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Chapter 1 - Diary of a trader

It all began one Sunday in Portsmouth, around the time Duran Duran were making regular appearances on Top of the Pops.
"Now then," said my dad. "If you score more than 1,000 points on this pinball machine, I'll give you 50p and another glass of Tizer. But if you get less than 500 you lose 10p from this week's pocket money."
This, I suppose, was my very first spread bet. And I rose to the challenge. 50p was well worth having, and the fear of losing 10p didn't even enter my head.
It was ten years before I would legitimately be able to order a scotch and soda, but already, I was a pinball wizard in a child-friendly pub. Even so, 1,000 points on a machine where you needed only 800 to get a replay. It was a tall order.

My first game: 650 points. The second: 950.
"Time we were off home then." Dad always knew how to motivate me.
Game three: 1275 points.
It wasn't until the following Tuesday that he confessed that the pub had a High Score Promotion going on; my prowess had won him £5 and a packet of Players cigarettes.
We became partners in crime. The weekly (most weeks) 50p became my first regular income.

After a couple of months had passed, I renegotiated my share of the box office. At which point dad reckoned I was ready for the next stage in my Alternative Education, as he used to call it.
This was a double-whammy:
Alternate Saturdays on the terraces at Fratton Park, so that I could learn virtues such as patience, optimism, instant wit and repartee, and resilience in the face of failure.
Punctuated with regular visits to Plumpton, Goodwood, Brighton, Lingfield and my favourite Fontwell Park, where a horse called Scalded Cat and a trainer called Ben Wise romped home at outrageous odds, ensuring I was hooked once and for all.
By the time I was reading The Sporting Life instead of Jane Eyre, Twelfth Night and Just William I was ready for my next BIG lesson.
"I want to bet on that one over there," I pointed to my choice in the parade ring at Fontwell, prior to the last race of the day.
"Bad idea. It's sweating up," dad told me.

But I insisted, emptied my pockets, and exchanged all my money for a Tote ticket."
Long story short: The horse trailed in last (although at least the jockey managed not to leap from the saddle halfway round the course), and whereas usually my dad would compensate me on a losing bet he was a softie that way this time, no refund was forthcoming.I sulked all the way to Chichester. This was No Fun. Finally, my dad broke the silence, and delivered one of the most important pieces of advice I have ever been fortunate enough to receive:
"When you go to the races, never take out of the house more money than you can afford to throw into the gutter."
Which translates all these years later to some of my very dearest friends looking at me with horror and saying, "Spread WHAT? You've got to be kidding!"

Then again, they said much the same when I announced I was jacking in my lucrative advertising business to become a novelist.

One novel later not quite starving in a garret and a friend is boasting how much he's making by spread betting cricket scores. My curiosity is piqued; I am sure I can do the same with soccer, which will make a nice change from fixed odds betting, so I Google spread betting'.

Which is how I come to discover Finspreads.

Cards on the table. I know nothing about financial spread betting.

Over the years, I've held various stocks and shares (Hanson Trust, thank you very much; M&G Gold and General Fund, fuggedaboudit), maintained a positive bank balance, switched out of my endowment mortgage before it was Too Late, and own a large stained-glass jar that's stuffed full of loose change for a rainy day. My one regret is that I chose a pension rather than a buy-to-let.

Broadly speaking, I am Good with Money. And I reckon I can spot a good opportunity when it's flirting with me on the computer screen.

Tax-free winnings

Free enrolment in the Finspreads Academy, where they will teach me the ropes

Plus FREE MONEY if I go on the training course I'm planning to go on anyway

I think I'm in love!

And that is how I become a Novice Spread Better.

Will I fall at the first fence? Or am I destined to own a yacht and a small Mediterranean island?

Let the adventure begin!

 

Sally Nicoll is a writer and a Finspreads customer whose career to date has embraced journalism, broadcasting, and advertising copywriting She lives in London and is currently writing her second novel. Feel free to contact her at veryluckymoney@hotmail.com.
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