I shall tell you a story of two boys. One of them was very clever and a naturally gifted sportsman but he did not really work hard to develop his talents as for him there was no point in practising, he was good anyway. The other boy was not so clever, he, however worked very hard and dilligently to achieve. I shall let you to guess which of the boys achieved better in life.
While you are thinking about the answer to the question here is another true story about a boxer who was the best of them all, or was he really? Read to find out.
Every evening Otakar was queuing up to buy tickets in front of a sport’s palace. Once he still had half an hour left. He therefore went to have dinner in a nearby restaurant.
Otakar met a good old friend there who was a professor of sport. They were both going to have a look at a boxing dual between Belt and Rusty.
Otakar thought it could be a good even match, as both competitiors are of equal weight; they are excellently worked out champions.
Two smartly dressed men were interested who would the professor recommend for a bet as the winner. They thought the professor might suggest Rusty.
But the professor was speechless as he was not betting on anybody today, said it would be too easy a win. The official recommendations were to bet on Rusty guaranteeing even a 1: 10 win.
The two men blinked at the teacher of sport and laid a bet of five Pounds on Rusty.
When Otakar was laying his bet down, the professor advised him to put 10 Pounds on Belt.
Ten Pounds! But that’s a whole fortune! - Otakar wanted to call out. Presently he realised, however, that his friend is moving daily in the best sport circles, among champions and trainers, and so he has access to information, others cannot find out. On top of that he knows about the not so pleasing financial situation of Otakar’s private bosing school. Otakar laid therefore 10 Pounds on Belt’s victory. Even though it looked at the beginning that Rusty had an advantage he eventually lost to Belt.
Otakar is going to pick up his winning money from the betting office. The cashier pays him hundred Pounds; he would never earn such a pile of money not even in five months.
Otakar’s friend is awaiting him in front of the Sport Palace. Otakar wants to know whether the professor had some kind of confidential news from the coach, or was it all agreed? Theatre? Or some kind of backstage secrets?
“Everything in front of the eyes of the public,” said the teacher of sport, and at the moment when the famous London Big Ben started to beat ten he continued.
This morning the professor went into the office and who didn’t he meet? Rusty! He was returning from a nightclub with some kind of high-spirited party. A cigar was sticking out of his mouth; alcohol stank out of his mouth a mile away. To the professor’s question of where he was all night he murmured with the loud and hiccupping agreement of his party that he was at home under blankets. The teacher of sport bent his shoulders while walking. And when twelve hours before a decisive match he catches the champion being blunt, not rested, hardly standing on his legs, and when he wanted to cut him short (either on his own or with the support of his party) with a lie, then the professor’s advice is to bet without hesitation on his defeat.