BRAIN SURGEONS
AND MAD AXEMEN
I AM often asked what type of character is best suited to betting for a living. Strange as it may sound, the ideal choice is a split personality, as the processes of selection and trading have to be approached on an entirely different basis. The nearest description I have found is a combination of a brain surgeon and a mad axeman.
The selection process is carried out by the brain surgeon. He needs an entirely meticulous approach, as he researches every detail possible. He must be mentally consistent at all times. When he’s done his part, the door is kicked open by the mad axeman. A willingness to trade aggressively, the ability not to care when a fortune is at stake on one day, and the force of mind to push on through all bookmaker resistance requires the mentality of a mad axeman. After the day is over, the brain surgeon takes over again, coolly assessing the results and planning the next day’s betting after making adjustments for what has been learned.
The combination of the two sides of the character ensures that bets will be placed that can lose the value of a sports car in one race and the value of a house in a week without destroying the selection process. The ability to bring both sides to gambling in equal measure has brought me huge returns while never putting a large percentage of my capital at risk.
In the gambling world, there have been plenty of people who have mastered one side but not the other. There are brain surgeons who pick with meticulous detail but are not strong enough mentally to bet in high stakes while keeping their selections consistent. Their bets stay within their comfort zone and their winnings are limited accordingly. Other brain surgeons fail because they are not willing to fight their way through the obstacles placed by the bookmakers. They simply accept that bookmakers are hostile to winners, and do not have the necessary mental energy or resolve to constantly seek out new ways to overcome this.
An example of the brain-surgeon mentality was provided in the film Casino. Sam ‘Ace’ Rothstein, played by Robert De Niro, depicts the story of the true-life gambler Frank ‘Lefty’ Rosenthal. In his role as a casino boss, De Niro’s character is seen berating a chef for the inconsistency of his muffins. From now on, the chef must ensure a precisely equal number of blueberries in each muffin. Although Rosenthal was a shady character to say the least, his former life as a professional gambler had produced a ‘brain surgeon’ mind that had an obsessive desire to ensure that every detail was correct. He confirmed the muffin story word for word in a later interview.
Then there are the mad axemen. These are invariably people who can trade positions of any size and are willing to take the market on with continuous aggression. They usually come unstuck fairly quickly, but those who are more talented, luckier or very well-connected will last longer. But most will come unstuck in the end if they lack the disciplined, painstaking approach of a brain surgeon. Naturally, they will perform well enough when results are favourable, but they are at great risk when things go badly, as they will try to blast their way out of trouble without making the necessary adjustments to account for recent mistakes.
Before contemplating betting seriously, punters should assess their own mental strengths and weaknesses. If they lack the mad axeman touch but have the meticulous thoughts of a brain surgeon, then they must accept that they may become successful but not at a high level. If they have the wild instincts of a mad axeman but not the restraining caution of the surgeon, then they should expect to run out of money fairly often during their gambling career. It will be a roller-coaster ride.
One thing that can seriously affect mental processes is, of course, alcohol. During the racing season I’m extremely careful with my intake and even chose to abstain completely during a couple of my busiest summers. Now my workload is a little less frenetic, I’m inclined to allow myself the odd night out here and there. Fitness is another related subject. I rarely found the time to exercise in my first couple of years as a full-time punter, but this turned out to be a mistake. Regular extended days would leave me exhausted and far from effective in the second half of the day. Since I made exercise a priority, I’ve been able to focus throughout long days in the office. Long-term health is also a key consideration. A high percentage of professional gamblers I’ve known have suffered health problems during their career as long-term stress took its toll. Having seen the whole range of health issues, from heart problems to battles within the mind, I’m pleased to have come through some stressful early years in the best physical shape I could manage.
Although I like to think I have mastered both the brain surgeon and mad axeman sides, there are always periods when nothing seems to go right. In such periods it is possible to run up sizeable losses, however the size of my bets, although enormous by most standards, is always conservative relative to my capital. From the end of 1999, I’ve always been able to be almost certain that a losing run would not make deep inroads into my capital.
Of course, there are others who prefer a much more adventurous approach and will risk a far greater percentage of their capital in a short period. This will produce great rewards when results go well, but also create periods when capital is seriously depleted after a losing run. Had I adopted a riskier staking strategy over the years, I could have made total profits of at least double the actual figure by betting in huge sums on those occasions when the market is very strong, but one or two really bad years might have left me much worse off. Doubling my wealth would not have made me any happier, so I’ve chosen certainty over maximised profits.
Despite my careful approach, a long losing run is still immensely frustrating. The first months of 2005 provided my largest ever run of losses. A hugely successful 2004 had ended on a high, with profits of more than £200,000 in the final weeks after the Flat season ended in early November. I had been receiving some excellent guidance over jumps and following some consistently profitable business. During the winter, I don’t balance my figures weekly, but I made a profit of £52,158.50 in the period November 28-December 12 and one of £92,992.24 from December 13-28.
Almost as soon as the new year turned, the wind blew in the opposite direction. The jumps business I received went through a terrible run and by the end of the Cheltenham Festival I had not had a winning period, running up the following losses.
| 29 December – 10 January: | -£26,569.00 |
| 11–24 January: | -£19,567.67 |
| 25 January – 6 February: | -£50,587.50 |
| 7–28 February: | -£11,774.40 |
| 1–19 March: | -£90,037.37 |
I’d incurred total losses of £198,535.94 in the first two and a half months of the year, nearly all my profit from the final two months of the previous year. The final period was by far the most painful, as I’d handled a succession of losing ante-post bets for Cheltenham. As the Flat season approached, I was extremely keen to redress the balance. In a sense, it helped that the losses had come from following other business. My own selections are the main driver of profit each year and I take it far more personally if they fail over a lengthy period. Of course, all-weather racing had continued throughout the winter, but focusing on turf racing meant that the following weeks would allow my own business to take centre stage.
The turf season made a very slow start, with the Lincoln Handicap not taking place until April 2. During this first period I made some early profits and was starting to feel more comfortable. There were no major fireworks but I backed a steady stream of smaller winners.
| 19 March – 3 April: | +£43,784.64 |
The next fortnight produced a steady run of losing bets. I normally balance up every week once the season starts, but was so frustrated after the first week that I chose to run a two-week account in the hope of avoiding writing up another loss. I traded fairly small in the very early weeks of the season, waiting for the form lines to gradually become clear. This proved the only wise decision I made. My early predictions were remarkably unsuccessful and the business I handled for others was similarly unprofitable, and I lost a six-figure sum over the two-week period, a sorry saga made all the more remarkable as only one single loss ran into five figures. Even that only cost me £11,000, when I’d done quite a lot of business on the John Porter Stakes at Newbury despite the race being outside my normal 5f-1m distance range. I’d been keen to oppose the winner, Day Flight, and had paid the penalty.
| 4–17 April: | -£109,128.05 |
At this point, it was time to take a tough decision. I was finding the workload too intense. Having made huge profits in 2003 and 2004, I didn’t feel the need to work quite so many hours during the summer. I was still working very hard but took a little more time off and, as a result, the amount of business I was still handling for third parties was eating into my form study. My own analysis had led to the vast majority of the profits in the previous two years, so it was time to restrict business. I still maintained the most profitable sources, but had to request that others find other outlets for their business. This would lead to a considerable reduction in the number of bets each week, freeing up vital study time. The new strategy didn’t bring immediate dividends, although at least there seemed to be a temporary respite from the losses, with a much smaller deficit the following week. There were no major results in either direction.
| 18–24 April: | -£2,917.78 |
The next week was a terrible week. Increased amounts of study time failed to produce anything like the required returns, and my biggest loser was Lava Flow, who cost me £16,725. I’d fancied him strongly to win at Hamilton after he made a pleasing debut at Windsor, but he ran deplorably, presumably sustaining some sort of injury as he died without running again. Almost all my other selections failed to fire, with most not even running close. The reduced level of third-party business was also unprofitable and it all added up to a second six-figure losing period.
| 25 April – 1 May: | -£113,130.85 |
The next week was a little better, if it is possible to categorise losing more than £30,000 as ‘better’. Desperate times call for desperate measures. As mentioned in an earlier chapter, a huge punt on Strike Up The Band went astray in the Lily Agnes Stakes at Chester. After a hugely impressive performance at Pontefract, I was happy to unload on him despite a short price, risking £39,700 only to see him go down by a short head.
Elsewhere, there was some reason for comfort. Although I still hadn’t landed a serious punt, a number of each-way selections hit the frame at decent prices, and in terms of how my fancies were actually running, I wasn’t far away from making a profit. Still, I now found myself balancing my ninth losing period from ten that year, an unprecedented run of failure. I was now down by £412,006.84. Although this was only a tiny slice of my long-term profit, it was still a huge sum to lose in just over four months.
Dealing with a period of this gravity tests the mettle of the bravest gambler. When it happens to me, I try to stay focused and calm, because I know beyond doubt that a badly-needed return to form can only be achieved by a combination of steely determination and hard work. The negative effect on my state of mind starts to kick in when my losses over a short period approach £200,000. If I am down by £100,000 or even £150,000, I will accept that I have just had a few bad days. When you bet in the sort of sums that I do on a regular basis, you become used to losing £100,000 or so in a short period.
I become ever more determined, but for a period of time I will be a lot less happy in my work. I call this period ‘serious mode’. Sometimes it feels as though I am trying to force myself up the steps of a long down escalator. I feel I am making the right moves but can’t seem to make any headway. It’s a serious business but, however bad things appear, it doesn’t pay to change my approach. Past experience tells me that if I stick to my overall strategy I will end up on the right side of the business. Full release from serious mode doesn’t come when the losses are reduced. I need all of them back and to be well into profit before I return to top form. I’ve probably hit serious mode on about five or six occasions since 1999 but the 2005 run was certainly a record.
The following week, results finally started to run in my favour. Although most of my profits come from longer-priced selections, it was a favourite that started the recovery process this time. Fort Dignity looked close to a certainty in a Listed race at Windsor on the Monday. I took 15-8, 7-4 and 13-8 in the morning betting and won £37,020 from a stake of £20,000 when he eased home by a neck. Three days later, a serious punt on Quito, who’d been found a surprisingly weak race at the York Dante meeting, netted me £66,500. The same day I won £40,712 when Ajigolo landed a Salisbury maiden, and suddenly I was back in full flow. A number of smaller winners helped me profit by £185,582.25 on the week, making a huge dent on the yearly losses. It was to be the start of a tremendous summer run.
I’ve already explained that a thunderstorm is a period in which I increase turnover dramatically if I am seeing the form clearly and making good profits. The mad axeman side of the personality becomes enhanced during these periods. At a time when my analysis is proving extremely successful, it is vital to be at my most aggressive with my trading. This will continue as long as my form holds up, which can produce a huge profit very quickly. In many years, the majority of my earnings comes from one period of just a few weeks. 2003, 2004 and 2005 produced the most striking returns, with more than a million pounds’ profit from each thunderstorm. The 2005 storm was actually the smallest of the three, but after the nightmare start to the year, it was certainly the one I appreciated the most. The figures for my three most profitable thunderstorms are as follows:
2003
w/e 20 July to w/e 14 September – profit of £1,318,012.50 in 9 weeks
w/e 20 June to w/e 12 September – profit of £1,630,408.34 in 13 weeks
2005
w/e 15 May to w/e 17 July – profit of £1,212,309.39 in 10 weeks