9-2. The mount of Nash Rawiller proceeded to shellack the opposition while Verry Elleegant finished unplaced and well back.  This was a clear example of punters following their hearts not their heads.

I believe I am following my head, not my heart, in backing a Putin invasion. Deep down, I don’t want it to happen. My selfish, shallow, egomaniacal self, however, is already standing in the pay-out queue while saying, ‘Good on you, Vlad, you glorious fucking bastard!’

As for Verry Elleegant, she’ll be right mate. Unlike my Spanish girlfriend, she oozes class. In the world’s last-ever Group 1 races, she will prevail.  -IRC.

Note:  The UK’s Citizen Andrew, formerly known as Prince, has settled the lawsuit with Virginia Roberts Giuffre. The outcome, and terms, were along the lines anticipated by Kangaroo Jack in a previous column. KJ has collected his winnings and is squandering the money as you read this.

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