At the Galway Races, Mick noticed a priest who stepped out onto the track
and blessed the forehead of one of the horses lining up for the 4th race.
Lo and behold, that horse - a very long shot - won the race.
Before the next race, as the horses began lining up, Mick watched with
interest as the old priest stepped onto the track again. Sure enough, as the 5th race horses came to the line the priest made a blessing on the forehead of one of the horses.
Mick made a beeline for the nearest bookie and placed a small bet
on the horse. Again, even though it was another long shot, the horse the
priest had blessed won the race.
Mick collected his winnings, and anxiously waited to see if the priest would bless a horse in the 6th race. Sure enough, out he comes and blesses a horse.
Mick bet big on it, and it won. As the races continued, the priest kept blessing long shot horses, and each one ended up coming in first.
Bye and bye, Mick was pulling in some serious money. By the last
race, he knew his wildest dreams were going to come true. He made a quick
dash to the ATM, withdrew all his savings, and awaited the priest's
blessing that would tell him which horse to bet on.
True to his pattern, the priest stepped onto the track for the
last race and blessed the forehead of an absolute donkey, an old nag that was the longest shot of the day. Mick also observed the priest blessing the eyes, ears and hooves of the old nag.
He knew he had a big winner here and bet every penny he owned on the poor old thing. He then watched dumbfounded as the horse come in dead last. In a state of shock, made his way into the bar where the priest was having a pint.
He demanded, "Father! What happened? All day long you blessed horses and they all won. Then in the last race,the horse you blessed lost by a country mile. Now, thanks to you I've lost every ha'penny of my savings - all of it!".
The priest nodded wisely and with sympathy. "Son," he said,
"That's the problem with you Protestants, sure youse can't tell the difference
between a simple blessing and the last rites."
and blessed the forehead of one of the horses lining up for the 4th race.
Lo and behold, that horse - a very long shot - won the race.
Before the next race, as the horses began lining up, Mick watched with
interest as the old priest stepped onto the track again. Sure enough, as the 5th race horses came to the line the priest made a blessing on the forehead of one of the horses.
Mick made a beeline for the nearest bookie and placed a small bet
on the horse. Again, even though it was another long shot, the horse the
priest had blessed won the race.
Mick collected his winnings, and anxiously waited to see if the priest would bless a horse in the 6th race. Sure enough, out he comes and blesses a horse.
Mick bet big on it, and it won. As the races continued, the priest kept blessing long shot horses, and each one ended up coming in first.
Bye and bye, Mick was pulling in some serious money. By the last
race, he knew his wildest dreams were going to come true. He made a quick
dash to the ATM, withdrew all his savings, and awaited the priest's
blessing that would tell him which horse to bet on.
True to his pattern, the priest stepped onto the track for the
last race and blessed the forehead of an absolute donkey, an old nag that was the longest shot of the day. Mick also observed the priest blessing the eyes, ears and hooves of the old nag.
He knew he had a big winner here and bet every penny he owned on the poor old thing. He then watched dumbfounded as the horse come in dead last. In a state of shock, made his way into the bar where the priest was having a pint.
He demanded, "Father! What happened? All day long you blessed horses and they all won. Then in the last race,the horse you blessed lost by a country mile. Now, thanks to you I've lost every ha'penny of my savings - all of it!".
The priest nodded wisely and with sympathy. "Son," he said,
"That's the problem with you Protestants, sure youse can't tell the difference
between a simple blessing and the last rites."
