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Roy the Boy's betting guide to India

NEWS STORY
23/10/2013

I've hatched a cunning plan to get myself into the pits at a Grand Prix with an all-areas pass. Don't get me wrong, I know such a golden ticket allowing you into the equivalent of Willy Wonka's factory will not be cheap, but then again the purchase of Aldershot football club wasn't.

A 19-year-old by the name of Spencer Trethewy completed that transaction back in the nineties. He was the club's saviour delivering them from closure. But there was one small problem, he didn't have as much as his college dinner money in his pocket.

It was a common theme during the decade. Another club rolled out its mystery buyer before the press and cheering fans picturing him clutching the team's strip explaining how he was going to inject 12 million over the next three seasons. Within three days however it was discovered he worked behind the bar at local working man's club and didn't own a cheque book let alone the millions of which he boasted.

For less than a bag of sand, a grand, I'll pull off my coup in a far more convincing fashion. I'll be king for the day.

It's 33 to change your name by deed pole (23 if you are in receipt of unemployment benefits or, worryingly, have previously changed your name). Naturally I'm going to pluck a common enough name out of the air but one that coincidently corresponds with the owner of a high-profile football club, MD of an insurance company, chairman of a payday loan company or something of a similar ilk.

Next up I'm going to hire a suit (90), an escort to act as my PA (175), and a Lamborghini Aventador (595) for the day. On my drive, to Oxfordshire, I'm going to prominently park those wheels outside of a helicopter charter company entering to explain my predicament. Namely, in addition to investing in an F1 team, I'm looking to award a contract to transport my top executives to every premiership and cup game of the season via helicopter. I will, of course, need to sample their product and that will involve an introductory complimentary flight to a forthcoming GP.

On to the HQ of said prominent F1 team, throwing my Lamborghini keys to the gateman before announcing my arrival to the board and intention to take a major shareholding in the business.

Naturally I'd soon have to confirm I'm no Branson-style fly-by-night, offering long term commitment and, for authenticity, I'd have to explain I'm expecting my 15-year-old nephew, currently competing towards the back of the grid in the Fiesta Junior Championships, to have a full F1 race drive in 2015.

To close the deal I'd like my helicopter met at the helipad of a forthcoming GP where I can be whisked off to enjoy the best hospitality they can throw at me and experience the excitement of an F1 weekend from the pits first-hand.

It's such a shame I can't get this all in place for the coming weekend as I'd love to have the returning helicopter pilot divert via a high-street betting shop where I would collect a carrier bag full of winnings.

I mean it's easy isn't it? If there are a few chins on the floor at McLaren garage there can hardly be a barrage of champagne corks deafening the neighbours at Ferrari where the promising sparks of the early season have resolutely refused to burst into flames. Meanwhile Mercedes looks a shadow of the super qualifying race winning team they were mid-season and they no longer have tyre-wear to blame for their disappointments.

In an uncompetitive year only four teams have been on the podium and only two of them seem intent in taking the remainder of the current season seriously: Red Bull and Lotus.

Winner of his last five races embracing all types of circuits it is folly to oppose Sebastian Vettel. Statistically, with just five podium finishes from 15 races, it's also folly to back Mark Webber at long odds-on to collect a silver or bronze trophy.

And so could Lotus enjoy another 2-3 as they did in Korea? To me it looks inevitable at least one of the Lotus drivers will be on the rostrum and, despite Raikkonen having podiumed an impressive eight times this season, I'm opting for the once errant but much improved Romain Grosjean to do the job at an attractive price.

The French may have a long history of turning on their allies and befriending their enemies but the Finns don't have a great track record either. Besides Grosjean is about as French as a Japanese Honda Civic built in Swindon.

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