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My first year on the 'job'
By Doug Parry This article originally appeared on the now-defunct IWN Online site in spring 1998. Have you ever seen those horse racing handicaps in the newspaper and figured you could do better than that guy? This year I got my chance to put my money where my mouth is. Two thousand dollars, to be exact. But it was all play money. All of the excitement of playing the races with none of the risk. I talked the sports editor at my newspaper, The Herald in Everett, Wash., into letting me do the handicap. I'd played the races for years, and the first year at Emerald Downs, my local racetrack, had been profitable for me. Now the track was gearing up for its second season and I was ready. I'd studied all of the latest handicapping literature and done my homework on the locals. I'd heard there was grumbling in the press box about the new guy on the block. How he probably didn't know what he was doing. My goal was to pick more winners and get a better return than the other guys. I always did when I was handicapping for myself the year before. As for my bankroll, I went in with low expectations. I didn't think I'd win any money in print. None of the other guys ever did. The gates opened for the first race of the year, and the losing started. I lost at an amazing rate all through April and into May. If you'd handed a program to a chimp, he'd have gotten you a better return on your betting dollar than I did. After a month and a half I was $500 in the hole. I was grateful no real money was involved. My boss taunted me. "You know that what you lose in the paper comes out of your paycheck, don't you?" he asked. I didn't ask what would happen if I came out ahead. It seemed too farfetched. I never really got close to losing it all, but I was worried about what would happen if I bottomed out. I didn't want to have to take out a pretend loan to go with my pretend bankroll. I started to get conservative. I made smaller bets and waited for the big kill. My brother asked me if I would start betting big at the end of the meet. I promised I would. Handicapping 48 hours ahead of time has its pitfalls. Once you've sent in a column there's no going back. In real life, you can think on your feet when there's a late scratch or a sudden change in the weather. You can wait and get a gauge on the odds before you put your money down. A newspaper handicapper has to take a stand and live with it. That's what I told myself as the losing continued. By June, I had turned it around in some respects. I had picked enough winners to catch up with the pack. But you can tout your winning percentage all you want. You know the only thing the readers are looking at is whether you can make money. It was halfway through the meet, and I was right on schedule. About half of my bankroll was gone. I changed my strategy. No more crazy exacta and trifecta boxes. I'd mainly play to win and take my shots in pick-3s. Then something strange happened. I started winning. A lot. A $299 pick-3 in July keyed by a filly named Tapping Toes trying blinkers for the first time. A $25 bet on a 2-year-old named My Red Cadillac who came it at 6-1. A day in August when I rolled all of my top picks in pick-3s and came out $200 ahead. The winning days started to outnumber the losing days. For the last month of the summer meet, I closed in on the magic $2,000 mark. Then, five days from the end, my favorite horse, Simply Faster, fought back in the stretch and put me $200 in the black. My brother called to make sure I was still going to bet it all in the last week. If I won I could really put those other handicappers to shame, he said. I was up $143 with three racing days to go, and a co-worker asked me if I was going to spend big or play it safe. He tried to tell me some story about Ted Williams. How when he had a .400 batting average on the last day of the baseball season he didn't sit it out like some wimp. He went up there swinging, even added a few points to his average. I played it safe. Bet all but $2,001 and finished with $2.033.50. I don't care what Ted Williams would think. Even when it's just Monopoly money, when the racing gods have given you a chance to go home ahead, you take the money and run. |