Living History

Gatum Gatum

Every year, around the start of November, I used to take whichever girl I was courting at the time out for a day at the races. Normally we would head down, watch the horses, make a few bets and have a couple of drinks afterwards. Of course in November, the race was the Melbourne Cup, and in 1963 the girl was the daughter of one of my dad's old friends.

I had been coerced by my dad into taking her out, although I did think she was very pretty. Our Cup-Day date happened about five months into the relationship that formed from that forced date, and it was certainly interesting. We arrived in the late morning and got some drinks, before heading out to pick a good spot near the fence to watch the horses. Things were going pretty well overall, I hadn't won anything but I was enjoying watching her show off her outfit and she was enjoying me tell her all about the industry - which we both knew I had no clue about.

When the big race came around I was deciding on my bets. My date turned to me about began giggling as I stared intently at the form.

"What are you laughing at?" I asked her.

"You haven't won anything all day, hon."

"That just means I'm due!" We chuckled to each other and I went off to place a small bet on a horse called Gatum Gatum. Shouting back to her, "If this one comes in, I'll marry you and we'll live on the winnings!"

The race rolled around and amazingly my horse came in! I managed to pocket a small win (although not enough to cover my other losses) and it was the most exciting Cup Day I can remember. We didn't get married after that of course, nothing so outlandish. She and I dated for a while longer before parting ways, but I always remember that day. It was the last time I ever won a bet, as well.

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