Grand National Betting / Jack Houghton / 03 April 2009 / 1 Comments

Whether your method is names, numbers or Pooh sticks, all-round clever chap and monstrous intellectual Jack Houghton knows which mighty triumvirate should carry your money on Saturday.

Either Kilbeggan Blade, Parsons Legacy or Rambling Minster will win this year's Grand National. I know this because I'm an award-winning racing journalist, who used to work for a betting company, who wrote a best-selling book about betting (published in two languages). When it comes to racing, I'm an all-round clever chap. Honest.

And yet despite declaring - upfront and out loud - the mighty triumvirate who should carry your money, there will still be some amongst you once-yearly wagerers who ignore what I'm saying and will embark on their own selection process. Fools. Don't you know I've spent hours plotting, mathematically, exactly what will happen come 4.15pm on Saturday? Do you really think your amateurish ways will outwit my monstrous intellect?

Unfortunately, an edict passed down by the editorial borg-collective at betting.betfair says I have to be nice to all you part timers: "Write something inclusive, aimed at those visiting the site for the first time on Grand National day. Talk about some alternative selection strategies." The editors are not people to be ignored.

Okay, think of a number. Double it. Add 38. Divide by two. Take away the number you first thought of. The horse with that number might win. Not happy? Think of another number. Double it. Add 62. Divide by two. Take away the number you first thought of. Still not happy? Last time. Think of a number. Double it. Add 66. Divide by two. Take away the number you first thought of.

This might seem random. Trust me, it's not. These formulae actually lie at the heart of a book called Reperio Nationalum Logica, written by Augustine of Hippo in the fifth century: the first time anyone had tried to apply mathematical rigour to the Grand National selection process. Despite being revisited many times, by many notable minds (Einstein cut his teeth on the "National Conundrum", as it became known, before departing for simpler climbs), Augustine's original has proved an incredibly reliable barometer of National success. Apart from a period during Edward II's reign, when the race was moved from Aintree to the Norfolk Broads, Augustine's seemingly simple approach has correctly predicted the winner on 94 per cent of occasions.

If maths isn't really your thing, you might like to focus on names. Patsy Ball, who I saw on a documentary about an old Woolworths store in Dorchester, will presumably be backing Patsy Hall. The resemblance is uncanny. Their names are quite similar too. And no doubt those called Stan, Chelsea and Ollie will spend little time agonising over what to back. Old-school hacks will back Fleet Street, new-school soldiers Battlecry, fans of Radiohead's early work Zabenz. Religious types might support Priests Leap. Very religious types Fundamentalist. No matter who you are; you will find a name that resonates. But ask yourself this: does such mindless nonsense stack up against the cerebral processes of Augustine?

I met a woman once who insisted she had backed every National winner in her lifetime by choosing the racecard number that coincided with the commencement date of her menstrual cycle. A chap once told me he had a similar record, by following his favourite colour: brown.

Another approach - that actually assesses potential racing ability - is to buy yourself 40 ice-lolly sticks (available from all good cookware shops). Carefully cut out the names of each horse from Betfair's free Grand National racecard and stick a name to each stick.

Find a stream with a picturesque footbridge. The stream should be flowing but not torrential. Ensure you know which way the stream is flowing and launch the sticks off the upstream side of the footbridge. In the trade, we call this launch the water jump (chortle). If there is a false start, with a stick or two garnering an unfair advantage at launch, ask a friend to stand downstream and ineffectually wave a white flag in the hope of recalling the errant racers. Presuming the start is fair, rush to the downstream side of the bridge and note, carefully, which stick (horse) emerges first. You may wish, at this point, as I did, that you had in some way waterproofed the names. If you can read what's on the stick: there's your winner.

Or you could just back either Kilbeggan Blade, Parsons Legacy or Rambling Minster. One of them will win. Augustine tells us so.