Punting is stressful, you can bet on that

ALREADY, I FEEL THE BLOOD PRESSURE RISING, AND I’M TWO WEEKS OUT FROM MY PUNT.

ABOUT 10 years ago I swore I’d never do it again.

At the time it had become one of the most stressful things in my life, and so I swore that that was it, never again.

Most of my mates were involved in this undesirable activity, and I’d since avoided their approaches as if they were shopping centre donation collectors.

Then, at a vulnerable moment last week as I sat in front of the TV wondering why I was suddenly a Nick Kyrgios fan, I gave in to a mate’s phone request and joined a bloody punters’ club.

For mine, there is no more frustrating and/or stressful pursuit in social life than the punters club or footy tipping competition.

Particularly with my ultra-competitive mates.

As if it’s not stressful enough trying to pick a winner among the plethora of gallopers going around on a Saturday, but I’m also competing against my mates.

Although the punters club is supposed to be a team effort with the winnings (should there be any) shared among the team at the end of the 45-week punting period, there is always an underlying competition of who wins the most and who doesn’t.

I’ve been a court reporter for more than 25 years, but I swear the dirtiest looks I’ve ever received have been from my mates when I’ve blown my punt when it’s my turn.

“What did ya back that nag for?” is the typical response (the language toned down for this family friendly column) when I come back with zilch to show in the winnings column – which I foresee in two weeks’ time when it’s my first punt.

Yet, this punters’ club is even potentially more stressful than usual.

Normally, we have a club of 10 who take turns on the punt on a rotation basis.

But, some bright spark has come up with the idea of splitting the team into two squads of five and for the two teams to compete against each other.

In other words, I’ve gone from competing against mates in my team to competing against mates in my team as well as competing with mates in the other team.

So why do I do it, you may ask?

One, because I’m stupid, and like most men, I never learn.

And, two, despite the potential stress involved, I, like my mates, couldn’t resist the opportunity to sledge the others should they fail.

As I’ve said before, being mates with this mob is exhausting. Most of us have been mates for 40-plus years and this unrelenting sledging has been going on since we were teenagers.

Is it any wonder people are shocked when they find out we’re only in our 50s such has the stress aged us before our time.

“Gee, I thought you guys were with the Rolling Stones,” is a regular observation from younger, more cruel, punters.

But back to the punting and the associated stress.

So, after 45 weeks of punting, the winning team will get to scoop the pool with our pub “The Nash” throwing in an extra $500.

I’ve been trying to negotiate that the $500 be put on the bar for all 10 punters, but my ever confident mates in the opposing team are resisting my suggestion.

One week in and already the stress levels have risen with our team scoring a return of just $15 from a $50 outlay while our opposition, hitherto to be known as The Grubs, picked up a handy $90.

Already, I feel the blood pressure rising, and I’m two weeks out from my first punt.