Barry the Bizmark is Alive and Well

Welcome to ITV4’s Opening Show, where Britain’s most confident tipsters serve up racing predictions with all the accuracy of a blindfolded dart thrower in a wind tunnel. For the last 12 weeks it been the Bizmark show, A Towering Inferno about horseracing. With a flawless record of 36 consecutive losing tips, this isn’t just a show—it’s a full-blown disaster in action, a weekly gift to bookmakers and a guaranteed way to drain your wallet faster than a rampant stag night in Vegas.

Our fearless line-up includes the eternally chipper Oli Bell, the talent-missing Megan Nicholls, the vocal volcano Matt Chapman, and Mick Fitzgerald, whose “favourite” picks seem cursed by the racing gods themselves. Watching this gang in action, you’d be forgiven for thinking they’re part of a bookie conspiracy. Their tips have all the reliability of a pub jukebox at last orders, and the only thing keeping viewers tuning in is morbid curiosity to see just how wrong they’ll be this time.

One can’t help but long for the days of John Rickman and his famous ladybird, who’d simply land on a horse name in his racecard to pick the winner. That ladybird has a better record than these “experts”.

A 36-Loser Streak So Perfect It’s a Work of Art

To lose occasionally is one thing, but 36 losses in a row? That takes talent—or an utter lack thereof. It’s as if the ITV4 crew has reverse-Midas touch: every horse they tip immediately turns into dead weight. Any other programme with such a rotten record would publish stats to prove they’re due for a comeback, but ITV4 conveniently sidesteps accountability. Each week, they serve up a new slate of “dead certs” without so much as a passing mention of their woeful track record. It’s a bit like a dodgy chef insisting you try his latest dish without revealing his last 36 diners left with food poisoning.

And Paddy Power? Oh, they must be loving every minute of it. Every time ITV4’s gang of Bizmark whisperers touts a “sure thing,” the bookies crack open the bubbly. Rumour has it that Paddy Power’s head office has a framed photo of Oli, Megan, Matt, and Mick up on their Wall of Heroes, right next to the December profits graph.

Oli Bell: The King of Wishful Thinking

Oli Bell fronts this tragicomedy with the sincerity of a man who has somehow missed the memo on ITV’s own losing streak. He flashes his boyish smile, nodding like he’s about to unveil racing’s next big thing, only for his chosen horse to finish dead last, limping across the line as though it’s got lead weights in its hooves. It’s gotten to the point where regular viewers have a standing bet on how catastrophically Oli’s picks will flop, not if.

Watching Oli try to talk up his tips is like watching someone try to sell rain at Glastonbury. It’s endearing, in a sad way, to see him convinced that, “No, this time I’ve got it!” But the reality is that Oli has the luck of a man betting on which way a leaf will fall in a hurricane.

Megan Nicholls: Racing Royalty, Yet as Lucky as a Soggy Chip

Then there’s Megan Nicholls, the daughter of Paul Nicholls, a man who’s won just about every race worth winning. And yet, somehow, Megan’s tips are so consistently wrong they’re practically a public service announcement in reverse. Her picks have a way of crawling across the finish line like they’re on a charity walk, all while Megan’s assuring us they’ve got “fantastic form” and “perfect conditions.” Why not just ask dad?

If Megan tips a favourite, savvy punters know to back the longest shot possible because whatever she touches is doomed. This is the woman who could jinx a one-horse race. Somewhere, Rickman’s ladybird is rolling its tiny eyes and quietly declaring, “Amateurs.” Frankly, if Megan had tipped Secretariat, that horse would still be waiting for the starting gun.

Matt Chapman: The Bullhorn of Bad Bets

Matt Chapman, ITV’s megaphone man, tips with the enthusiasm of a rock concert promoter, each “dead cert” proclaimed as though he’s about to reveal the second coming. Matt’s picks have a sort of tragic inevitability about them—you almost want to pat him on the back and say, “Better luck next time, mate,” before his horses have even left the stalls.

Chapman’s booming voice would make you think his picks were carved on a stone tablet by Zeus himself, yet his selections perform with all the verve of a pensioner at a disco. They may as well send him to the races with a pair of earmuffs and a gag order, because every time he calls something a “sure thing,” Paddy Power’s cash register dings like Christmas morning.

Mick Fitzgerald: Turning Favourites into Bizmarks

Then there’s Mick Fitzgerald, whose taste for picking short-priced favourites would be admirable if it weren’t so painfully cursed. Favourites are supposed to be the “safe” choice, the pick for cautious souls, yet when Mick tips them, they’re practically guaranteed to go down faster than a sack of spuds. Mick’s horses don’t just lose; they redefine failure, tripping up in ways that make viewers wonder if they’re being led by moles.

At this point, Mick’s record is so rotten that punters are half-expecting him to start tipping snails. If Mick tells you a horse is going to win, you’re better off putting your money on the next one out of the gate. Even John Rickman’s ladybird is throwing up its antennae in horror.

The Guest Commentators: Fresh Faces, Same Fate

Occasionally, ITV4 throws a guest tipster into the mix to “add variety,” as if more voices might reverse the show’s cursed track record. But no—every guest falls in line with the Opening Show’s unique brand of Bizmark predictions. It’s as if the very act of stepping onto ITV’s set casts a spell of doom on their tips. They walk in full of hope and walk out with their bets trailing so far back they might as well be running next week’s race.

They could drag in Rickman’s ladybird at this point, and it would probably end up hitching a ride back to the wild just to save its reputation.

The Record That Doesn’t Exist—Except in Punters’ Empty Wallets

The pièce de résistance of ITV4’s Opening Show is the fact that they don’t bother to publish their track record, as if 36 straight losses is something we might all just forget, a la Tony Calvin. They go through the motions of calling out their picks each week with cheerful optimism, without so much as a nod to the absolute wasteland they’ve left in their wake. Meanwhile, each episode is sprinkled with “bet responsibly” reminders—because apparently, responsible gambling involves flushing your cash down ITV’s Bizmark betting chute.

Watching ITV4 each week is like watching a football match where the team scores own goal after own goal, but keeps insisting, “We’re due for a win.” Somewhere, Paddy Power’s CEO is chuckling into his Champagne and mailing the Opening Show team a fruit basket to thank them for their contributions to his quarterly bonus.

Paddy Power’s Favourite Show and McCririck’s Nightmare

It’s safe to say that Paddy Power couldn’t be happier with the Opening Show’s record. This cast of well-meaning but hopeless tipsters is the bookie’s dream team—promoting wagers that are almost guaranteed to fail. They might as well rename it Paddy Power Presents: The ITV4 Bizmark Hour. John McCrirrick, bless him, would have gone into hiding if he’d seen this fiasco unfold. The man who spent decades calling out dodgy bookies on the Morning Line (much better programme) would be speechless in the face of this unrivaled streak of financial carnage.

The Final Tip: Tune in for Comedy, Not for Betting Advice

At this point, ITV4’s Opening Show is Britain’s finest racing comedy—an absurdist satire of tipping that even Beckett couldn’t have dreamed up. Each week, Oli, Megan, Matt, and Mick deliver tips with the flair of clueless alchemists, transforming potential winners into concrete Bizmarks with a single nod.

So if you’re watching, treat it as a Brian Rix farce. Laugh along with Oli’s cheerful cluelessness, marvel at Megan’s family legacy gone spectacularly awry, and shake your head at Chapman’s ear-splitting “certainties.” But do yourself a favour and keep your wallet tightly shut, because the only true winners here are the bookies, who, thanks to ITV4, are laughing all the way to the bank.

And if Paddy's PR department are reading this, it has to be worth a comedy video.