Hymie Goldberg and his friend Moishe are having a drink in the clubhouse between races.
“A weird thing happened to me a few years ago,” says Hymie.
“It was the seventh day of the seventh month, and my little Herschel was seven years old that day.
We lived in apartment number seven, and I got to the track at seven minutes past seven.”
“You musta put a bundle on the seventh horse in the seventh race.” says Moishe.
“I sure did,” says Hymie.
“And it won, of course,” says Moishe.
“No,” sighs Hymie, “It came in seventh!”