HECTIC HOURS
OF PUNTING
THE first race went by without a financial involvement, and in the second race, my small bet on Chic was a loser. She was perhaps set too much to do before finishing third and was to win in slightly stronger company next time. I was correct to oppose Lucky Spin, who actually finished last, but made no profit from her defeat.
Race three, the William Hill Mile, featured Sawwaah, Unshakable and my small ante-post bet on Ancient World. As usual, I moved from the lawn to view the race on a TV screen in the main stand. I’ve never had much interest in watching races live. In my view, the sight of owners and trainers watching races with binoculars is a throwback to a bygone age. A far greater understanding of a race can be obtained by carefully watching the televised coverage.
The race did not go as planned, with a steady pace not suiting either of my main fancies. With additional trouble in running, both failed to fire, and in the closing stages I had only Ancient World running for me. He managed to prevail by a length and a quarter, and I felt a little fortunate to have made a profit on the race. He hadn’t appealed to me at the raceday prices and it was only the combination of a strong whisper and an enticing ante-post price that had caused me to step in. On a point of professional pride, I much prefer winners that come from my own judgement.
In the Richmond Stakes at 3.50, Stetchworth Prince ran just a fair race in finishing fourth behind Montgomery’s Arch. My decision to oppose Blue Dakota (sixth) was correct, but I failed to instruct Geoffrey to lay him, despite a price of only 9-4. It was time for a rare piece of post-race self-criticism, a habit I limit to an absolute minimum.
After a race, a punter’s natural tendency is to regard winning bets as ‘good decisions’ and losing bets as ‘bad decisions’. From a financial point of view, this is true by definition, but in terms of assessing the quality of the thinking, this is frequently not the case. My decision to have a bet is based on my subjective judgement as to whether the odds on offer over- or underestimate a horse’s chance of winning. As I am analysing a collection of horses running across a field, this pre-race judgement will frequently not be borne out by the result. This doesn’t mean that the pre-race analysis was poor, it usually just means that the pre-race analysis failed to predict the correct result. A mental reproach at this point creates the danger of affecting future decisions by focusing the mind on avoiding a mythical ‘mistake’.
There are only two occasions where immediate self-criticism after a race is justified. Firstly, when the race reveals that something clear has been missed from the analysis. Backing a horse who normally wears blinkers without spotting that the headgear has been omitted would be an example. Careful analysis should prevent this type of mistake, but they happen occasionally. The only other justification for criticism occurs on the rare occasion when I realise my business totally failed to reflect a very strong opinion that I held before the race. This second reason was the case in point with Blue Dakota. I had viewed a victory for the favourite as most unlikely and should have taken a strong position as a layer. Having lost on the same horse at Ascot, I had been too cautious. Over a full extra furlong, the circumstances were entirely different and I should have capitalised. A risk of, say, £20,000 was appropriate to my opinion, including laying Blue Dakota in the place market, which would also have collected. With Blue Dakota long odds-on for a place, a profit in excess of £10,000 would have resulted.
Such after-race criticism should be rare, occurring only in those circumstances where there is absolutely no doubt that I had drawn a very strong conclusion before the race and failed to act on this. The far more common occurrence – seeing a vague opinion borne out by the result – needs to be ignored. Vague opinions will often turn out to be correct, but are not reasons to trade.
Now it was time to move on. The next decision must be taken without any negative emotion from a bad result. This is perhaps the most difficult skill that a punter has to master. Most serious punters report that their worst decisions are taken in the second half of a trading day that started badly, after frustration got the better of them. Apart from sheer determination, I use a change of subject at this point to assist the mind in moving on calmly. So, despite being in the middle of one of the busiest meetings of the year, I found a quiet spot to make a social call. I spent five minutes just chatting on the phone about something completely unrelated. It’s a simple technique but it tends to work, avoiding the need for the mind to spin round in frustration.
The next race at Goodwood was the 4.25, a 21-runner sprint handicap. I didn’t have any strong view of the likely winner here, but felt there was a strong chance that the race would provide much greater clarity regarding any draw bias. Although the week had started on good ground, a sunny few days had made it necessary to add plenty of water to prevent the ground becoming too firm. In 2004, watering techniques made it likely that this would produce a substantial bias.
Sure enough, the result provided the clue I was looking for. The race showed a substantial bias to those racing close to the stands’ rail, with a position very close to the rail a big advantage. In a 21-runner field, four of the first five home were drawn between 1 and 6. Not only that, those four horses were a fairly motley bunch, including the extremely moderate 66-1 shot Icenaslice. It was possible that the extreme far rail of the track would prove equally fast, as this had not been tested in the 4.25. The races on the round track had suggested that the far rail was quicker than the centre of the course.
That meant I needed to go to war in the 5.35, a 26-runner handicap over six furlongs. I was convinced that the race would be won by a horse racing on one of the extremities, with the stands’ side slightly more likely. The huge bonus was that I had reviewed the race in the morning. Although nothing had made the shortlist, I still had an opinion. Of my three main fancies, two were drawn close to the stands’ rail: High Ridge (4) and Merlin’s Dancer (5). The other, Albashoosh, was drawn closest of all to the far rail (26). In addition, Merlin’s Dancer was a front-runner who would have every chance to steal the favoured stands’ rail. It seemed possible that the prices would contract if the draw bias became clear to others, so I gave Geoffrey my order straight away. The early-price market was still open and would be very strong in the middle of the meeting. I wanted £5,000 each-way Merlin’s Dancer, £4,000 each-way Albashoosh and £3,000 each-way High Ridge.
Meanwhile, I had to take care of business at Thirsk, where Inter Vision was running in the 4.45. I recruited help from some other agents and spread a stake of £5,000, along with a £1,000 saver on outsider Drury Lane. Returns came back almost full at £4,830 and £950. Inter Vision ran the better of the pair, beaten just over a length in fourth, but not good enough. Drury Lane was last. Five minutes later, Geoffrey was back with returns for the 5.35. He’d obtained £4,850 each-way Merlin’s Dancer, £4,000 each-way Albashoosh and £2,800 each-way High Ridge – close enough to the full totals.
As I headed towards the owners’ and trainers’ bar to watch the 5.00 I bumped into David Nicholls, who was fielding an amazing 11 of the 26 runners in the 5.35. I said hello, wished him good luck with his army, and told him that I thought the ground was fastest right on the stands’ rail. I suggested Merlin’s Dancer would be very hard to catch if he grabbed the rail as early as he was allowed to. I made a point of not asking David which he fancied. Trainers are often inundated with people asking their opinion at the races, and I wanted it to be clear that my thinking was genuine, rather than an excuse to extract information. My attitude was also a lot more restrained than when I spoke to David about Pepperdine on the same day five years earlier. He thanked me before rushing off, no doubt to supervise the collection of 11 saddles from the weighing room.
Just before 5.35, I took up a position in front of a TV screen close to the exit. Gareth would be waiting outside and missing the traffic would be a huge benefit. In terms of the betting, I was a little surprised that my fancies had not shortened as much as expected. High Ridge had shortened into 9-1, having been 16-1, but Merlin’s Dancer, backed at prices between 10-1 and 12-1, returned at 10-1. Albashoosh had actually drifted from the price we had taken.
Despite the news from the betting ring, the race itself panned out marvellously. Merlin’s Dancer grabbed the rail as I hoped and made all, followed home by High Ridge. Albashoosh ran well on the far side to finish fourth, so that all three bets were in profit. Business rarely works out so well. An average day had suddenly become a very good one, with a profit of nearly £70,000 on Merlin’s Dancer alone. In the middle of the thunderstorm, there is no time to dwell on how the profit or loss moves from race to race. Unless I have made a clear-cut mistake, such as Blue Dakota, it pays to move on immediately. Even basking in the winners is not wise, as it makes it harder to move on after a loser if the brain is not in the habit of doing so.
On the way out I bumped into David again, strutting in the opposite direction towards the winner’s enclosure. This was becoming a habit. We quickly shook hands, simultaneously saying ‘well done’ before heading in our respective directions. Within a couple of minutes I was in the Mercedes, being driven by Gareth back to the Spread Eagle. During the afternoon, Gareth and Greg had set everything up in the room. Greg dealt with the IT side, principally ensuring that the video database was operational using the latest portable hard disk drives we had bought. These had been updated with all the latest video files from the server at home.
Gareth’s main task had been to organise my printouts, so that I was able to study the cards as quickly as possible on my return. I had one sheet containing the overnight runners for each meeting and then four further sets of printouts, containing a wide variety of ratings for the next day. These were placed on the desk next to my books of video notes. Finally, he had supplied me with a list of my noted horses that were declared to race on Saturday. He dropped me at the hotel at 6pm and headed home with Greg. Gareth would be returning alone at the end of my stay to retrieve the travelling office and return it to London.
During the journey, I had received an update on business for Nottingham. As planned, Geoffrey had placed most of the business during the action at Goodwood. The two largest bets had been placed with contrasting methods. A wide variety of agents had placed the New Wish business for the Easterby camp, and my return came to the curious total of £8,097.80, a fraction over my request. Nordwind, a less ‘warm-looking’ bet, had been placed with much more subtlety on unmarked accounts, with a full return of £20,000. The only remaining bet, on Regina, was to be placed shortly before the 6.20 race.
It was time for some exercise. I’ve always found that a spell in the gym makes me much more able to focus and make accurate decisions over the following 24 hours. There wasn’t time for a full workout but I lifted some weights and did some cardiovascular work, finishing just inside the hour, during which time I received a text to report that Regina had been beaten. Victory had gone to All For Laura, the horse I had aimed to oppose. She had clearly improved dramatically for her first run.
There were a couple of hours before dinner. Friends were staying in the same hotel and we were due to meet in the bar at 9pm. Goodwood is by far the quietest of the major meetings in terms of nightlife, so we were just having dinner at the hotel. I settled down to work on my long list of noted runners for the following day. The aim was to eliminate at least half of them, as I had done the previous evening. Twenty-five of Saturday’s runners had been noted on my list and I set to work studying the races. The portable hard drives worked a treat; I could flick up race videos just as quickly as I did in the office. As I worked, I set my phone alarm for 7.19 and then 7.49, as reminders to phone for commentaries at Nottingham. On past visits to Midhurst I’d wandered round to the local betting shop once or twice, but I had enough work to do. Geoffrey, The Robot and I had long used the adage ‘they don’t run any faster when you watch them’. Anyway, I’d be watching the races in full detail when working through the videos.
Nordwind scraped home to land the biggest single bet of the day in the 7.20. The commentator never sounded confident and the victory was only a head. He would need to step up another two furlongs before winning again. New Wish failed to fire in the 7.50 and proved a disappointment, as did my small bet on Akilana (fourth) at Galway. With all the results in, I interrupted my form study to balance the day’s figures.
Turnover of £91,857.80 produced a profit of £134,360.95. A pleasing day, but again I didn’t allow myself time to reflect on the results.
By 9pm, I had reduced the shortlist from 25 to 11. My early conclusions were that Fong’s Thong was very likely to win the 2.30 at Goodwood on Saturday, but all would depend on the price as he was sure to be popular (he won at 6-4). The main interest would be the six-furlong Stewards’ Cup, where I was extremely confident that the outside flanks would again dominate. The draw biases allowed me to make hay in these situations and I was sure to be involved (Pivotal Point would win from stall 1).
With the day’s work done, I headed down to dinner. As typifies evenings at Goodwood, it was a fairly relaxed affair, and I managed to steer most of the conversation away from racing as I was ready for a break. Towards the end of dinner I received a text message urging me to head into London to go clubbing. The offer was tempting, but I knew there were major battles to fight on Stewards’ Cup day and declined. I’m not known for being in bed too early, but I made it by half past midnight. It was midway through the summer and my batteries would need plenty of recharging if I was to make it through to the autumn…