Hedging your bets

Phumla Matjila: Eish! Poor Stanley Philander! A R91-million dream shattered in just a matter of days. I feel sorry for the oke. Truly.

Imagine going to bed with the priceless reassurance that only loads and loads of money can give you, only to wake and be told: "Sorry boet, not a chance!"

I'd go bonkers!

Imagine how difficult it was for Philander to fall sleep on the night he "realised" that he was the winner of South Africa's biggest Lotto haul.

I can't bring myself to sleep the night before I buy a new pair of shoes or get a new hairstyle. That kind of money and anxiety would send me straight to my grave.

The poor chap must have been up all night making plans about what he would do with all that money . the big house, the sports car, the good wishes from his boss - who would suddenly become his biggest fan - South Africa's private banks offering him the lowest rates for keeping his money and financial advisers offering their services to make sure that he made more money than he already had, not to mention the many women who would suddenly find him utterly irresistible. You can't fall asleep in such a state.

But some dreams, remain just that, pipe dreams.

Philander can get some comfort in the fact that, at least for most of us, as the money-wise "Iron Lady" Margaret Thatcher once said: "Pennies do not come from heaven. They have to be earned here on Earth."

I have to admit that my initial reaction to the news that Philander had won the record lottery was envy and stomach-turning, palpitation-inducing, heart-burning jealousy.

"Why him?" I asked myself. I didn't even know there was a PowerBall on Friday. I thought it was only held on Tuesday, or is it Wednesday?

They say that money talks, but I can tell you this much, a lack of it makes you talk nasty.

However, as I began to come to terms with Philander's good fortune and focus on the next draw - I made a promise to actually play PowerBall - I felt sorry for the guy for having made his loot public.

Big mistake, I thought. He should have just gone to Brazil, enjoyed the remnants of the Carnival and thought clearly about all of this while sipping mojitos and tapping his feet to the samba.

And when the news broke that he was not the winner, I felt pity for Philander. I wouldn't wish this kind of misfortune even on the motorists who zap past me just as the road narrows, only to brake and cause a commotion in front of me with their tyres screeching and rubber burning. Such madness!

Unlike Bob Monkhouse, who wrote in The Times of London: "Statistically, you stand just as good a chance of winning the lottery if you don't buy a ticket," poor Philander has just proved that if the idea has ever crossed your desperate-to-win-the-Lotto mind, you don't stand a chance - at all - if you buy a ticket after the draw!

So, did Philander genuinely believe that he was the winner of the biggest prize so far in the national lottery? Or was he just taking a chance, hoping for the best? After all, the lottery is about taking chances!