Look first of all I'd like to be honest with you, I'm not going to claim I "stumbled" upon some "crazy secret system" that nobody knows. In fact, probably more than a few people know what I'm talking about in this article. The truth is that I've been playing the Preakness among many other horse races, for at least 15 years.
The Preakness is the first throroughbred race I ever attended, back in the 1990's. I had played at harness tracks, having been introduced to that at a young age, but had never been to a throroughbred track until 1996.
That year, my good friend and fellow horseplayer convinced me we should go to Pimlico for a big infield party and some big horse races would break out at some point. I didn't know or care much about anything except the infield party and thought it would be fun. We brought a 12 pack and settled in.
Early in the afternoon on the way up, we tuned in to the Baltimore rock station and were hearing all kinds of live music from some of our favorite bands such as Pearl Jam. We were just about pissed off at the fact that we missed some of these bands live, only to show up and find it was just a DJ playing live cuts, and the few local bands on deck hadn't even started playing yet.
I was young and after the party was over and horse races had broke out, I was wondering why Louis Quatorze had won the Preakness and we hadn't bet on him. After that I began some more analysis and started using some figures from Brisnet to help me analyze the races.
A couple years later I liked Charismatic in the Kentucky Derby, among like 10 other horses, but failed to have the right trifecta boxes since I had little clue what I was doing. I liked him in the Preakness as well, still at good odds since people thought his Derby victory was a fluke, but again failed to have the right trifecta when Badge showed up. But at that point I realized that a pattern was emerging.
Eventually I figured this stuff out, although hard-headed about it and unwilling to part from numerical analysis from numbers that I didn't even know how were calculated. I found out it didn't really take a any magic numbers or even much analysis for a basic wagering strategy.
With few exceptions, the Preakness is one of the easiest races to bet. Take the top (4-5) horses from the Kentucky Derby that run at Pimlico two weeks later, and undoubtedly 2 of them will finish in the top 4, in fact, usually the top two horses from the Derby will finish 1-2 in the Preakness. It's really that simple.
After that you do have to put in some analysis to figure out which "outsiders" will infiltrate the trifecta, or possibly even win the Preakness, along with the Kentucky Derby contingent. There are various tools to use to accomplish this but I normally use one I invented.
Unsatisfied with numbers from various other people and organizations with their secret calculations that I did not understand, I decided to make algorithms to create my own numbers and put them into what I call the Grid.
Last year, the Grid gave me Preakness winner Shackleford at 13-1 as the top Speed and Power horse. It was an obvious key horse for me and automatic win bet at those kind of odds. Plus, he was a top four Derby finisher. Apparently people forgot he finished 4th not 14th in the Derby, which was very respectable for a frontrunner.
Combine him with Derby winner and obvious favorite Animal Kingdom at 2nd, and take Astrology as an improving horse with 4th best Early Pace according to the Grid in 3rd place, and you have a very easy trifecta payout. Add Dialed In, the best Late Pace horse coming off a disappointing but respectable 8th place Derby finish, and you have a very easy superfecta.
This is what I call the anatomy of a perfect Preakness exotic bet. You take any of the top 4 Derby finishers that are running at Pimlico, and key them and 1 and 2, get the "outsider" that didn't run in the Derby at good odds, and add another strong contender, usually from the Derby, such as a good late runner for 4th.
You would be surprised how many times the Preakness plays out this way. Often the same horse will win the Preakness that won the Derby, which has happened less in the last few years but they still often finish in the money. And in fact the top two in the Derby often run 1-2 at the Preakness.
So using the top Derby horses is obvious but where will you find the "outsiders" that will undoubtedly take up a spot or two in the superfecta? Well that is tough to come up with by yourself. Normally you will need more of an advanced handicapping tool for that, which is why I use the Grid. I can tell you that the outsider is almost always at odds from 12-1 to 15-1 so that narrows it down.
The year before last the Grid of course gave me the Preakness winner, but only at 2-1 and not much value there, obviously. But also it gave me 11 of 13 winners that day including some nice long shots that provided good exotic payouts.
Of course, since I wrote this, it could just happen that the top Derby horses will finish 1-4 in the Preakness, and it wouldn't surprise me at all if that happens. Especially since of my top 6 Derby winning contenders, out of 20, 4 of them finished 1-4 in the Derby.
So now you know the basic strategy now for betting the Preakness. You just need to find the right long shot or two to add to your obvious Derby contenders for some nice exotic payouts. If I were you, I'd use the Grid to get them, but that's just because it always comes through for me in these situations.

In Farhan O'Rourke's opinion, the hardest part about being a leprechaun was the money laundering.
When he was young, his father told him keeping his identity concealed would be the hardest part of his life, what with all the hunters and blackmailers looking to steal his stash. His father had been right, though the advice was mostly related to how to disguise habits and appearances. The man never would have guessed that in today's age of technology, a leprechaun was ten times more likely to be outed by a financial auditor than a bounty hunter.
Farhan was as close to a modern day 'chaun as one could find these days. At 5'6'', he was tall for his kin, and thanks to his local barber, his dyed hair was now closer to the color of mud than his family's signature red. He didn't much care for the color green, and never wore it out unless he really needed luck on his side, and even then he was discreet about how much of the suggestive color he flashed.
To this day, nobody had guessed the true nature of Farhan by his appearance, not even his own girlfriend.
Disguises were easy. But the criminal side of it all? The lies and deceit, the back room deals with shady brokers, the constant evasion from the probing eyes of regulators, always covering ones tracks, every financial decision calculated and meticulously planned, all so he could spend his own gold? Now that was the true plight of today's leprechaun.
And moving 'chaun gold was a dangerous game to play. In the last year alone, twenty five of Farhan's kind had been outed while being investigated for suspicious financial activity. To his credit, nobody was better at pushing pots of gold into banks than Farhan O'Rouke. Forever the entrepreneur, he had made a career out of helping other leprechauns move their ancient stashes into the digital age undetected.
Farhan claimed he hadn't been caught because he was careful. His friends told him that no amount of care could protect him from the age of information. They told him he was just lucky.
He didn't argue with that point. After all, he worked extremely hard for his luck.
That's enough, Farhan reminded himself, looking out over the giant racetrack before him, a giant oval of trampled mud. From somewhere above him, an announcer's voice crackled from an outdated PA system, rattling off the names and numbers of race horses like an auctioneer. No more worrying about business on your day off.
It was a typically overcast New Jersey day, alternating between heavy drizzle and outright downpour, the gray of the sky seeping down to mingle with the crowd shivering inside their raincoats. Necks craned up over a roof of umbrellas to catch a glimpse of their chosen horse, all lost in an indecipherable cloud of haze rounding the far bend. The mass of bodies slowly retracted away from rain, huddling together under the giant overhang shielding the grandstands, as a mist blurred the race horses into dark, dancing shadows.
From inside the folds of his coat, Farhan felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. That would be Elizabeth Gregory again, the nosy prude from the Securities Exchange Commission.
Christ almighty, he thought, switching his phone to 'Do Not Disturb'. I couldn't even buy bloody Apple stock without her sniffing up my arse.
Elizabeth was most likely auditing the flurry of trades he had brokered on Friday, minutes before the stock market had closed. He hadn't even been working for a client then, the trades were simply a favor for his family; liquidating uncle Connor's horde of gold so he could put his dear, sweet daughter through college.
Connor told Farhan he was a blessing from god. Farhan told Connor this was the last time he was sticking his neck out for his lazy, careless ass so his daughter could get plastered for four years at a community college.
It had been a simple manuever – Farhan had opted to move his uncle's life's savings via a series of investments into a fake company named Foulchemy, officially registered as, “A Delaware-based, eco-friendly research firm which aims to develop the science of turning fecal matter into precious metals.”
Compared to his past endeavors, the transaction had been minuscule, but Elizabeth had flagged it anyways. That was just the kind of person Elizabeth was, it seemed.
Farhan had bought off Elizabeth's predecessor at the SEC with a one-off bribe of a little less than less than twice his hourly rate. The poor bastard made shit for hourly wages, had three mouths to feed back home, and hated his job, a trifecta of circumstance that made turning a blind eye to Farhan's financials the easiest decision of his life.
All was well until the poor sod was laid off without warning, and Elizabeth had stormed in like a hurricane and taken over all his open cases. Farhan quickly discovered she had been far less receptive to his friendly 'gifts' and was going to be pain in his ass. Now it seemed she had taken bothering him outside of her working hours, too. Some people needed to get a life.
The leprechaun was brought back to the present by the boom of the racing announcer's voice, which was now frantic with excitement. The crowd started to cheer, as a shale-gray filly broke out of the pack of racers ike a heat-propelled missile.
“And Wailing Banshee, the 33-1 longshot, takes a commanding lead!”
Farhan's heart quickened as he heard the name. That's it lass, keep it up.
As the horse picked up momentum, Farhan felt something ancient stir within his chest, like an energy roused from a deep slumber. An energy that thrummed through the veins of his arms and tickled his ears. Farhan knew the sensation well; it was the old blood in him, and now it was gracing him with a bit of fortune.
It seemed with every beat of his heart, the gray horse distanced itself from the field by another length. He was so concentrated on the horse pulling away that he barely felt the punch on his right shoulder. “Fookin' hell Farhan, look at 'er go!”
Farhan turned to face his girlfriend Maddie Reilly, her red curls bouncing in front of her freckled face excitedly. He gave her a wink and a sheepish smile. “I told ya to pick that pony, no? She's got some fire in her belly, that one. Saw her throwin' around the stable-hands before the race and knew she was mine.”
“How much you put on her, anyway?”
Farhan produced a lighter and a crumpled pack of cigarettes him his pocket. He shook one out of the pack and sparked a light on his first try. “Seven.”
“Dollars?”
“Seven dollars?” He laughed. “Was I was bussed here by my retirement home? Do I carry around a coin purse? Is my name Eleanor? I didn't put seven dollars on that demon horse. Seven hundred, woman.”
Maddie's eyes widened. “Seven fookin' Benjamins on a longshot? You're daft.”
“What's so daft about trusting my gut?”
“I can't even trust my gut with seafood.” She gave him a poke in the ribs. “Looks like drinks are on that magic gut of yours tonight, yah lucky bastard. And I'd fancy a nice steak dinner too, now that I think of it.” She winked at him. “Treat your woman right and you might even get lucky again tonight.”
Farhan took a puff of smoke and frowned. “Don't jinx it, Maddie.”
“What's there to jinx?” The beast stormed down into the final stretch, at least fifteen lengths ahead of its closest pursuer. “No one's catchin' her.”
You can always jink it, Farhan thought uneasily, letting the smoke from the cigarette curl around his face. Farhan's father had taught him that being lucky was not a gift, but a skill that took years of practice to master.
Superstition was a powerful force of nature, and putting in the legwork made all the difference. People like Farhan did well with the ponies because they manipulated circumstance into their favor. As a devoted believer, Farhan was always careful around breakable, reflective surfaces. He avoided the cracks in the sidewalks at all costs. And he always registered new shell companies in groups of three.
Wailing Banshee thundered toward the finish like a horse hearlding the apocalypse, teeth gnashing, eyes wild, but nobody but Farhan was watching. The crowd was already starting to disperse out of the grandstand, back towards the betting windows to wager on the next race. Maddie tugged at his arm to follow, but Farhan stood planted in place. His veins were thrumming again, but this time the sensation filled him with a sense of malaise that made his skin itch and tingle.
“Wait Maddie,” he said, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his wallet. He began to rifle through the flaps, searching for the brittle four leaf clover pressed into one of the numerous leather sleeves.
And then it happened.
Wailing Banshee stumbled, nearly lost its balance, and then came up lame. The jockey ignored the shrill cry and whipped at the horse's flank, urging it forward to finish the race, but the animal was no longer taking orders. It had been spooked by something and veered off the track, then jumped over the barrier and into the enclosed infield grass.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd and the announcer's voice crackled back to life. “And Wailing Banshee has removed itself from the field, and now this race is still up for grabs again! Here they come, down the stretch now. It's a mad dash for first place, neck and neck...and...it...is...Black Cat! Black Cat wins by a hand! At 13-1 odds, the rookie takes first in a shocking turn of events!”
The grandstands were roaring, the world was spinning, and Farhan livid.
He unleashed a barrage of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush, as a of crew stable hands rushed out after the rogue horse, which was now trying to buck its jockey off its back like a bull. Maddie stood frozen beside him, still parsing the events that had unraveled in front of her eyes.
“What the hell just...”
“It's fookin' fixed!” Farhan yelled, grabbing the unresponsive Maddie by the hand and tugging her towards the exit. “The whole things fookin' fixed.”
Maddie blinked. “Farhan, what are you on about?”
“Something meddled with the race!” he said angrily, shouldering through the crowd with a reckless aggressiveness that prompted several angry looks from his victims. “Wasn't a fair fight at all. Something's meddled with it!”
“It was a bit odd,” Maddie conceded, as they bobbed through the sea of heads. “Yah sayin' Wailing Banshee's jockey threw the race?”
“No damn it, don't you listen woman? I'm sayin' something's meddled with it.”
Maddie's face flashed with anger, and she tore her hand away. “Farhan O'Rouke, the hell's gotten into you? It's shit you lost your money, but yah don't have to take it out on me.” She humphed, hands on her hips. “It was a stupid bet anyways.”
He took a deep breath, feeling his frustration mount, and forced himself to swallow his anger. “Sorry Maddie,” his voice softened, “didn't mean to snap. Somethin's just got me mixed up right now.”
“I'll say.”
He took a look towards one of the video monitors broadcasting the aftermath of the race. The horse named Black Cat was trotting around in an easy victory lap, a hulking steed the size of a war horse, its coat so dark that you couldn't tell its eyes from the rest of it. The jockey wore a black and silver checkered uniform, and was bobbing up and down on the horse rhythmically with each stride. He waved at the camera, his pale face twisted into a smile that ended before it reached his dark eyes. As Farhan watched the image on the television, he had the strangest feeling that the jockey was smiling directly at him through the screen.
“He wasn't in the race,” Farhan whispered, and the back of his neck prickled.
“What?”
“At the start of that race, there wasn't any horse named Black Cat. Would've noticed it. A man like me never puts his money on a race with an omen like that.”
“Won't argue with that logic,” Maddie said, failing to hide the exasperation in her tone, “but what's to say you didn't just overlook it?”
“I didn't overlook it. There was only twelve horses in this race at the start. Look, Black Cat is horse number 13. Wasn't in the gate at the start of the race. Somehow it got changed.”
Maddie blew one of her red curls out of her face. “Farhan, that's mental. Look over there, at all the people queued up to collect their winnings. If Black Cat wasn't in the gate at the start, then how could they have bet on...”
“I don't know,” Farhan said, looking back at the smiling jockey on the screen, as a feeling of dread clenched his stomach. “I don't fookin' know.”
If was already 10:30 AM the next morning when Farhan stumbled through the broken door of his tiny office, disheveled and hungover. He hadn't bothered to iron his shirt, and his faded red tie dangled loose and untied from under his collar. He had been out late drinking with Maddie, drowning his sorrows until the early hours of the morning, trying to convince his girlfriend that some type of malevolent entity had robbed him of his winnings. His efforts had been largely unsuccessful, and now he had nothing but a headache to show for his trouble.
From the front desk, a young, wiry teenager wearing an over-sized pair of glasses was rapping away at his keyboard, whistling to himself.
“Hello Farhan,” his assistant Rudolph said cheerfully, looking up from the cramped front desk, as his boss dropped his briefcase on his foot and swore. Rudolph was only nineteen, and much unlike Farhan, he still possessed the boyish positivity of someone that had not let the world beat him down “Have a good weekend?”
“Had a bloody awful weekend,” Farhan said, trying the massage ache out of his temples. “Lost it big on the ponies. Hope yours was better than mine.”
As a matter of fact, it was the first time Farhan could ever remember going out gambling and losing money. The 'chaun was so lucky with his wagers that he always had to claim his annual winnings as a separate source of income.
“Sorry to hear that boss,” Rudolph said, his voice upbeat. “Me mum says gambling will always catch up to you in the end though. You want to know where I went?”
“Course I do. Where'd yah go, Rudolph?”
“I went snorkeling!”
“Snorkeling?” Farhan raised an eyebrow. “Here in New Jersey?”
“There's a place they got down on the shore you can go. Yes, I know what yer thinking, there aren't any dolphins up here, but we saw lots of crabs and sea bass! Fascinating creatures, them.” Rudolph pointed over at the kitchenette counter on the far side of the room. “Coffees still hot. Go ahead and kill it, mum says I was already born with caffeine in my veins.”
“Thanks lad.” Farhan plucked a styfoam cup from the cupboard and dumped the last dregs of the viscous brown substance into it.
The office was a disaster, he realized, as he took a sip of the scalding liquid. He pondered renting out a bigger space, if not for him, then for Rudolph. Currently, the boy was the only full time worker that Farhan employed, but still, the lobby was so small and cluttered with piles of files and cabinets that the assistant barely had any room to move.
His business was doing well enough that he could afford the expenses of a new office, the real problem was that buying a bigger place would look funny to auditors if he didn't hire more than one employee to fill the bigger space. Farhan preferred to keep his business dealings close to the chest, and Rudolph was one of only a few people in the world that he trusted with his secrets. Expanding his operation would involve expanding that circle of trust, and Farhan wasn't ready to take that leap yet.
“Any new messages?” Farhan asked, wincing at the bite of the coffee's taste.
“A couple from Elizabeth Gregory this morning. Says she's been trying to reach you.”
Farhan groaned. “Fer fook's sake. What did you tell 'er?”
“That you were currently paragliding in Scandinavia and would call her upon your return.”
“Good lad.” Farhan gave his assistant a pat on the shoulder, then squeezed past the front desk towards his office in the back, spilling a bit of coffee on himself in the process.
His personal office was about the same size of the lobby, the walls crammed with cabinets piled high with stuffed manila envelopes and loose sheets of paper. Farhan slumped down at his hand crafted oak desk, the only decent piece of furniture in the room, and pulled up his calendar on his laptop, still lying open from the Friday previous. No appointments until four o'clock today. Perhaps he could just take a quick nap...
BZZZZZZ
The intercom buzzed again, and Farhan picked his head off the desk, wiping the rope of drool from his mouth. Still only 1:30pm.
“Farhan,” Rudolph's voice broke through the intercom's crackle, “visitor for you.”
“Huh?” Farhan rubbed his eyes, “don't got none today.” He let his head fall back onto the desk with a thunk. “I'm not here. Tell 'em to fook off.”
There was a pause. “Umm, Farhan. I think she might be a cop.”
He bolted up straight. “What? Is she a cop or not?”
“I don't know. Think so.”
“Did you ask 'er?”
“No.”
“Some help you are. Keep her occupied then. I need a minute.”
Farhan dashed over to the wardrobe in the back of the room and threw it open, clearing away rows of shirts and suits to reveal a mirror, and fumbled to fasten his tie around his neck. He ran a finger through his thinning hair, combing it with his fingers, and sprayed a dash of cologne on himself.
“Alright Rudolph, send her – ” he broke off when he noticed he was no longer alone in his office, though he could not recall hearing his door open. The visitor was a slender blonde woman dressed in dark slacks, her hair pulled back in a tight no-nonsense ponytail, staring back at him through serious dark eyes. He did not know how long she had been standing there, but judging by the way she was leaning against the door frame, she had not just arrived.
“Hello Mister O'Doyle,” the woman said, walking further into the room without invitation, the waft of something sickly sweet permeating the room. “Hope I'm not interrupting anything.”
Bleedin' hell Rudolph, what the hell am I paying you for?
“Of course not,” Farhan said with a practiced smile, gesturing at the chair across from his desk. “Please, take a seat.”
The woman crossed the room gracefully, her long legs covering the room in just a few strides, and took her seat, keeping her eyes fixed on Farhan the entire time. The way she navigated the room without ever breaking her stare was more than a little unnerving, and Farhan felt the back of neck start to prickle.
He seated himself at his desk, and for a moment neither party said anything, electing simply to stare at one another, and Farhan used the moment to evaluate the woman.
She was smartly dressed – silk navy blouse, designer slacks – her choice of lip-stick a dark cherry red. The golden bracelet hanging from her left wrist was a fine piece of jewelry, and the giant diamond hanging from a solid gold chain around her neck was even finer. Farhan could tell the woman was not cop – cops generally could not afford such shows of extravagance – and yet something about her demeanor put him on edge.
“So,” he said, reclining back in his chair, “how can I help you today, ma'am?”
“You can start by telling me about yourself.” The woman's eyes bore into him, as if reading into his soul, a particular look made him feel very vulnerable. “Mr. O'Rouke, what kind of shop do you run here? It's quite a small operation for someone with so many different companies tied to his name.”
Ah, a blackmailer. Farhan smiled, feeling himself settle back into his element. He had dealt with blackmailers before. Start with a small bribe, test the waters. Buying them off is always easiest, if they are agreeable.
“I try to stay modest to my roots. Not one for excess. How do you know so much about me?”
She pursed her lips, clutching at he designer purse. “I have my sources.”
“Not one to share, eh? Let me guess, it was....actually, don't tell me. Couldn't care less.” He reached down towards the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulled it open. Inside he spotted his checkbook, nestled snugly between a pack of playing cards and his dad's antique revolver. “So then, just what exactly is it going to take to make you go away?”
Still the woman said nothing. Then, quite bizarrely, she smiled at him.
Farhan thought the smile was not a normal thing to do at that point in the conversation, but decided to take it as an affirmation, and reached for his checkbook. “How does ten thousand sound – ” he paused, because just then the lamp on his desk flickered. Like a sixth sense, he felt the blood in his veins – the old blood – thrum to life, roused from its stasis once again.
Something was wrong.
“Wait a second...” Farhan said slowly, rising back up to study the woman. The woman's smile had widened to malevolent levels, though her eyes remained cold and unblinking. He was struck with a sudden sense of deja-vu. “Who are you?”
In response, the woman dug her hands into her designer purse and produced a silencer pistol, pointing it at the leprechaun. “I know what you are,” she stated coldly, “and my employer wants you dead.”
Farhan's face paled. “Your employer?”
“That's correct.” Her smile widened. “Now, I'm going to give you one chance to live. Tell me where you keep your gold and I won't paint the walls with your brains.”
Farhan blinked. Thinking quickly, he gestured down at the desk drawer. “Easy lass. My checkbooks just down there. I'll write a check for whatever you want. Double whatever your employer is paying you, okay?” The revolver glinted back up at him from next the checkbook, sitting there like a signal from a higher power. Slowly he lowered his hand down towards the drawer. “Now, why don't you put down the weapon and take your bribe like an adult.”
“I don't want your money,” the woman said, and the barrel of the gun inched closer from across the desk. “I said I want your gold.”
Farhan was sweating again, rivulets running down his back. “There's been some mistake. I don't touch the stuff, the return on investment for precious metals just isn't what it used to – ”
“I'm not fucking around, leprechaun,” the woman said, rising to her feet. “Tell me where you hide your gold. The real stuff. Last chance.”
The gun was in his face, but oddly, Farhan's fear was evaporating. He could feel the old blood throbbing in his veins, the effect borderline euphoric, even in the face of imminent danger. It had been a long, long time since he had felt the twinge pulse through his veins so strongly, and it seemed to tell him not to submit to whatever was happening right now.
“You won't do it,” Farhan said, staring the woman down. “Now fook off.”
The energy in Farhan's veins surged, and suddenly he was gripped by a sneeze and spasmed backwards, falling out of his chair. He felt the bullet graze his left ear before he heard the pop from the silenced weapon.
A fortunate miss, by any account, and one that would have split his temple had he not sneezed at that precise moment. For all his faults, Farhan was still a leprechaun, and a lucky one at that.
His right hand plunged down into the desk drawer, and within a heartbeat Farhan had loaded and cocked his father's old revolver. He didn't keep the weapon in his desk for protection, he kept it because his father once told him it had saved his life. Keep it close, he said, keep it close for good luck.
The woman was circling around the desk, looking for her target, but her steps were measured and cautious. Recklessly, Farhan thrust the barrel of the gun out above the desk, pointing it in the woman's general direction, then squeezed the trigger. He didn't bother wasting any time aiming, letting his luck do all the work to guide his shot.
There was a deafening bang as the antique weapon discharged. It was followed by a grunt, as the bullet found its mark in his aggressor's neck.
The woman staggered backward, clutching at her wound with both hands, as her pistol hit the ground with a clatter. Then her knees gave out and she toppled backwards, gasping.
Farhan stood up and took a step towards the woman, his antique gun trained on her chest. As he approached the fallen woman, he heard a sizzling sound, like an alka-seltzer tablet dropped into water, and noticed that the woman seemed to have something that looked like vapor emanating off her body.
She stared up at him from the ground, her face contorted into an odd juxtaposition of rage mixed with the same wide smile, as if it was painted on her. The steam wafted upward, distorting her face like a fun-house mirror.
“You can't hide forever, Mister O'Rouke,” the woman said, the sneer twisting into something grotesque. “That luck of yours will soon expire.”
The lights flickered and there was a crack like a lightning strike. Farhan lost his vision momentarily, an after-image of the woman's smile burned into his retinas like a camera flash. He shut his eyes from the blinding light, and then all was quiet.
The leprechaun opened his eyes. The woman was gone, nothing left but a black scorch mark burned into the carpet where she had been lying a moment.
Farhan spun about wildly, looking for any sign of the woman. She was no where to found, and as he searched the room, he felt dread pitting in his stomach, the same dread he had felt back at the race track.
His search was interrupted by a loud bang at the door. “Farhan?” Rudolph's voice called. “What's going on? You okay?”
Farhan threw the door open, and his assistant sprang into the room, looking worried and confused. “I thought I heard a gun shot,” he stammered, wild eyed. His gaze found revolver, still hanging limply from Farhan's grip, and froze. “Why were you shooting?”
“The woman you let in,” Farhan said. “She was...never mind what she was. She shot first. It's her fault.”
“But Farhan,” Rudolph said, looking alarmed. “I never let her in. You seemed...un-presentable, so I told her to come back later. She left.”
“What?” Farhan said. “She was here.”
“I watched her leave. No one entered your office.”
“Okay then.” Farhan tucked the revolver into his belt, his mind racing. “Rudolph, I need you to burn every sensitive document in this office. Then gather your things. Can yah do that fer me? ”
Rudolph blanched. “What? Why?”
“Because we're leaving, and I don't know when we'll be back.”
“Is it the feds?” Rudolph started to shake. “Oh god. They found us, didn't they?”
Something found us lad, Farhan thought, but it wasn't the damned feds.
There was an after-image of the woman's smile still dancing across his vision. The same smile he had seen from the jockey riding Black Cat. A smile meant for him and only him. I know who you are, it said. I know who you are, and I'm coming for you.
To the leprechaun, one thing was clear. Something was hunting him. And whoever it was, it scared him far more than a lifetime sentence in federal prison.
“Is it my fault?” Rudolph asked, already gathering papers up in his arms. The boy's head was down, focused on his task. “I knew I wasn't careful, I told me mum that we were – ”
“Don't be a git,” Farhan said, and began to help his secretary. “The blame is all mine. Now hurry up. We're leaving in ten minutes.”
“But...where will we go sir?”
“Doesn't matter,” Farhan said. “But we can't stay here anymore.”

Hey all,
So just a quick announcement (and sorry to disturb all you Ageless fans with a notification).
For the last two months, /WritingPrompts has been holding it's annual first chapter competition. This year's competition had over 100 entrants in total, including several published authors.
Well, today the winners were announced, and...umm...I won First Place!
Obviously, it's been a pretty good day :)
Just wanted to share that. You can find the original submission here, although in the coming days, I'm going to do some editing based on some critiques I've received and keep a more polished working version below. This will be more of a side-project, with Ageless still being a priority.
That's all, hope you enjoy!

'Chaun

In Farhan O'Rourke's opinion, the hardest part about being a leprechaun was the money laundering.
When he was young, his father told him keeping his identity concealed would be the hardest part of his life, what with all the hunters and blackmailers looking to steal his stash. His father had been right, though the advice was mostly related to how to disguise habits and appearances. The man never would have guessed that in today's age of technology, a leprechaun was ten times more likely to be outed by a financial auditor than a bounty hunter.
Farhan was as close to a modern day 'chaun as one could find these days. At 5'6'', he was tall for his kin, and thanks to his local barber, his dyed hair was now closer to the color of mud than his family's signature red. He didn't much care for the color green, and never wore it out unless he really needed luck on his side, and even then he was discreet about how much of the suggestive color he flashed.
To this day, nobody had guessed the true nature of Farhan by his appearance, not even his own girlfriend.
Disguises were easy. But the criminal side of it all? The lies and deceit, the back room deals with shady brokers, the constant evasion from the probing eyes of regulators, always covering ones tracks, every financial decision calculated and meticulously planned, all so he could spend his own gold? Now that was the true plight of today's leprechaun.
And moving 'chaun gold was a dangerous game to play. In the last year alone, twenty five of Farhan's kind had been outed while being investigated for suspicious financial activity. To his credit, nobody was better at pushing pots of gold into banks than Farhan O'Rouke. Forever the entrepreneur, he had made a career out of helping other leprechauns move their ancient stashes into the digital age undetected.
Farhan claimed he hadn't been caught because he was careful. His friends told him that no amount of care could protect him from the age of information. They told him he was just lucky.
He didn't argue with that point. After all, he worked extremely hard for his luck.
That's enough, Farhan reminded himself, looking out over the giant racetrack before him, a giant oval of trampled mud. From somewhere above him, an announcer's voice crackled from an outdated PA system, rattling off the names and numbers of race horses like an auctioneer. No more worrying about business on your day off.
It was a typically overcast New Jersey day, alternating between heavy drizzle and outright downpour, the gray of the sky seeping down to mingle with the crowd shivering inside their raincoats. Necks craned up over a roof of umbrellas to catch a glimpse of their chosen horse, all lost in an indecipherable cloud of haze rounding the far bend. The mass of bodies slowly retracted away from rain, huddling together under the giant overhang shielding the grandstands, as a mist blurred the race horses into dark, dancing shadows.
From inside the folds of his coat, Farhan felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. That would be Elizabeth Gregory again, the nosy prude from the Securities Exchange Commission.
Christ almighty, he thought, switching his phone to 'Do Not Disturb'. I couldn't even buy bloody Apple stock without her sniffing up my arse.
Elizabeth was most likely auditing the flurry of trades he had brokered on Friday, minutes before the stock market had closed. He hadn't even been working for a client then, the trades were simply a favor for his family; liquidating uncle Connor's horde of gold so he could put his dear, sweet daughter through college.
Connor told Farhan he was a blessing from god. Farhan told Connor this was the last time he was sticking his neck out for his lazy, careless ass so his daughter could get plastered for four years at a community college.
It had been a simple manuever – Farhan had opted to move his uncle's life's savings via a series of investments into a fake company named Foulchemy, officially registered as, “A Delaware-based, eco-friendly research firm which aims to develop the science of turning fecal matter into precious metals.”
Compared to his past endeavors, the transaction had been minuscule, but Elizabeth had flagged it anyways. That was just the kind of person Elizabeth was, it seemed.
Farhan had bought off Elizabeth's predecessor at the SEC with a one-off bribe of a little less than less than twice his hourly rate. The poor bastard made shit for hourly wages, had three mouths to feed back home, and hated his job, a trifecta of circumstance that made turning a blind eye to Farhan's financials the easiest decision of his life.
All was well until the poor sod was laid off without warning, and Elizabeth had stormed in like a hurricane and taken over all his open cases. Farhan quickly discovered she had been far less receptive to his friendly 'gifts' and was going to be pain in his ass. Now it seemed she had taken bothering him outside of her working hours, too. Some people needed to get a life.
The leprechaun was brought back to the present by the boom of the racing announcer's voice, which was now frantic with excitement. The crowd started to cheer, as a shale-gray filly broke out of the pack of racers ike a heat-propelled missile.
“And Wailing Banshee, the 33-1 longshot, takes a commanding lead!”
Farhan's heart quickened as he heard the name. That's it lass, keep it up.
As the horse picked up momentum, Farhan felt something ancient stir within his chest, like an energy roused from a deep slumber. An energy that thrummed through the veins of his arms and tickled his ears. Farhan knew the sensation well; it was the old blood in him, and now it was gracing him with a bit of fortune.
It seemed with every beat of his heart, the gray horse distanced itself from the field by another length. He was so concentrated on the horse pulling away that he barely felt the punch on his right shoulder. “Fookin' hell Farhan, look at 'er go!”
Farhan turned to face his girlfriend Maddie Reilly, her red curls bouncing in front of her freckled face excitedly. He gave her a wink and a sheepish smile. “I told ya to pick that pony, no? She's got some fire in her belly, that one. Saw her throwin' around the stable-hands before the race and knew she was mine.”
“How much you put on her, anyway?”
Farhan produced a lighter and a crumpled pack of cigarettes him his pocket. He shook one out of the pack and sparked a light on his first try. “Seven.”
“Dollars?”
“Seven dollars?” He laughed. “Was I was bussed here by my retirement home? Do I carry around a coin purse? Is my name Eleanor? I didn't put seven dollars on that demon horse. Seven hundred, woman.”
Maddie's eyes widened. “Seven fookin' Benjamins on a longshot? You're daft.”
“What's so daft about trusting my gut?”
“I can't even trust my gut with seafood.” She gave him a poke in the ribs. “Looks like drinks are on that magic gut of yours tonight, yah lucky bastard. And I'd fancy a nice steak dinner too, now that I think of it.” She winked at him. “Treat your woman right and you might even get lucky again tonight.”
Farhan took a puff of smoke and frowned. “Don't jinx it, Maddie.”
“What's there to jinx?” The beast stormed down into the final stretch, at least fifteen lengths ahead of its closest pursuer. “No one's catchin' her.”
You can always jink it, Farhan thought uneasily, letting the smoke from the cigarette curl around his face. Farhan's father had taught him that being lucky was not a gift, but a skill that took years of practice to master.
Superstition was a powerful force of nature, and putting in the legwork made all the difference. People like Farhan did well with the ponies because they manipulated circumstance into their favor. As a devoted believer, Farhan was always careful around breakable, reflective surfaces. He avoided the cracks in the sidewalks at all costs. And he always registered new shell companies in groups of three.
Wailing Banshee thundered toward the finish like a horse hearlding the apocalypse, teeth gnashing, eyes wild, but nobody but Farhan was watching. The crowd was already starting to disperse out of the grandstand, back towards the betting windows to wager on the next race. Maddie tugged at his arm to follow, but Farhan stood planted in place. His veins were thrumming again, but this time the sensation filled him with a sense of malaise that made his skin itch and tingle.
“Wait Maddie,” he said, reaching into his pocket and fishing out his wallet. He began to rifle through the flaps, searching for the brittle four leaf clover pressed into one of the numerous leather sleeves.
And then it happened.
Wailing Banshee stumbled, nearly lost its balance, and then came up lame. The jockey ignored the shrill cry and whipped at the horse's flank, urging it forward to finish the race, but the animal was no longer taking orders. It had been spooked by something and veered off the track, then jumped over the barrier and into the enclosed infield grass.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd and the announcer's voice crackled back to life. “And Wailing Banshee has removed itself from the field, and now this race is still up for grabs again! Here they come, down the stretch now. It's a mad dash for first place, neck and neck...and...it...is...Black Cat! Black Cat wins by a hand! At 13-1 odds, the rookie takes first in a shocking turn of events!”
The grandstands were roaring, the world was spinning, and Farhan livid.
He unleashed a barrage of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush, as a of crew stable hands rushed out after the rogue horse, which was now trying to buck its jockey off its back like a bull. Maddie stood frozen beside him, still parsing the events that had unraveled in front of her eyes.
“What the hell just...”
“It's fookin' fixed!” Farhan yelled, grabbing the unresponsive Maddie by the hand and tugging her towards the exit. “The whole things fookin' fixed.”
Maddie blinked. “Farhan, what are you on about?”
“Something meddled with the race!” he said angrily, shouldering through the crowd with a reckless aggressiveness that prompted several angry looks from his victims. “Wasn't a fair fight at all. Something's meddled with it!”
“It was a bit odd,” Maddie conceded, as they bobbed through the sea of heads. “Yah sayin' Wailing Banshee's jockey threw the race?”
“No damn it, don't you listen woman? I'm sayin' something's meddled with it.”
Maddie's face flashed with anger, and she tore her hand away. “Farhan O'Rouke, the hell's gotten into you? It's shit you lost your money, but yah don't have to take it out on me.” She humphed, hands on her hips. “It was a stupid bet anyways.”
He took a deep breath, feeling his frustration mount, and forced himself to swallow his anger. “Sorry Maddie,” his voice softened, “didn't mean to snap. Somethin's just got me mixed up right now.”
“I'll say.”
He took a look towards one of the video monitors broadcasting the aftermath of the race. The horse named Black Cat was trotting around in an easy victory lap, a hulking steed the size of a war horse, its coat so dark that you couldn't tell its eyes from the rest of it. The jockey wore a black and silver checkered uniform, and was bobbing up and down on the horse rhythmically with each stride. He waved at the camera, his pale face twisted into a smile that ended before it reached his dark eyes. As Farhan watched the image on the television, he had the strangest feeling that the jockey was smiling directly at him through the screen.
“He wasn't in the race,” Farhan whispered, and the back of his neck prickled.
“What?”
“At the start of that race, there wasn't any horse named Black Cat. Would've noticed it. A man like me never puts his money on a race with an omen like that.”
“Won't argue with that logic,” Maddie said, failing to hide the exasperation in her tone, “but what's to say you didn't just overlook it?”
“I didn't overlook it. There was only twelve horses in this race at the start. Look, Black Cat is horse number 13. Wasn't in the gate at the start of the race. Somehow it got changed.”
Maddie blew one of her red curls out of her face. “Farhan, that's mental. Look over there, at all the people queued up to collect their winnings. If Black Cat wasn't in the gate at the start, then how could they have bet on...”
“I don't know,” Farhan said, looking back at the smiling jockey on the screen, as a feeling of dread clenched his stomach. “I don't fookin' know.”
If was already 10:30 AM the next morning when Farhan stumbled through the broken door of his tiny office, disheveled and hungover. He hadn't bothered to iron his shirt, and his faded red tie dangled loose and untied from under his collar. He had been out late drinking with Maddie, drowning his sorrows until the early hours of the morning, trying to convince his girlfriend that some type of malevolent entity had robbed him of his winnings. His efforts had been largely unsuccessful, and now he had nothing but a headache to show for his trouble.
From the front desk, a young, wiry teenager wearing an over-sized pair of glasses was rapping away at his keyboard, whistling to himself.
“Hello Farhan,” his assistant Rudolph said cheerfully, looking up from the cramped front desk, as his boss dropped his briefcase on his foot and swore. Rudolph was only nineteen, and much unlike Farhan, he still possessed the boyish positivity of someone that had not let the world beat him down “Have a good weekend?”
“Had a bloody awful weekend,” Farhan said, trying the massage ache out of his temples. “Lost it big on the ponies. Hope yours was better than mine.”
As a matter of fact, it was the first time Farhan could ever remember going out gambling and losing money. The 'chaun was so lucky with his wagers that he always had to claim his annual winnings as a separate source of income.
“Sorry to hear that boss,” Rudolph said, his voice upbeat. “Me mum says gambling will always catch up to you in the end though. You want to know where I went?”
“Course I do. Where'd yah go, Rudolph?”
“I went snorkeling!”
“Snorkeling?” Farhan raised an eyebrow. “Here in New Jersey?”
“There's a place they got down on the shore you can go. Yes, I know what yer thinking, there aren't any dolphins up here, but we saw lots of crabs and sea bass! Fascinating creatures, them.” Rudolph pointed over at the kitchenette counter on the far side of the room. “Coffees still hot. Go ahead and kill it, mum says I was already born with caffeine in my veins.”
“Thanks lad.” Farhan plucked a styfoam cup from the cupboard and dumped the last dregs of the viscous brown substance into it.
The office was a disaster, he realized, as he took a sip of the scalding liquid. He pondered renting out a bigger space, if not for him, then for Rudolph. Currently, the boy was the only full time worker that Farhan employed, but still, the lobby was so small and cluttered with piles of files and cabinets that the assistant barely had any room to move.
His business was doing well enough that he could afford the expenses of a new office, the real problem was that buying a bigger place would look funny to auditors if he didn't hire more than one employee to fill the bigger space. Farhan preferred to keep his business dealings close to the chest, and Rudolph was one of only a few people in the world that he trusted with his secrets. Expanding his operation would involve expanding that circle of trust, and Farhan wasn't ready to take that leap yet.
“Any new messages?” Farhan asked, wincing at the bite of the coffee's taste.
“A couple from Elizabeth Gregory this morning. Says she's been trying to reach you.”
Farhan groaned. “Fer fook's sake. What did you tell 'er?”
“That you were currently paragliding in Scandinavia and would call her upon your return.”
“Good lad.” Farhan gave his assistant a pat on the shoulder, then squeezed past the front desk towards his office in the back, spilling a bit of coffee on himself in the process.
His personal office was about the same size of the lobby, the walls crammed with cabinets piled high with stuffed manila envelopes and loose sheets of paper. Farhan slumped down at his hand crafted oak desk, the only decent piece of furniture in the room, and pulled up his calendar on his laptop, still lying open from the Friday previous. No appointments until four o'clock today. Perhaps he could just take a quick nap...
BZZZZZZ
The intercom buzzed again, and Farhan picked his head off the desk, wiping the rope of drool from his mouth. Still only 1:30pm.
“Farhan,” Rudolph's voice broke through the intercom's crackle, “visitor for you.”
“Huh?” Farhan rubbed his eyes, “don't got none today.” He let his head fall back onto the desk with a thunk. “I'm not here. Tell 'em to fook off.”
There was a pause. “Umm, Farhan. I think she might be a cop.”
He bolted up straight. “What? Is she a cop or not?”
“I don't know. Think so.”
“Did you ask 'er?”
“No.”
“Some help you are. Keep her occupied then. I need a minute.”
Farhan dashed over to the wardrobe in the back of the room and threw it open, clearing away rows of shirts and suits to reveal a mirror, and fumbled to fasten his tie around his neck. He ran a finger through his thinning hair, combing it with his fingers, and sprayed a dash of cologne on himself.
“Alright Rudolph, send her – ” he broke off when he noticed he was no longer alone in his office, though he could not recall hearing his door open. The visitor was a slender blonde woman dressed in dark slacks, her hair pulled back in a tight no-nonsense ponytail, staring back at him through serious dark eyes. He did not know how long she had been standing there, but judging by the way she was leaning against the door frame, she had not just arrived.
“Hello Mister O'Doyle,” the woman said, walking further into the room without invitation, the waft of something sickly sweet permeating the room. “Hope I'm not interrupting anything.”
Bleedin' hell Rudolph, what the hell am I paying you for?
“Of course not,” Farhan said with a practiced smile, gesturing at the chair across from his desk. “Please, take a seat.”
The woman crossed the room gracefully, her long legs covering the room in just a few strides, and took her seat, keeping her eyes fixed on Farhan the entire time. The way she navigated the room without ever breaking her stare was more than a little unnerving, and Farhan felt the back of neck start to prickle.
He seated himself at his desk, and for a moment neither party said anything, electing simply to stare at one another, and Farhan used the moment to evaluate the woman.
She was smartly dressed – silk navy blouse, designer slacks – her choice of lip-stick a dark cherry red. The golden bracelet hanging from her left wrist was a fine piece of jewelry, and the giant diamond hanging from a solid gold chain around her neck was even finer. Farhan could tell the woman was not cop – cops generally could not afford such shows of extravagance – and yet something about her demeanor put him on edge.
“So,” he said, reclining back in his chair, “how can I help you today, ma'am?”
“You can start by telling me about yourself.” The woman's eyes bore into him, as if reading into his soul, a particular look made him feel very vulnerable. “Mr. O'Rouke, what kind of shop do you run here? It's quite a small operation for someone with so many different companies tied to his name.”
Ah, a blackmailer. Farhan smiled, feeling himself settle back into his element. He had dealt with blackmailers before. Start with a small bribe, test the waters. Buying them off is always easiest, if they are agreeable.
“I try to stay modest to my roots. Not one for excess. How do you know so much about me?”
She pursed her lips, clutching at he designer purse. “I have my sources.”
“Not one to share, eh? Let me guess, it was....actually, don't tell me. Couldn't care less.” He reached down towards the bottom drawer of his desk, and pulled it open. Inside he spotted his checkbook, nestled snugly between a pack of playing cards and his dad's antique revolver. “So then, just what exactly is it going to take to make you go away?”
Still the woman said nothing. Then, quite bizarrely, she smiled at him.
Farhan thought the smile was not a normal thing to do at that point in the conversation, but decided to take it as an affirmation, and reached for his checkbook. “How does ten thousand sound – ” he paused, because just then the lamp on his desk flickered. Like a sixth sense, he felt the blood in his veins – the old blood – thrum to life, roused from its stasis once again.
Something was wrong.
“Wait a second...” Farhan said slowly, rising back up to study the woman. The woman's smile had widened to malevolent levels, though her eyes remained cold and unblinking. He was struck with a sudden sense of deja-vu. “Who are you?”
In response, the woman dug her hands into her designer purse and produced a silencer pistol, pointing it at the leprechaun. “I know what you are,” she stated coldly, “and my employer wants you dead.”
Farhan's face paled. “Your employer?”
“That's correct.” Her smile widened. “Now, I'm going to give you one chance to live. Tell me where you keep your gold and I won't paint the walls with your brains.”
Farhan blinked. Thinking quickly, he gestured down at the desk drawer. “Easy lass. My checkbooks just down there. I'll write a check for whatever you want. Double whatever your employer is paying you, okay?” The revolver glinted back up at him from next the checkbook, sitting there like a signal from a higher power. Slowly he lowered his hand down towards the drawer. “Now, why don't you put down the weapon and take your bribe like an adult.”
“I don't want your money,” the woman said, and the barrel of the gun inched closer from across the desk. “I said I want your gold.”
Farhan was sweating again, rivulets running down his back. “There's been some mistake. I don't touch the stuff, the return on investment for precious metals just isn't what it used to – ”
“I'm not fucking around, leprechaun,” the woman said, rising to her feet. “Tell me where you hide your gold. The real stuff. Last chance.”
The gun was in his face, but oddly, Farhan's fear was evaporating. He could feel the old blood throbbing in his veins, the effect borderline euphoric, even in the face of imminent danger. It had been a long, long time since he had felt the twinge pulse through his veins so strongly, and it seemed to tell him not to submit to whatever was happening right now.
“You won't do it,” Farhan said, staring the woman down. “Now fook off.”
The energy in Farhan's veins surged, and suddenly he was gripped by a sneeze and spasmed backwards, falling out of his chair. He felt the bullet graze his left ear before he heard the pop from the silenced weapon.
A fortunate miss, by any account, and one that would have split his temple had he not sneezed at that precise moment. For all his faults, Farhan was still a leprechaun, and a lucky one at that.
His right hand plunged down into the desk drawer, and within a heartbeat Farhan had loaded and cocked his father's old revolver. He didn't keep the weapon in his desk for protection, he kept it because his father once told him it had saved his life. Keep it close, he said, keep it close for good luck.
The woman was circling around the desk, looking for her target, but her steps were measured and cautious. Recklessly, Farhan thrust the barrel of the gun out above the desk, pointing it in the woman's general direction, then squeezed the trigger. He didn't bother wasting any time aiming, letting his luck do all the work to guide his shot.
There was a deafening bang as the antique weapon discharged. It was followed by a grunt, as the bullet found its mark in his aggressor's neck.
The woman staggered backward, clutching at her wound with both hands, as her pistol hit the ground with a clatter. Then her knees gave out and she toppled backwards, gasping.
Farhan stood up and took a step towards the woman, his antique gun trained on her chest. As he approached the fallen woman, he heard a sizzling sound, like an alka-seltzer tablet dropped into water, and noticed that the woman seemed to have something that looked like vapor emanating off her body.
She stared up at him from the ground, her face contorted into an odd juxtaposition of rage mixed with the same wide smile, as if it was painted on her. The steam wafted upward, distorting her face like a fun-house mirror.
“You can't hide forever, Mister O'Rouke,” the woman said, the sneer twisting into something grotesque. “That luck of yours will soon expire.”
The lights flickered and there was a crack like a lightning strike. Farhan lost his vision momentarily, an after-image of the woman's smile burned into his retinas like a camera flash. He shut his eyes from the blinding light, and then all was quiet.
The leprechaun opened his eyes. The woman was gone, nothing left but a black scorch mark burned into the carpet where she had been lying a moment.
Farhan spun about wildly, looking for any sign of the woman. She was no where to found, and as he searched the room, he felt dread pitting in his stomach, the same dread he had felt back at the race track.
His search was interrupted by a loud bang at the door. “Farhan?” Rudolph's voice called. “What's going on? You okay?”
Farhan threw the door open, and his assistant sprang into the room, looking worried and confused. “I thought I heard a gun shot,” he stammered, wild eyed. His gaze found revolver, still hanging limply from Farhan's grip, and froze. “Why were you shooting?”
“The woman you let in,” Farhan said. “She was...never mind what she was. She shot first. It's her fault.”
“But Farhan,” Rudolph said, looking alarmed. “I never let her in. You seemed...un-presentable, so I told her to come back later. She left.”
“What?” Farhan said. “She was here.”
“I watched her leave. No one entered your office.”
“Okay then.” Farhan tucked the revolver into his belt, his mind racing. “Rudolph, I need you to burn every sensitive document in this office. Then gather your things. Can yah do that fer me? ”
Rudolph blanched. “What? Why?”
“Because we're leaving, and I don't know when we'll be back.”
“Is it the feds?” Rudolph started to shake. “Oh god. They found us, didn't they?”
Something found us lad, Farhan thought, but it wasn't the damned feds.
There was an after-image of the woman's smile still dancing across his vision. The same smile he had seen from the jockey riding Black Cat. A smile meant for him and only him. I know who you are, it said. I know who you are, and I'm coming for you.
To the leprechaun, one thing was clear. Something was hunting him. And whoever it was, it scared him far more than a lifetime sentence in federal prison.
“Is it my fault?” Rudolph asked, already gathering papers up in his arms. The boy's head was down, focused on his task. “I knew I wasn't careful, I told me mum that we were – ”
“Don't be a git,” Farhan said, and began to help his secretary. “The blame is all mine. Now hurry up. We're leaving in ten minutes.”
“But...where will we go sir?”
“Doesn't matter,” Farhan said. “But we can't stay here anymore.”

As stated, only trifecta odds are available, and win probability of horse/runner is required.
Is this even possible to calculate? Assume perhaps a 4 horse race for simplicity sake in explanation if you wish

**My Father does a write up about the derby horses every year. He has been to every Derby since Dust Commander won (1970) We had a great response last year so here is 2018! I will see if I can get him to answer any Derby related questions if anyone is interested.
Good luck everyone!
As I begin my 36th analysis of America’s greatest horse race, I need to talk about the way that trainers have approached this race over the last 20 years. Back in 1998, the Derby horses had an average of 8.4 career starts before the Derby. That number is now 5.9 career starts for this year’s expected 20 entrants, a decrease of nearly 30% over the last 20 years - so what is happening? There are many possible explanations for this downward trend. The most discussed reason is that trainers are placing more time between their charges’ races than ever before, the result is fewer starts overall for the Derby contenders. Is it possible that trainers are “babying” their horses a little too much? Back in the 70’s the Derby entrants had their last prep race within two weeks of the Derby, now it’s more like 4-6 weeks between a colt’s last race and the Derby. So as a handicapping factor, the number of career starts and the number of starts as a 3-yo seems to be “out the window”. However, I still believe that the colts with more racing experience have a slight edge in conditioning and therefore, a slightly better chance of winning the race. That being said, this year’s field has eight probable entrants who have fewer that 6 career starts, including the probable favorite and several other legitimate contenders. Let’s see how this turns out. So, without any further ado, here is my analysis of the colts (no fillies entered this year) in the 2018 Run for the Roses. Colts are listed in the order of the points they amassed in their prep races – not in the order that I think they will finish:
Magnum Moon: This lightly raced, undefeated colt (4 for 4 lifetime), is one of possibly 4 Todd Pletcher colts who will be in the starting gate and is one of two entrants who will be trying to overcome the “Curse of Apollo” (see footnotes for an explanation). He ran the fastest final 3/8 mile of this year’s colts with a time of 36:47 seconds in the Arkansas Derby, a race in which he controlled the pace through very reasonable fractions; running a fast final 3/8 mile is generally a good thing in the Derby. The Arkansas Derby has produced 6 Kentucky Derby winners. He has already beaten one other Derby entrant – Solomini – but the Derby will be his 5 th race in 112 days. He is a May foal and also must overcome the “Curse of Apollo “. If he finds himself up close early, in what is shaping up as a race with a lot of early speed, this will likely compromise his chances. I will have a hard time betting him to finish in the money in this race.
Good Magic: This lightly raced Chad Brown trainee (5 starts) actually broke his maiden in the GR1 Breeders’ Cup Juvenile in November and was last year’s 2-yo champion. He has wins over other entrants Flameaway, Bolt’d’Oro, Solomini and Enticed and loses to Firenze Fire and Promises Fulfilled. He had a nice freshening over the winter and came back with a slightly disappointing 3 rd place finish as the odds- on favorite in the Fountain of Youth stakes at Gulfstream in March. His next start was much better as he won the Blue Grass stakes at Keeneland (23 Blue Grass runners have won the Ky. Derby). He is a $1,000,000 Curlin colt, has a great trainer, and his running style will have him off the pace tracking the leaders in the early going. Also, he is considered a “dual-qualifier” (see footnotes for an explanation), an angle that historically has had success in identifying contenders in the Derby. I think he has a good chance of winning the race.
Audible: Another lightly raced, Pletcher trained entrant (5 starts) ran a great race to win the Florida Derby. His winning time of 1:49 2 in the race was the fastest 1-1/8 mile time for a 3-yo this year (reminds me of Always Dreaming last year) and the Florida Derby has produced 24 winners of the Kentucky derby. He will have a five-week layoff before the first Saturday in May but he has shown that he can run well off such a layoff. He has beaten other Derby entrants Free Drop Billy and Hofburg. He has several knocks against him however- 1) his breeding suggests that 1-1/4 miles might not be his best distance and he is a great, great grandson of Storm Cat through Harlan’s Holiday– Storm Cat offspring are 0-51 in the Derby – make of that what you will. As good as he has looked this year, I am hesitant to bet him to win, but he might fill out some of the exotics. For those who don’t know, exotic bets are exactas (first two finishers coming in), trifectas (first three finishers coming in) and the superfectas (first four finishers coming in).
Noble Indy: Yet another Pletcher trained entrant, this lightly raced colt (4 starts) won the Louisiana Derby in his last effort and has beaten other Derby entrants Lone Sailor, My Boy Jack, but was beaten by Bravazo. He began racing in December 2017 so he is just a little shy of qualifying for the “Curse of Apollo”, nevertheless, the Derby will be his 5 th race in as many months. The Derby will also be his first start in 6 weeks. He seems to have issues breaking cleanly from the gate, which could be a factor in the Derby. He likes to be up close to the pace so that could also be a problem in this race. I am leaning against betting on him.
Vino Rosso: Pletcher’s 4 th possible entrant. His last race, the Wood Memorial, was by far his best race of the year as he came from 9 lengths back to win going away over Derby entrant Enticed. However, he was beaten by Flameaway in two stakes races at Tampa earlier in the year. He only has 5 career starts but posted a fast last 3/8 mile in the Wood. Eleven winners of the Wood have gone on to win the Derby, but no colt has done that since 2000. John Velazquez rode him in the Wood and will ride him in the is Derby - which kind of surprises me as I think the other Pletcher colts are better than Vino Rosso and it seems that Johnny V had his choice of which Pletcher colt to ride. He has a closing running style but has never been in a race with more than 8 competitors, so he may encounter traffic with a 20-horse field. I believe he peaked in the Wood but I might bet him in some of the exotics in the Derby. Bolt d’Oro: This colt has intrigued me for the past two years. He won two GR1 races as a 2-yo and has always been in the money in 5 graded stakes efforts (2 wins, 2- 2nds and a 3 rd ). He is a “dual qualifier” and ran very good races in both the San Felipe (great stretch battle with McKinzie) and the SA Derby (when 2 nd to Justify) in his 2 starts this year. He has beaten fellow entrant Solomini and has lost to that one as well as Good Magic and the aforementioned Justify. One knock on him is that he is not a good gate horse and tends to break slow. Another knock is his trainer Mick Ruis (who also owns him). Mick has a poor win record this year, does not do well with shippers and this will be his first Derby entrant. Either his two starts this year have set him up well for the first Saturday in May OR they may have taken something out of him. His last race was a career best speed figure for him and horses often “bounce” (run worse in their next race) off these types of efforts in their next race. Anyway, I think enough of his natural talent to consider him a potential winner of the race.
Enticed: His trainer, Kiaran McLaughlin, hopes that this colt finally gets him and his Owner, Godolphin, their first Derby win. He has been running against the best of his generation for the last two years but his record is spotty against them. He has beaten Free Drop Billy and Promises Fulfilled but he has also been beaten by Vino Rosso, Audible, Free Drop Billy, Firenze Fire and Good Magic. He was beaten in the last two races where he was favored- the Wood and the Holy Bull. He does own a win over the Churchill Downs surface, so he can handle that track. He didn’t come home all that well in the Wood; I can’t see him winning the Derby but, he may get a part of the superfecta. I believe he is a cut below the best of this year’s 3-yo’s.
Mendelssohn: Probably this year’s most interesting colt. On the positive side: 1) He is trained by Aidan O’Brien, one of the best trainers in the world, 2) Though he is a European based colt, he came to Del Mar in November and won the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Turf – quite an accomplishment for a 2-yo, 3) He was a $3M purchase as a yearling (that price shows a lot of confidence in his potential), 4) He went to Dubai in March and won the UAE Derby, a 1-3/16 mile race, by 18 lengths (the 2 nd place horse was a filly who is running in the Oaks)! 5) He is a dual qualifier. Now for the negatives: 1) Prior to his win in Dubai, his first 5 of his 6 races were on turf tracks in Ireland and Great Britain and the other was a mile on the synthetic track at Dundalk, 2) He raced in Dubai, my experience is that the travel to and from the Middle East takes a lot out of a horse and now he must go to Kentucky! 3) He is descendent of Storm Cat through Scat Daddy and Storm Cat’s descendants are 0-51 in the Derby. As an aside, his sire Scat Daddy, could have four starters in the Derby and if the Storm Cat futility holds up there are four colts who will not win. 4) Like several other colts in the race he is a May foal and late foals have not had success in the Derby in the last 20 years. I suspect that he will be well hyped come Derby time and will take a lot of action at the windows. I will take a stand against him.
Justify: This colt is the talk of the racing world, the hype and respect he has garnered would make you think that he is the next Man O’WaSecretariat. Well I am not so sure that he will win the Derby, though many experts say that he will be the favorite in the race. I base my opinion on the following: 1) He must overcome the “Curse of Apollo” (this will be his 4 th race in 76 days), 2) He is a descendent of Storm Cat and like Mendelssohn is out of Scat Daddy and Storm Cat’s descendants are 0-51 in the Derby. 3) Though undefeated in 3 career starts, he has not had to overcome any adversity in any of those races (though some might say that he is so good that he naturally dominated his competition, kind of the way American Pharoah did in 2015), 4) He will face more colts in the Derby than he has faced in his three career races combined (read that again)- in other words he is not battle tested. 5) The amount of quality speed in the Derby may compromise his chances if Mike Smith decides to keep him close to the pace. 6) His race in the Santa Anita Derby was a career high speed figure for him and he may “bounce” off that effort. NOTE: the Santa Anita Derby winner has won 10 Kentucky Derbies and 7 other Derby winners have come out of the race. On the positive side: 1) He is trained by Bob Baffert who is arguably America’s best trainer with 4 Kentucky Derby wins already and a Triple Crown win – he obviously is a trainer to take seriously in the Derby, 2) In his last race, the Santa Anita Derby he defeated Bolt d’Oro a legitimate Derby contender, and, 3) He gets the services of Mike Smith. “Money Mike” is America’s best jockey but he only has 1 Kentucky Derby winner from 23 mounts. I really can’t play this colt to win, but I probably have to include him in my exotic bets – he might just be as good as some experts are saying and maybe Mike gets his 2 nd Derby win.
Flameaway: Trained by Mark Casse who will be looking for his first Kentucky Derby win, this colt is one of the more accomplished in the field this year with 9 career starts, including 4 this year. He was beaten Good Magic in his last race –the Blue Grass Stakes. His preferred running style is to be up close or on the lead so that will put him in the thick of a hot pace in the Derby. Probably not the place to be! He has one start over the CD track and that resulted in the worst defeat of his career in the Iroquois Stakes. He is also another colt who traces to Storm Cat through Scat Daddy so you all know by now what that might mean. His breeding indicates that he may have trouble with the 1-1/4 miles of the Derby. I don’t see him finishing in the money in the Derby.
Solomini: Baffert’s second possible entrant in the race has never been out of the money in 6 career starts, but he only has a maiden win to show for his efforts (he was disqualified from 1 st to 3 rd for interference in the Los Alamitos Futurity during a stirring stretch duel). He has been beaten by Magnum Moon, Good Magic and Bolt d’Oro – that’s some pretty good company right there! But alas, his dam is out of Storm Cat (here we go again). He is owned by Zayat Stables who brought us American Pharoah so they know their way around the track – so to speak - and Baffert’s record speaks for itself. Is there a Baffert exacta possible in the Derby? I kind of doubt it. Like Justify, I may have to use this guy in a tri or super.
Bravazo: This D. Wayne Lukas trainee was thoroughly beaten in his last Derby prep, the Louisiana Derby. He finished a distant 8 th , beaten by 21 lengths as the 2 nd choice in the betting. Those finishing ahead of him include Derby entrants Noble Indy, Lone Sailor, and My Boy Jack. He won the Risen Star over the same track in his previous start so how could he have such a reversal in form? He has competed against many of the best of his generation with varying degrees of success – beating both Noble Indy and Lone Sailor but losing to Enticed and Free Drop Billy. D.Wayne knows how to get a colt to run well in the Ky Derby (after all he has won the race four times), but Bravazo’s poor effort in Louisiana is hard to explain. It’s great to see D.Wayne with another Derby entrant, but I think I will pass on this one.
My Boy Jack: This colt has the most career starts of any of the Derby entrants with 10. He is very consistent, being in the money 8 times in his 10 starts. Early in his career he was considered a turf horse but has found dirt to be to his liking. Trained by Keith Desormeaux and ridden by his brother Kent – winner of three Derbies- this colt is one of the four confirmed closers in the field. If the pace is fast, as expected, he is the most likely closer to have a shot, provided he can avoid traffic problems (hard to do with a dozen or more colts in front of you) when he starts to make his move. He will likely have to be wide around the last turn but he is capable of running a fast final 3/8 mile. He is out of Creative Cause so he is another entrant who is a descendent of Storm Cat. If the Storm Cat descendants continue their futile runs in the Derby he may not win. All this being said, I think I have to include him in some exotics as the most likely closer to hit the board.
Promises Fulfilled: One of two Dale Romans’ entrants, seems like he has only one way of going – to the front! I don’t see him having an easy lead like he did when winning the Fountain of Youth Stakes beating Good Magic. He finished last, beaten by 35 lengths, in the Florida Derby after setting fast early fractions losing to Audible. The Derby will certainly not be a slow pace and this will compromise his chances. He has run well over the CD strip, being in the money in two starts. However, his breeding screams “sprinter” with a dosage index of 9.00; he is a descendent of Storm Cat through Forestry and he is a May foal. Given these negatives – running style, high dosage index, descendent of Storm Cat and late foaling date I will pass.
Free Drop Billy: Dale Romans’ second entrant, is also a May foal and a descendent of Storm Cat – two negatives to consider. On the other hand: 1) He won a GR1 stakes as a 2-yo beating Bravazo and Lone Sailor, 2) He has been in the money 7 out of 8 career starts, and, 3) He is a “dual qualifier”. He was beaten in the Blue Grass by Good Magic and Flameaway. He has also lost to Enticed, Audible, Solomini, Bolt d’Oro and Firenze Fire in other races. As you can see, he has been beaten by many of the same colts he should face on May 5 th , not exactly a vote of confidence for his win chances. He has one win over the CD strip when he broke his maiden. He has always been well supported at the windows but come May 5 th , I think he will be a longshot and I won’t play him.
Lone Sailor: This Thomas Amoss trainee ran well enough in the Louisiana Derby to place 2 nd in what was his best race, however, he only has a maiden win to his credit in 8 career starts going into the Derby. He was beaten by Noble Indy, Enticed, Promises Fulfilled, Free Drop Billy and Brazavo when he faced them. This colt is another who does his running from the back of the pack and may face traffic issues turning for home. However, he had a tremendous 5f work at CD on 4/20 that has the clockers talking. I can see him improving enough to be in the superfecta in the Derby.
Hofburg: Not really sure what Bill Mott and his connections (Juddmonte) are thinking entering him in this race - they should know better (perhaps he will scratch). His 2 nd place finish in the Florida Derby earned him enough points to get into the Derby but he only has 3 career starts and if your best effort in a stakes race is a 2 nd , why bother entering the Derby? There isn’t much to say about this colt other than I think he should stay in the barn come the Derby.
Firenze Fire: Trained by Jason Servis, the trainer of 2004 Derby winner Smarty Jones, this colt has not lived up to the 2-yo potential he showed when he won both the GR1 Champaign and the GR3 Sanford Stakes. He comes into his 3-yo campaign with a mile win in the Jerome over a muddy track, while being beaten in his last 3 starts – the Wood, the Gotham and the Withers stakes. He has been beaten by fellow entrants Vino Rosso, Enticed, Free Drop Billy, Good Magic, Solomini, and Bolt d’Oro, and in turn he has beaten Good Magic, Enticed and Free Drop Billy so you could say that he fits right up there with the best of his generation. I don’t think that his 2-yo form has transferred to his 3-yo campaign, so I will have a hard time backing him come Derby day.
Combatant: One of Steve Asmussen’s four possible entrants. This colt has only one win in 7 career starts but he has run 2 nd or 3 rd enough times to get the points (32) needed to get into the race. It is hard for me to back him in any kind of wager except maybe a superfecta. He has been beaten by Magnum Moon, Solomini and My Boy Jack, when he faced them. He is a descendent of Storm Cat so beware of that and he is a May foal, another negative. If I play him at all it may be in the superfecta – he could run 4 th I guess.
Instilled Regard: This Jerry Hollendorfer trainee won the LeComte at the Fairgrounds in his 3-yo debut, but then ran 4 th in the Risen Star at the Fairgrounds after flying back and forth to California – guess he didn’t like the travel. In his next start he again finished 4 th this time to Justify in the Santa Anita Derby - never really getting into the race. He has 2 wins from 7 career starts and he has been in training since his career debut in September 2017. In the Derby, it will be hard for me to bet him. The negatives against him are: 1) In the Lecomte, he really didn’t beat anyone of note, 2) His speed figures haven’t improved since he ran in the Los Alamitos Futurity in December, and, 3) He really hasn’t shown any improvement in his races this year.
So there are the top 20 horses, but I need to look at 1 more in the event that there are scratches or other defections.
Blended Citizen: The Doug O’Neil trainee has earned only $31,890 of his total earnings of $196,854 on dirt, he has earned most of his money racing on synthetic surfaces at Golden Gate and Turfway. His most recent start was in the Blue Grass Stakes where he finished 5 th to the likes of Good Magic, Flameaway , Sporting Chance and Free Drop Billy. He has never won a race on a dirt surface in four tries, the last time I looked, CD was a dirt track. I really don’t think he will have an impact in the Derby. So, there you have it, my analysis of the top possible entrants for the Derby. The big question is how will I bet this race? Well there are two colts in here who “checked” all the right boxes - the boxes that point to a Derby winner – Good Magic and Bolt d’Oro. It is hard to separate these two, but something tells me that Chad Brown will win his first Derby with Good Magic (even though he only has 5 career starts), although I could also be talked into betting on Bolt d’Oro to win. I may place a few hundred dollars to win on Good Magic - I will just have to see come Derby day if I place the win bet on Bolt d’Oro instead. I will have a $10 four-horse exacta box with these two and Justify and My Boy Jack. I will make a $1 five- horse trifecta box using Good Magic, Bolt d’Oro, Justify, My Boy Jack and Vino Rosso. I will then play a $1 six-horse superfecta with Good Magic, Bolt d’ Oro, Justify, My Boy Jack, Audible and Vino Rosso. You will notice that I do not plan on making a win bet on the two “curse” of Apollo colts, the seven Storm Cat descendants, the four colts with dosage numbers above 4.00 or the five colts who are May foals. I am following history and statistics in deciding to eliminate the colts that do not have “history” on their side. Hope they don’t let me down by winning!
Things can change between now and race time. As always, I reserve the right to change my mind on these bets depending on what happens between now and Derby day.
Footnotes: Dual Qualifier: Is a colt who was weighted within 10 pounds of the 2-yo high weight in The Jockey Club's Annual Top 2-Year- Old Rankings (this is a weight-based assessment of the previous year's leading 2-year- olds for a hypothetical race at 1 1/16 mile with the top colt assigned a theoretical 126 pounds to carry in the race) and has a dosage index of less than 4.00. The Dosage Index: Is a mathematical figure used by breeders of race horses, and sometimes by bettors handicapping horse races, to quantify a horse's ability, or inability, to negotiate the various distances at which horse races are run. It is calculated based on an analysis of the horse's pedigree. A dosage index of less than 4.00 indicates the ability to get a route of ground (1-1/4 mile or farther). Curse of Apollo: Since 1882, no colt has won the Kentucky Derby who did not race as a 2-yo. Since 1937 61 colts raced in the Derby but did not have a race as a 2-yo – none of them won. Storm Cat futility: Descendants of Storm Cat are 0-51 in their Derby attempts. I know this is a lot to digest, especially for those of you who are not that knowledgeable about thoroughbred racing. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it and I wish you all the best if you decide to bet the 2018 Kentucky Derby.
May the horse be with you.

Breeders Cup Saturday-- Del Mar is normally my worst track to play but the main reason is I have played it the least of all major tracks in my 40 years as a bettor. But i have to play the cards I have been dealt and try to make the most of it.
Race 4: BC Juvenile Fillies: I like the 8) Piedi Banchi(15-1) to win. Her last race saw her follow the speed around on SA speed favoring track and almost overcame one competitor but fell short. Overanalyze is leading first crop sire in terms of winners, but his foals are just now reaching the distance he enjoy most as a runner. With Storm Cat, Unbridled's Song, and Flying Paster in the dam family, she is one I will not overlook. 1) Heavenly Love(9-2) gets the nod to complete my exacta box. Everyone should be familiar with her sire Malibu Moon, but her dam Darling My Darling ran 5th in this race after just missing against Surfside in the G1 Frizette. 2nd dam Roaming Rachel was also a G1 winner that won 9 of 15 lifetime starts that was unplaced just once in her career. I will use the 3)Princess Warrior(12-1) to complete my tri box. 11) Wonder Gadot(8-1) is another that I considered and will complete my super but I like her stablemate a lot more now. WP 8, Ex Box 1-8, Tri Box 1-3-8, Super Box 1-3-8-11.
5th Race: BC Turf Sprint: I will again go with 9)Mongolian Saturday(20-1) to WP. He has won two graded stakes in his life, both at 5 1/2 furlongs, including this race at Keeneland in 2015, but this Saturday he shortens up to five furlongs and is the one horse that can stay close to the early pace and kick home when asked. His broodmare sire, Houston, is a son of TC winner Seattle Slew and Houston broodmare sire, Quadrangle, beat Northern Dancer in the Belmont S solidly preventing him from winning the TC. Sorry, I do not make a habit of betting against this bloodline, especially 6 furlongs or less. 1)Disco Partner(9-2) set Belmont track record for 6 furlongs on turf this year and should be rolling late and will be my exacta box. 2)Holding Gold(15-1) will be my picking to complete the tri. He got beaten less than 2 lengths when 6th in his last and could rebound. 10)Hogy(12-1) is adding blinkers to stay closer to pace and is another that will be flying late. I will try to beat both favorites in here as they are 3 & 4 YO fillies running against the boys(with odds maybe but not as favorites). WP 9, Ex Box 1-9, Tri Box 1-2-9, Super Box 1-2-9-10.
6th Race: BC F&M Sprint: I like 1)Carina Mia(12-1) to WP. She was the beaten favorite in this race last year but was coming off several tough races in a row, including 2 against Songbird. This year, Brown looks like he has pointed her to this race from the start. 8)Constellation(15-1) is my pick to complete my exacta box. Baffert was worked her several times since her last and has given her longer works to build up her stamina(or wind) as she should pop out of the gate and might be long gone, especially on this track. 10)Highway Star(15-1) was the one I originally liked to win but after a closer look, I decided to drop her to my 3rd pick. She beat my top pick late in her last race, but I think that helped Carina Mia more. 11)Unique Bella(9-5) certainly can win this but with only one race in her last 8 months and the fact this is her first race against G1 caliber horses makes me willing to bet against her.
Race 7: BC F&M Turf: 9)Lady Eli(5-2) will be running for the last time Saturday and will be entered to sale at Keeneland's Fall Sale next week. Naturally, she looks tough in here and it will take a huge race to beat her. 14)Rhododendron(8-1) should not be overlooked. After finishing second in this year's Epsom Oaks, she dnf her next start, though I do not know what happen. But her last start, she returned to form, beating the best older fillies in France at 1 1/4 miles. She shortens up to 1 1/8 mile(this year only) for this race and should enjoy this trip even more. Her sire is Galileo, but her dam was a G1 winning miler in Europe that ran 6th in this race when it was ran at 1 1/4 mile after setting the pace. 4)Zipessa(20-1) returned to form 2 starts back as she lead throughout but was caught by Miss Temple City at the wire at KD. She then rated slightly off the pace and won the G1 First Lady on grass at a mile. She is probably the most likely to outlast Lady Eli because last year, in this race, she broke poorly, but was making up ground throughout and finished 5th, beaten 3 1/4 lengths while wide. With a better break, she can sit the perfect trip and get first jump on the others. I also think 1)War Flag(12-1) will be around at the finish. While I will include Lady Eli in my P6, my WP bet will go on Zipessa. WP4, Ex Box 4-14, Tri Box 4-9-14. Super Box 1-4-9-14. P3, P6 Tickets will include 4 & 9.
8th Race: BC Sprint: 10)Imperial Hint(9-2) will be my pick to win. His sire Imperialism ran 3rd behind Smarty Jones but was much better at sprinting as he won three G2 races in California. His broodmare sire is Lahint, a full brother to Preakness & Belmont winner Hansel. Imperial Hint, himself, has won 8 of 12 starts on or near the lead and he was several solid works indicating all systems are go. Castellano has agreed to take the mount. At the very least, he should bother Drefong throughout and harm his chances of winning. 9)Ransom The Moon(12-1) should sit behind two dueling speed horses and get first run on the leaders. His last saw him try to close into SA strong speed bias and against a slow than normal pace, especially G1 completion. He will get the pace he desires Saturday and has 2 solid works since. 1)Calculator(20-1) will also get a pace he has not seen in a while and will be rolling late. He, too, has several solid works since his last and John Velazquez has accepted the mount. 5)Whitmore(15-1) looks like he is back to his best form and could get a piece, though I like my other picks better. WP 9, Ex Box 9-10, Tri Box 1-9-10, Super Box 1-5-9-10. Right Now Keying 10 in P3, P6 bets, but might add the 9 later.
Race 9: I will bet 7)Om(20-1) to WP. He ran second in the BC Turf Sprint last year at huge odds and returns this year in the mile turf. Last year he ran a series of mile turf to prepare for the sprint and this year he has ran in a couple sprints preparing for the mile. Hendricks knows what he is doing and is usually under the radar. He won two of the biggest turf races for 3 YOs in California and ran third in the other at 4-5. His bloodlines is not one I am willing to bet against, especially when they are in top form. 6)Zelzal(20-1) is my pick to finish 2nd. While I am not very familiar with his trainer, I do know he has sent a couple over here that blew up the exactas and tris when overlooked. After Zelzal rasn a dull G1 mile race on grass, this trainer also shorten him up to a sprint against the best sprinters in Europe in his 3rd start of the year. In the BC Mile, it will mark his 4th start of the year. His sire, Sea The Stars, is a half brother to Galileo and lost once in his 9 start career(in a maiden race) while being voted European Horse Of The Year in 2009. Another horse that I can not leave out due to his breeding. 10)Ribchester(7-2) is the morning line favorite and would be no surprise. He has ran in all G1 races this year, winning 3 with 2 seconds 1 third, all at 1 mile on grass. His bloodlines also signals it would be a mistake to throw him out. Several could hang around for 4th in here, but I will settle for 1)Midnight Storm(15-1), since he ran third in this race last year. I always felt he was better on grass, but he also had the type of speed that benefits on California dirt. WP 7, Ex Box 6-7, Tri Box 6-7-10, Super Box 1-6-7-10. P3, P4, P6 Bets are 6 and 7.
10th Race: I like the 7) The Tabulator(20-1) to jump out front and be tough to run down. He is still learning but should be a good one when everything clicks, which could be as early as Saturday. 1)U S Navy Flag(8-1) will be my pick to finish 2nd, mostly because he has twice as much experience as the rest and his last 2 G1 wins were the 2 biggest races in England for 2 YOs. 4)Givemeaminit (20-1) will be my pick to run third. He is a maiden but since Stewart, who like Pletcher learned under D Wayne Lukas, trains him and he rarely puts a horse where he does not belong. His last race in the Breeders Futurity, he was caught in traffic while Free Drop Billy was clear throughout. 11) Bolt D'Oro(9-5) on paper looks like he is many lengths better, but his final time in his last was slow on that track and he was asked the whole way down the stretch. Either he improves and wins or he regresses and takes a step back. My guess is the latter but I have been wrong before. His breeding is not a problem either. WP 7, Ex Box 1-7, Tri Box 1-4-7, Super Box 1-4-7-11. P3, P4, P6 bets will be 1 and 7.
11th Race: BC Turf: I will use the 5)Ulysses(7-2) in my P3, P4, & P6 bets simply because he has ran against the toughest competition this year. But I like the 1)Talismanic(15-1) to win. He has ran in all 1 1/2 miles distance races and gave a good effort in every race this year. His trainer Andre Fabre has won 3 BC races, including 2 BC Turfs and a F&M Turf. He also was the first trainer of Flintshire, who ran 2nd in this race last year for Brown. 4) Decorated Knight(15-1) is stretching out for this try, much like Ulysses, but acts like he wants more distance also. He briefly went off form but his last race indicated he has returned to top form. His dam, Pearling, is a full sister to Giant's Causeway. This race is really up for grabs, but I will use the 13)Sadler's Joy(12-1), simply because this distance suits him perfectly and the pace looks to be strong for this race. He would be higher on my list except his post may hurt. WP 1, Ex Box 1-5, Tri Box 1-4-5, Super Box 1-4-5-13.
EDIT: Ulysses has scratched. I will now use the 1)Talismanic in the P6, and add the 4)Decorated Knight & 7)Itsinthepost in P3 & P4 bets. I will use 7)Itsinthepost in place of Ulysses, in exacta, trifecta & super boxes.
12th Race: BC Classic: I can envision this race to be ran several different ways, unlike last year. First, if Arrogate has return to top form, he will win and become the US first $20M earnings winner in purses. However, I think Baffert knows if he does not go after Gun Runner early, he will not run Gun Runner down. Gun Runner is much improved since earlier this year and he is working like it too. But if Arrogate has to pick up the chase too early, then 9) Gunnevera(30-1) and 10)Pavel(20-1) will have a say late in the race. I simply believe Gunnevera is the class closer in here and he can pull off a giant upset. Pavel is lightly race but his last was against an only speed where he picked up the chase much too early. But when he has been able to sit behind dueling speed horses, he finishes up as good as any of these. WP 10, Ex Box 9-10, Tri Box 5-9-10, Super Box 1-5-9-10. P3 and P4 tickets 1 and 10(considering P6 tickets on both also).

Hello i'm a guy who gets into horse racing for 1 week out of the year and likes to do research and think i have it figured it out...that's never the case. Anyway i have a friend that goes to the derby every year and i send him down with $50 to make 4 $2 trifecta box picks with 3 horse each. I just found out through here that it's possible to make 4 horse trifecta boxes and i'm intrigued.
i looked over my bets and realized i could easily make 2 4 horse trifectas and be making the same picks as my 3 horse trifectas. My question is, is it better to place 4 $2 3 horse trifectas or 2 $1 4 horse trifectas? i think the latter has less risk so i'm guessing it's a smaller payout?
also is there any place to calculate your possible payout? like where i can set up my bet put in my horses odds and it would tell me how much money i'll make if i hit? just wondering if i'm dreaming of a 12' aluminum boat or a sweet new bass boat. Thank you!

Hello,
I am looking for someone with a great MATH IQ that is interested in creating a financial model/calculator.
THE PLAN: 1. Creating an algorithm where I rank the horses in order of odds (Greatest chance of winning, to the least likely based on the odds provided) 2. Hedging a wager, where I place money on every horse to win in varying amounts and wager combinations (Exacta, Trifecta & Superfecta) in hopes of generating a minimum of 10% or more in profits and at the worst, breaking even. 3. The combined wagers, should not exceed $150 for the one race. 4. I think, this can be accomplished on races with 5 horses. 5. This is a plan for passive income that can hopefully snowball(quickly) into a retirement plan.
TRACK - Delaware YEAR - 2015

1 Ranked HORSE RANK, 1st Place: 25, 2nd Place: 23, 3rd Place: 10

2 Ranked HORSE RANK, 1st Place: 18, 2nd Place: 18, 3rd Place: 18

3 Ranked HORSE RANK, 1st Place: 13, 2nd Place: 13, 3rd Place: 10

4 Ranked HORSE RANK, 1st Place: 8, 2nd Place: 9, 3rd Place: 10

5 Ranked HORSE RANK, 1st Place: 3, 2nd Place: 4, 3rd Place: 10

Please let me know your thoughts.
If you cannot, I understand and respect your honesty and time.
Best, -sp