The changeable world to our joy is unjust,
All treasure’s uncertain,
Then down with your dust!
In frolics dispose your pounds, shillings, and pence,
For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence.
- Thomas Jordan (1612 - 1685), “Let Us Drink and Be Merry”
Gamblers are still merrily passing pennies through wagering windows, while fretting over racing’s unstable future.
While recently released figures show that wagering in North America is down 7.2% over last year, I am still amazed that in this economy (when emergency measures by Congress are needed to extend unemployment benefits for millions of Americans) $906.3 million was wagered on racing in November alone and the yearly total is $10.7 billion with a month to go.
Racing is one of those rare games of chance that doesn’t actually require intimate knowledge. While I can spend hours pouring over the Aqueduct entries, say for example debating whether a rail draw is a detriment to a closer on the Inner Dirt; a newcomer can simply say “look at the pretty white one” and the result for our wagers will be the same: a win or a loss. That’s the beauty of horseracing: anything can happen when the gates break open.
But wagering isn’t just about the newcomers versus the veterans – there is a very happy purgatory. And the proof is in the Yorkshire pudding: Peter Webb, a British technology executive who opened a Betfair account in 2000 with £1,000 and claims that without ever having deposited another dime, now has an coffers of £250,000 with which to play. This is a man who admittedly knows nothing about the Thoroughbred industry – couldn’t tell you the difference between Secretariat and Phar Lap, a claim versus an under tack sale, or define liver chestnut – yet he makes his entire living playing races from around the globe.
While Mr. Webb is by no means alone in his ability to interpret the data that makes up horseracing, it is the vast sums he is able to make at the windows (physical or electronic) that is laudable. Racing does have an advantage over other markets: once a race goes official, the winnings are yours to keep – immediately. There isn’t a waiting period, bank holdings, Securities and Exchange Commission or Financial Services Authority audits to worry about: you made the bet, the horses ran, the money is yours.
This puts racing in a category similar to poker, blackjack, and other Vegas/Macau/Monaco staples. And the basic “anything can happen” approach applies to them as well: I can watch the World Series of Poker on ESPN in my hotel room, then venture downstairs to play a hand of Texas Hold’em and when the River falls, it can make me rich or knock me out just the same as Jonathan Duhamel, Frank Kassela, or Phil Hellmuth.
When I get up from the tables, I can walk into my favorite Race/Sports Book and wager on anything from NCAA Men’s Basketball to NFL and MLB. The difference between playing at the tables and playing at a Book? We all know the former is as skewed to the House as a balloon pop at the county fair; while the latter, like racing, are as much games of chance as they are skill.
But when it comes to comparing the professional football and baseball leagues with Thoroughbred horseracing, there is a glaring mismatch that must be addressed. The easiest example has occurred in baseball: Roger Clemens was crucified – called before Congress, lambasted in the media, threatened with Hall of Fame banishment – all over illegal performing enhancing drugs (and the perjury that came with hiding it). Now, I fully agree that baseball is America’s pastime and I appreciate the need to keep the playingfields of all professional sports level, but racing was here first.
Horseracing is the only sport where wagers taken are directly applied to the monetary rewards of the athletes (in this case: owner, trainer, horse) and host facilities. There is enough uproar over a 3% takeout increase on wagering in California to think that Frank McCourt had not only lost the Dodgers in the divorce, but that Jamie had appointed Zenyatta (in all her newly minted jersey’d glory) as the new general manager.
Read the minutes of any state wagering board – I personally keep California, New York, and Kentucky bookmarked – and you see the efforts being made to curb the problem. But $500 for a methocarbamol positive is not going to stop anyone when they’re allowed to keep the thousands more in purse monies.
Where are the Congressional hearings on this?
Yes, Roger Clemens lied to investigators about the BALCO scandal. But the only money that hinged on his performance was his salary and sponsorship money to the teams he played for. There was no public money involved. That’s not the case with racing: $10.7 billion has been wagered through November and, yes, those figures are down, but that’s still $10.7 billion more than was available for revenue sharing in the MLB.
There are three classes of drug in horseracing and methocarbamol is legal to use and would probably be found in 99% of blood samples nowadays, just as Lasix, L-Arginine, and Bute/Banamine are. I wish there was a way to punish the humans without punishing the horses because the only answer we have had so far (though not in the instances of methocarbamol) is to fine the trainer and disqualify the horse. With such a comparatively small fine, trainers are virtually excused, while there is no redemption for the horse’s race record and the defrauded public.
Every race is an ultimate game of chance for the horse and the wagering dollar. We should be doing everything in our power to protect those interests. When did we forget that all treasure is uncertain?
