DEATH and taxes – they’re the only sure things a punter can rely on.
You can get 1,000/1 on Elvis Presley being found alive 35 years after he was laid to rest in Gracelands.
Despite only turning his toes up relatively recently, Michael Jackson is a similar price to be found moonwalking around Wisconsin, Lord Lucan is a more generous 750/1 shot, while the prospect of finding a dinosaur stalking the earth – Jurassic Park style – is 5,000/1.
But the chances of you or I cheating death? They’re non-existent.
Like taxes, death is even more of a racing certainty than Frankel – but a lot less appealing.
And while it’s not a topic any of us like to dwell on, a little forward financial planning is always beneficial to your nearest and dearest.
Do your loved ones know the password to your online BetFred account?
Of course not. Do they even know how many online accounts you have? Probably not.
So what’s going to happen to any credit you’ve built up if you walk in front of the X2 on the way home tonight?
Most punters like to see cash in their online accounts. It gives a rosy glow that you’re ahead of the game.
My Betfair account currently has the grand total of £33 in it. Possibly more if you’re reading this after Liverpool’s Europa League clash in Anzhi – and the game’s gone the way I hope.
Bet365 is currently holding £66.36p of the hard earned Prentice houskeeping – hopefully temporarily.
While my William Hill credit account shows a profit of £19.68 – and always will unless I can win another 33p (Hill’s only send a cheque – or demand payment – when you win more than twenty quid).
Now admittedly your loved ones will have more pressing financial matters to worry about than chasing up betting dues – from next April Sefton’s going to be the most expensive place in the country to die.
The cost of being cremated will rise to £750 and a burial will be £900 – but you’re likely to go more peacefully if you know the bookies haven’t gone one over on you after you’ve gone.
After all, if you owed them you can guarantee they’d be chasing up their debts.
So what happens to your betting accounts when you sleep the Big Sleep?
The punter’s champion – the marvellous website Punter’s Verdict – has given the matter plenty of thought.
And The Judge has discovered that “Betfair, for example, leave the account dormant . . . for 12 months.
“The balance just sits there waiting (vainly) for you to start using it again.
“If you don’t use the account for 12 months and your next of kin don’t come forward to claim the balance as part of your estate then Betfair will start to charge a monthly inactivity fee – slowly draining your entire balance.
“It will be a similar story with your other betting and gaming accounts. They will lie dormant waiting for you to return. But – when you don’t – the funds will, at some point, disappear into the ether.
“Betting firms will expend a lot of energy telling you that they never appropriate funds in dormant accounts or that the funds are distributed to charity, regulatory bodies or the State. But the bottom line is that when your loved ones don’t know where to look they don’t get access to funds that are rightfully theirs.”
The Judge actually offers a Digital Executor service to ensure that your accounts and assets are handled in accordance with your wishes in the event of your death.
It’s got to be better than letting the bookies beat you after you’ve gone.