To be a gambler or to be a risk taker, that is the question.

The horses have returned to Emerald Downs, and that means I begin my yearly delusion of believing I am a winner. This is the mark of a gambler, the religious belief I will win the big one, while the sin of losing hangs over me like a cloud.

All gamblers lose and all gamblers lie about it.

Each year I have dandy plans for raking in the winning tickets. I know the horses, the trainers and the backside of the track as well as most, which helps feed my delusion.

It is similar to my delusion that real health food is a peanut butter, jelly and cheese sandwich with a cream cheese brownie chaser.

My gambling delusions come packaged with thoughts like “Gambling doesn’t make me fat” and “It is good exercise walking up to the betting window.”

My wacky handicapping system has to do with trifectas and exactas. Trifectas are picking the top three horses in order and exactas are the top two. I won’t go into the details because someone might think I am just a little crazy, which is certainly wrong.

I also feel superior about gambling on horses because it is pari-mutuel betting, which means I am betting against other losers rather than the house. Somehow betting against a bunch of delusional gamblers like myself rather than trying to beat the house in a casino makes me feel snooty, like I am not really gambling.

When I was covering the track all the time my wife, Ginny, told me I could gamble, but I had to at least break even by the end of the season.

I always started out with confidence, throwing down on long shots and wheeling for the big score. I was gambling and sure I would hit.

About August I would freak out and get serious, knowing if I didn’t start scoring soon no amount of whining would save me, and I can do a lot of very authentic whining. This was the time I became a risk taker rather than a gambler.

I always broke even, but like I said earlier, never believe a gambler. Ginny always trusted me, but verified, and counted — darn it.

What makes the gambler a life affirming loser is not the same slurry of genes that makes a risk taker. This became very clear to me when I was talking to a businessman I know.

I asked him about a deal his company was looking at and he pointed out, “I’m a risk taker, not a gambler.”

It is a definition in character and approach often missed and it is easy to mix the metaphors of the two.

Gamblers bet in the face of losing, there is faith in God and the faith that filly will come off the pace and snap off a win rather than run like she’s waiting for carrots, M&Ms and her stall.

Risk takers look at the odds, and know when to walk, wait or wager. Spotting the difference is a skill worth learning.

Politicians and people in business are often risk takers by nature, but, the gamblers among them can jump high and fall fast and hard.

Taking risks is the stuff of political careers, gambling is fun, but much like playing with fire, it can hurt a lot.

Governments and politicians need to be risk takers. There are times we calculate the odds, throw it down and take the risks. This country was founded on people drawing in a deep breath and taking a risk, sometimes at the peril of a political career, financial survival or one’s life.

Gambling is faith with fire and gamblers lose sooner or later if they keep gambling. It is part of the faith; the allure of winning is losing and still believing.

And by the way, there’s a filly running at Santa Anita…..