by Frank Cotolo <\/p>\n
I wanted to consider myself an expert per James Quinns three simple ingredients. If I were near as smart as the company I kept in those days I may have been able to write an equation for it. But I could not even pass the written test to be a contestant on Wheel Of Fortune. Maybe I needed to construct a Rubiks Cube with only three matching sides; two representing my knowledge and experience and one for my intuition. My DNA refused all attempts. <\/p>\n
Meanwhile my address found its way onto a mailing list targeting the legion of desperate and degenerate sports gamblers; or as the senders called it, The Sucker List. In a few days my personal Post Office box overflowed. <\/p>\n
Youre going to need a bigger box or less friends, said actor\/comedian Ron Carey (High Anxiety, Barney Miller) whose rented box was next to mine. <\/p>\n
These are ads from fellas claiming to have winning formulas at the races. Look, I said, showing him one. <\/p>\n
He read the envelope. Risk-Free Ricky releases his racetrack secrets. Make a thousand a day <\/p>\n
And he only wants sixty-nine bucks. <\/p>\n
Tommy Turfmaster, Big Bucks Profitable Picks, Sid Swifts Super Solutions at The Races and on and on It was nothing new but neither were suckers. Especially beginners. <\/p>\n
When Off Track Betting (OTB) opened in New York in the 70s, there was an ad running in local newspapers promising winners from a phone call. A lady answered and said, Im going to give you a horse to bet. You can play however much you want; all I want are the winnings of a 10-dollar ticket which youll send in the form of a money order to a post office box Ill give you when you call back after winning. I agreed and she said, Corporal King in the fifth at Belmont. <\/p>\n
I told a friend about it and he visited OTB and placed $20 to win on Corporal King at long odds. We listened to the race at an OTB parlor; Corporal King got a single call and lost. We were curious; if it were a smart scheme, why would it give out a loser? <\/p>\n
Because she made money on the winner, my friend said Then he explained the simple brilliance of the fraud. She picks a single race a day. One with a big field. Like Corporate King was in a with 12. She gets a dozen phone calls. She gives each caller a different horse in the same race. One of the callers wins and sends her the winnings of a 10-dollar ticket. <\/p>\n
Oh, my gawd, I said, youre a Sherlock. Shes winning every race on a program if she gets 10 calls. <\/p>\n
The phone scheme had no overhead but the mail order pieces were carefully designed printed pamphlets and follow-up pieces that cost money to mail. But at 60-some-odd bucks a clip the senders knew there were plenty of suckers on their lists willing to take shots at crushing the races for big profits. <\/p>\n
The guardians of gambling gimmicks mailed me ads in L.A. even while I earned a prolific profile as a writer in racing publications like American Turf Monthly and Harness Horse. I wrote back to a few of them more than once with the following offer: <\/p>\n
If you send me a free copy of your formula and it lives up to its expectations, I will pay you ten (10) times the asking price and write a glowing review in publications where I contribute. <\/p>\n
I never received a single response but remained on their mailing lists. <\/p>\n
I guess a lot of desperate gamblers go for that stuff, Ron said. <\/p>\n
I said, I understand the attraction. Doing a little work for big rewards. <\/p>\n
This was my goal, too, but I did not buy into the myths of a secret formula or specific regularizer. Ultimately, I wanted to profit from pari-mutuel betting with as easy a formula as possible; one I would not construct into a so-called super system with strict rules and conditioned betting boundaries; one demanding precise race types to address; one promising a fair return-on-investment profit percentage; one I would not be able to package and sell to support its failure. <\/p>\n
I was given time to ruminate <\/p>\n
My writing career forced me to take a hiatus from pari-mutuel activity. I became involved with a surreptitious plan promising adventure and international intrigue with no connection to pari-mutuel racing. The plan was concocted by a tycoon (lets call him Sir Delaney) who reportedly lived somewhere in Great Britain. The plan included being stationed on a tanker-ship-turned-broadcast station sailing along the borders of international waters on the North Sea. Soon I was on my way to England via France to be a member of Wolfman Jacks clandestine crew of pirate radio broadcasters. <\/p>\n
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Attack of the self-acclaimed guardians of gambling gimmicks - Harness Racing Update<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" by Frank Cotolo I wanted to consider myself an expert per James Quinns three simple ingredients. If I were near as smart as the company I kept in those days I may have been able to write an equation for it. Continue reading