My Inclination Towards Self-Congratulation Is Shameless And Knows No Bounds

..... Plus, I felt compelled to provide a quick-fix, stopgap post this week in place of any real, new material.  [Foreshadowing/Spoiler Alert: The Old Master of the Turf likes Materiality in the Belmont Stakes, two weeks from this Saturday.]

Among the four Preakness Day Pick 4 races I addressed in last week's post, I hit the front and back end of the Pick 4 wager - which pays nothing - and cashed a straight Win bet on Holy Boss in that exotic wager's first leg.  It was the only ticket I cashed, permitting me to break even on the afternoon.  Much as on Derby Day, I had winners in 50% of the races upon which I wagered (having included Preakness Stakes winner American Pharoah in my Pick 4).  Shrinking Violet in the second leg of the Pick 4 finished third by little more than a length, so I was that close to having three of four correct in the Pick 4.  Which still pays nothing.

Beyond that, my prognostication bona fides were further enhanced by my correctly identifying that Dortmund, the second wagering choice in the Morning Line odds, would go off at post time as the third wagering choice.  Additionally, the only other forecast I made for the day placed the chance for rain at 90% (and the rain fell in torrents) far out-pacing the so-called professional meteorologists and their weak-sister 30% chance predictions. 

Doppler Heavy Artillery, the true weather authority!

And oddsmaker.

And all-around great guy.

For my next trick, I am predicting for myself a peanut butter sammich for lunch today.

Roll the credits!