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      When Uncle Walter noticed my long face, he just laughed, asked me how much of a ducking I’d taken, and peeled enough off his roll to cover my losses.
      “You like the horses, kid?” he asked, laughing. “Just wait till tomorrow. I’ll show you something different, again.”
      The next day, we went to Jai Alai. In the car, on the way out, my uncle told me all about the game. “It’s a great sport,” he said. “Lotsa action, great athletes, really, and it’s crooked as hell. We don’t bet a lot. Here, we just come for the fun and you gotta figure that betting this is like playing Bingo or something, unless you’re on the inside. Which I’m not here. Other things, sometimes, maybe, sure, but Jai Alai, I’m just another civilian.”
      It was a wild game, and moved so fast that I could never figure out who was winning, but I knew for sure it was never me. For the second day in a row, I lost all my money.
      “Sonny,” uncle Walter said, as he again reimbursed me for my losses. “I warned you about this game. You’d be better off throwing your money in one of those fountains and making a wish. At least there’s chance it would come in for you. I tell you what. Let’s go back to the track tomorrow. That’ll be good. We should be able to get ourselves a couple of winners if we do our homework tonight.”
      Back at the house, my Aunt Debbie served us dinner. Uncle Walter had explained on the way home that my aunt didn’t like to hear business discussions at the table, so we talked about everything except the track.
      Afterward, my uncle and I sat in the living room, while he mumbled over the next day’s lineup. “Here’s one for sure, I’ll tell you,” he said, after a few minutes, holding up his paper and pointing to a name. “This horse has only one eye. Now, at first you might think it’s crazy betting on a one-eyed horse, but let me show you something here. If that horse is racing and he’s only got one eye, there’s gotta be something really good about him, or they’d a sold him to the glue factory long ago. Look at who’s up on him. I know that jockey, and he’s the cleverest son of a bitch around. If anyone can make a half blind horse win he’s your boy. That’s as sure a win as if you were past posting.”
      “I don’t know what you mean by past posting, Uncle Walter.”

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