If Vladimir Putin and Barack Obama had a tipping column, the world would be a safer place. There is nothing like selecting losing horses to puncture self-importance, self-aggrandisement and overconfidence. This wry observation, adapted for modern times, comes to me from my dusty old library of horse racing literature, to which I turned this week to find inspiration on punditry and the turf. With these new betting pages in the paper, one feels obliged to be a wee bit more tipsterish.I need inspiration for picking nags as much as you punters need advice on how to efficiently allocate the resources of your purse.I e-mailed some old betting chums for advice on these arcane subjects.The Merry Widow, renowned for coups on horses she backed because of their cute names, or because they were grey, replied somewhat mystifyingly: "Just tell those readers to remember that Lady Godiva put all she had on a horse."Colonel Machinegun, a crusty old warrior of the betting ring, had a surprisingly sober response: "Bet enough to hurt but not to do damage, and never less and never more."This is the guy who often trots out the old vignette: "The only way to beat the bookies is over the soft part of the skull with a crowbar."For some reason this reminds me of the wise words of American comedian WC Fields: "Bookmakers are pickpockets that allow you to use your own hands."But we mustn't be too hard on bookmakers for they provide us mere mortals with the means to indulge an urge to flutter. And on these pages there's plenty of means and urges.Here's an interesting observation from a social anthropologist called Kate Fox: "Bookies perform a social function which is, in some respects, similar to that of the medieval 'sin-eater' - someone hired for funerals to take upon himself the sins of the deceased."So successful has been the transfer of sin to this marginalised caste that punters speak proudly of 'beating the bookies' as though they were knights in shining armour doing battle against the forces of darkness."The battle this weekend starts early, today in fact, with the biggest race of a weekend's modest fare on Port Elizabeth's Polytrack.The Cradock Place Stakes has only eight participants, so finding the winner should be a piece of cake. Yeah, right: ever see what WC Fields did with a piece of cake, or a custard pie?The line-up for the 1200m sprint is distinguished by the presence of gallant eight-year-old Copper Parade, who has travelled the country from his base at Yvette Bremner's PE yard and won some very big races. One simply can't leave out of any betting combo such a consistent, brave campaigner, even though he carries a hefty 61kg.Lugging the same weight is handy six-year-old speedster The West is Wide, and Mesmerize, Russian Mig, Vauclair and Telestai have claims.Yes, I know, that's just about the whole field. But I'll opt for safety first and mention yet another one as my selection to win: Frederick Fox, a youth of four years, callow by comparison with some of the battle-hardened old-timers. He has one big thing in his favour, a featherweight of 53.5kg.I won't be bombing Syria next week...