Many many years ago I was invited on a race day to Epsom, champagne breakfast at 8.30 before getting on the coach. I was quite shocked at the amount of people playing cards on the way there, winning and losing heavily. This would have been in the 80's, I took about £50 or £60 quid for the day just to have a flutter, all drinks and food were gratis. Everyone on the trip worked in freight forwarding at Heathrow, one of the the guests was a lovely chap called Cliff Bennett, who in the 60's had a group called 'Cliff Bennett and the rebel rousers', successful group whose biggest hit was 'got to get you into my life'. He'd finished all that and had a small forwarding company at Heathrow, I think he later went back into music when there was a demand for 'nostalgia tours'.
Anyway, last race of the day, we look at the names of the horses and there was a runner called 'rebel rouser', it was a divine intervention, a message from God himself. I think without exception everyone in the group put every last penny they had on that horse, the bastard came last.