From the archives. ‘Tales From The Betting Ring’ #1 Christmas 2004

With racing off again and the prospect of new tales looking thin on the ground I thought I’d share one of a few year’s worth of old ‘Tales’ I rescued from an old hard-drive. Here’s one from 9 years ago. First published in Racing Ahead magazine.

Tales From The Betting Ring
Christmas 2004
Simon Nott

Most people turned up at Wincanton oblivious to the fact that there had been an earlier inspection. Stuffed full of mince pies and turkey the amassed ranks of bookmakers who occupied the often half-empty pitches were licking their lips at the prospect of relieving some of the 12,000 strong crowd of some of their Christmas money. The Boxing Day meeting is traditionally one where the books fill the hod, bet to figures and let the results look after themselves. That prospect was tarnished slightly when rumour spread around the ring of a recent pitch sale to a bookmaker who it has to be said is his colleague’s worst nightmare and a punters dream. The sight of various books upping tools to get away from the new purchaser of a prime pitch was one to behold.

Once the excitement of pitching-in had subsided most firms got straight to work trying to fill those hods and get the Christmas expenses. They were in for a shock. Lamps Return was plunged on, bundles of cash from shrewds were being thrust into the hands of bookmakers just keen to lay the once a year £5 punters. They were taken by surprise and the price plummeted from 7/2 all rates down to 2/1f. That sort of move is not really the sort of thing the books looking to bet tidy were looking for, neither was the each way tickle on Cream Cracker who was backed from 25 into 16/1. It would not normally be too easy to get much on each way in a Novice Hurdle but the books were keen to accommodate the punters who only ever bet on the Grand National and ask for each way out of habit, so the generally redundant each way signs had been dusted off and were up. Lamps Return won pulling up and Cream Cracker finished second. The groan from the ring was audible but there were some smug smiles from those layers who had managed to stick to the plan and bet ‘overs’ if possible.

Tribal King was a similar story, 11/4 into 9/4f and won pulling up too. The bookmakers who had arrived confident of hitching a ride on the gravy train were looking somewhat jaded as they paid out long lines of winning punters. To make things worse many who were each way on second placed Luneray 12 into 11/1 and 10/1 shot 3rd Beau Supreme.

With two defectors the Handicap Hurdle was reduced to 16 runners, holiday crowd or not the each way signs were slung into the darkest depths of the kit bags. Martin Pipe’s Honan was backed from 5/1 into 4/1, then 50/1 shot Le Gris was withdrawn, the speed and agility displayed by bookmakers and their staff in retrieving the ‘each way taken’ signs was admirable, then it went their way. Winner, Mystery was short but hard to lay, 11/2 from 4/1, On A Deal was an unsupported 50/1 while third place Coustou was hardly order of the day at 16/1, 4th and out of the money due to the non runner was none other than Honan. It wasn’t all rosy for the books though, an SP percentage of 117% in a 15-runner handicap proved that some of the bookmakers at the business end of the ring haven’t grasped the idea that when there is a massive crowd there is no need to tear up the market. Which of course is great news for punters who come racing but not so good for the back row bookie trying to scrape a living.

Bambi De L’Orme was a drifter from 11/8 to 13/8f and was beaten when fell at the last, the eventual winner Master Rex was backed from 7/1 into 5/1 and once again proved costly for the books. Unusually there were no Exchange Arbing firms in evidence in the ring so some sharp bookmakers were able to take advantage of price anomalies to hedge themselves. Which was just as well, because had their not been such a crowd and good business the results would have resulted in financial bookie meltdown. Dangerously Good won the next having been backed from 7/2 into 5/2f.

In what could have been the final twist in the knife the off-course firms came battering into the ring for Bunratty Castle smashing the price from 9/4 into 7/4f, the last thing the books needed, but only if it won. Those who kept their nerve, and that being a big ask as one of the firms only bet real live stuff, kept the money. 10/1 Walter’s Destiny manifested himself as the bookie saving cavalry by trotting up from 25/1 shot Dear Deal.

Sometime floor man and self styled tweed clad gent of the turf, ‘Sunbed’ Dave told all who would listen that Be Be King was different class in the NH Flat, though despite the touting from the unseasonably shaded one, the gelding was allowed to drift from 2/1 to 11/4jf but won in a hack canter and could now well be on target for Cheltenham.

Kempton held and inspection at 8am, half an hour before I had to set off from Devon, a phone call to the course was thought prudent, after being informed that the course was almost raceable and that the inspection planned for 10am was purely precautionary we set off through a glassy landscape. By the time we arrived at Kempton Park there had been two further inspections with another planned at midday. A veteran bookmaker/farmer wandered down to the track and returned asking if anyone would lay him an even pony racing would be abandoned. His shrewdness is well known so despite the sun beating down there we no takers. Not long after his kind offer was swerved racing was abandoned. Funny that, but was at least something to chuckle about on the long drive home.

As a cool down interlude. If you are enjoying this blog, any chance you could take time out to vote for it in the UK  Blog Awards here? http://www.blogawardsuk.co.uk/blog-entries/tales-from-the-betting-ring/

Chepstow was rammed, anyone who hadn’t left plenty of time to get to the course early probably missed the first race. If they were the sort of people who like to get stuck into short priced favourites they would have saved themselves a nice few quid. Blushing Bull was heavily backed from 4/7 into 1/2 and looked certain to collect, only to be collared by a short head on the line by Miss Fahrenheit. The winner had been backed from 9/1 into 8/1 mainly by public money latching onto an each way chance, so depending on the bookmakers strategy on what would be another ‘fill the hod and bet to figures’ sort of afternoon would not have been an amazing result but would have been a winner for almost all books. Almost Broke in the second on the other hand would not, backed from 7/2 into 11/4 including money from the exchange boys the gamble was landed by three lengths and wiped out most of the gains made in the first.

There were bundles for Cerium in the next 11/8 into 5/4 but he dropped away tamely behind Phar Bleu. The winner was ridden by AP McCoy and backed from 10/1 into 9/1 and was once again popular with the smaller each way backers so took the shine from the books boxing clever, though with 50/1 and 33/1 shots filling the places it was another pretty good result. The Welsh National was a disaster, Sunbed Dave had once again touted a winner, Silver Birch was all the rage shortening from 9/2 into 10/3f with the massive crowd more than keen to get involved though it’s not certain Dave had managed to whisper in all their collective ears. The rest is history, Silver Birch won and the places were filled by 8/1, 5/1 and 15/2 shots, a result that can only be described as nasty for any bookmaker, especially those betting each way, and in the big race most were.

Tanterari was the stick-on in the next 9/4 into 7/4f but at the home turn Victory Gunner an unconsidered 20/1 shot was clear. Two out it looked as if he was certain to win and must have been a fantastic result for bookmaker Dick Oliver who shouted 2/1 in running. You had to be quicker than a floor man who’s spotted a fiver on the floor to get on but a couple did, 25 lengths clear at the line the beaming bookie was keen to pay out the lightning-footed value-seekers. The extra beam in reply to the question had he had a good race told the story. It didn’t last long. The next winner Le Passing had enough money wagered on him to re-float the economy of a small African nation and as a result of being 13/8 from 2/1 separated the bookmakers from the winnings from the previous race, though it has to be said not all. Many had been waiting for the one result and had put the winnings firmly into a secret place and bet tight.

In the National Hunt Flat only The Mick Weston 3/1 into 5/2 and Victom’s Chance 10/3 into 9/4f were backed to any sort of money, they finished in that order. Pirate Flagship drifted from 7/4 to 3/1 and could only finish a distant fourth at the line. Another day of terrible results for the bookmakers was saved by pure weight of money and the ability to book make, a blessing counted by many as they scurried though various short cuts to escape the traffic on the way of course.

It was soon apparent that generally good figures enjoyed by the books at the previous two meetings would not save them at Newbury, though there was a good-sized crowd there were plenty of bookmakers. The strong front row and rail meant it would be tough going anywhere apart from there and so it proved. 2/1 Joint Favourites Kauto Star and Foreman were both backed in their turn and that’s how the race panned out, a match between the two turned into a one horse race as Kauto easily accounted for his rival. Anyone who went up the front two hoping for a result did their money in cold blood. In the next Lady Zephyr was backed to huge amounts from 11/4 into 2/1f. She looked to have it all to do but sloshed in. The winner looked to have dropped something after the last, rumour had it, mainly out of bookmaker wishful thinking, that it was the weight cloth were soon dispelled by the weighed in signal.

There had been an off-course pricewise inspired gamble going on Bee An Bee all morning, the on-course books took no chance with the horse and put up an early show of 4/1. That was snapped up by the sharp suited reps of one of the off-shore based rails firms. The plunge continued touching 3/1 in places helped along by at least one of the High Street firms, but then Lou Du Moulin Mas came in for heavy support, 6/1 into 4/1 a result of which the early plunge horse was allowed to drift back to 10/3. That gamble on Bee An Bee never looked like coming off, but on the run up to the line it seemed as if Lou Du Moulin Mas was going to ruin the bookmakers day but 16/1 shot Juveigneur came to their rescue and was about to provide a result when morning favourite with some firms Ulusaba swooped from nowhere to deprive the French raider and bookmakers alike. Although the winner had drifted to 9/1 he was nowhere near a good a result as the second.

Moonstream was backed from 2/1 into 13/8 in the next, along with little bits of shrewd cash for Lion Hunter 9/1 into 15/2 and people being very clever lumping on Marki each way where possible at 6/1 into 7/2. Rubberdubber drifted from 3/1 out to 4/1 but at the line was only a neck from depriving the bookmakers of a 66/1 Christmas bonus in the shape of Pretty Star who just failed to get up. That was the last sniff of a holiday result the layers had. By the time they had lugged their stuff back to the cars, Brewster 5/1 into 3/1, Earth Man 5/1 into 9/2 and the aptly named Grumpy Stumpy 9/1 into 7/1 had just about ruined their Christmas, but not quite badly enough to think about flogging the BMW, yet.

(c) Simon Nott

My book Skint Mob, full of stories based on bookies, punters and characters that inhabit the betting rings of the UK has been getting some great feedback on Twitter. As a way of blowing my own trumpet and hopefully generating some interest in this self-published title I thought I’d share some with you.  http://wp.me/p1dLbd-br    The book can be ordered direct from me by sending a cheque toSimon Nott, 16 Fairby Close, Tiverton, Devon EX16 6AB, BACS email me for details simonnott@yahoo.co.uk via Paypal at the same email address or  on eBay http://r.ebay.com/4fS1wF

Tales From The Betting Ring – Newbury 17/05/13

Decent weather and what appeared to be a larger than average Friday crowd was the reward for the bookies that turned out for the Scope and SIA Charity Raceday. Getting to the racecourse was harder from some than others. Full marks to Paul Metcalfe, the fourth generation bookmaker that bets under the name of Jack Bevan (a name that has been seen on racecourse betting rings since 1897). He broke his ankle just a few weeks ago but is already back and betting albeit with the aid of a wheelchair. Of course his fellow layers were full of admiration for his gallant refusal to shy out of work. They showed this admiration by christening him ‘Angel’ after the name of the firm that provided his conveyance proudly displayed on the back of his chair. Sick of that moniker he seemed quite relieved when offered the alternative of ‘Ironside’, though only those over a certain age got that one.

The result of the first race wouldn’t have eased his various discomforts. The favourite, Championship, managed to win despite drifting from 15/8 to 5/2. Worst still one layer was reported to have run into a top-priced £5500-£2000. Even worse than that, the main gamble of the race, Man Amongst Men supported from 33/1 into 14/1, was second, only thwarted in the shadow of the post. The second race result was even worse still. Winsili was backed from 5/2 into 2/1 favourite and fair hosed in. The 14/1 winner of the 5/1 the field handicap third race at least stopped the jolly-winning rot.

Armaloft Alex went down to the paddock prior to the fourth. He came back with a spring in his step and quite bullishly announced that the odds-on favourite Oriel didn’t look too special and he certainly wouldn’t be backing her. It was a surprise then to see that at least one firm appeared to be supporting the filly. I rubbed my hands in anticipation of a paragraph belittling my mate’s lack of prowess as a paddock judge when the jolly won by half the track. I should have had more faith, Armaloft was right, Oriel was a big disappointment, at least for her backers, only managing third. One rails bookie appeared to have made a stand against her financially and was soon packing up to go home.

Ninjago was well-backed in the next including a couple of two grand and grand bets. He was another that could only manage third place. That was another rails firm upping sticks and heading home. They were not alone. right down at the other end of the ring another layer was off, they had been offered a £1000 bet all down there, decided to take and stand it and copped the lot. They too were thanking their lucky stars and making a break for it. The winner Zanetto looked to have landed a bit of a touch from around 5/1 into 10/3 but nothing lumpy was reported on course. Prairie Ranger appeared to  landed another nibble, 9/2 into 3/1 in the next but in doing so beat the favourite so not all bad for the bookies.

As is often the case you could see the thinner crowd and feel the apathy by the seventh race. It didn’t help that it was a hard-looking handicap. You could almost hear the bookies snapping  metaphorical  elastic bands around their winnings too. Nobody was going to stick their neck out in a couple of races where field money was going to probably be minimal. Just as well as a second favourite and a favourite obliged for those jolly-backers who had any money left to play with.

Bookies West End Racing from Southampton stuck it out until the end and couldn’t report having done any good on the last two. They did have some good news though. Lewis Brown who stands for his long-standing family firm told me that he is taking part in a run around Fontwell Park to raise money in memory of his Uncle Matt who recently passed away suddenly aged just 45. Anyone who would like to sponsor Lewis can read more about his effort by following this link justgiving.com/westendracing 

It’s back to Newbury tomorrow for their nine-race card. Proper job.

The show must go on for Jack Bevan and Co.

(c) Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Wincanton 09/05/13

It was all a bit confusing arriving at windswept and rainy Wincanton for their penultimate meeting of the season. It had definitely been May at Exeter on Tuesday but it did seem Wincanton had rewound to one of the nastier days of February. The bookies were up against it from the start setting up their gear. Most decided against taking on the wind and preferred to risk their computers getting wet rather than getting airborne. That wasn’t a bad decision when you consider the bin-liners handed out by the racecourse for rubbish were blown up like demonic air-bags all along the rails. The clash with Newton Abbot and Goodwood wouldn’t have helped the numbers of bookies in attendance in any case but they were thinner on the ground than expected. No doubt some deciding to sit at home and relight the fire. Those that did brave the elements got their reward in the opener with a 20/1 winner, but most reported business being terrible, so although a skinner for many the result was hardly a bonanza.

News on the rails from Festival Racing, Andy Smith’s daughter Jessica  reported that the weather conditions for his charity bike ride were worse than THAT Paddy Power Sunday at Cheltenham a few years back. He was cold and wet but determined and looking forward to the rest and relative comfort of the ferry crossing. For those that don’t know about his ride please check my last blog here. http://wp.me/p1dLbd-4E 

The second race of the day featured a very short-priced favourite that opened at 1/6. Captain Kelly looked a certainty, certainly to one intrepid punter who braved the wind and rain to invest £300 at odds of 2/11. He never had a moment’s worry but it wasn’t the best bet in the world as the jolly touched 4/11 for a second or two on the rails before sauntering home at 1/4.

A couple of real enthusiasts made their appearance just before the third. One of them, no less than ‘Armaloft’ Alex was talking of a speed-camera busting time from Newton Abbot. That’s just ‘allegedly’ for any policemen that may be reading. It has to be hoped that he didn’t pick up any speeding tickets because he had been hurtling up the A303 in order to see a horse he has a leg in, Addiction, run only to discover it had been a late withdrawal. All was not lost.  Although he managed to keep his arm down he may still have been tempting fate when he shouted ‘Call the police, it looks like I have backed a winner’ to nobody in particular when Hadden Frost scooted in on Bold Perk completing an across the card treble.

Things didn’t improve for the ring when the next two jollies went in and the weather got worse. You also had to feel for the hardy souls that traipsed into the parade ring in their sodden fancy dress to be judged for the prize of a couple of annual members badges. Chris Down’s Nothing Is For Ever won the last, the 7/2 joint favourite, followed home by the other one. Most of the bookies were already dismantling their kit before they looking up to see that they had done their money again.

As the Grease tribute band kicked off down in the bar the course announcer reminded racegoers that next Tuesday is Ladies Day and that he could guarantee better weather. That was a lofty promise. True it would be hard to imagine worse weather in the middle of May, however, unless he has friends in very very high places you have to hope he’s not related to Armaloft tempting fate like that!

(c) Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Exeter 30/04/13

The first of two evening meetings to close the season at Exeter attracted a very decent crowd. Though there was one familiar face missing, bookie Paul Metcalfe who bets under the name of Jack Bevan. His right-hand man Ian was there with a brace of young ladies but no sign of the boss. It turned out that he’s laid up for some time after breaking his ankle. Ian said that he came back from doing his cobblers at a point to point (6 out of 7 jollies went in chipped another layer), marched into the kitchen and promptly slipped on the freshly mopped floor. He immediately felt that his ankle hurt a bit, but was quite taken back to see on further examination that his foot was pointing in the opposite direction to what it really should have been. Nasty. Let’s hope it heals in double-quick time, meanwhile Ian is holding the fort and will keep us all informed. It was also pointed out that as ruggedly  handsome as Paul may be, the girls are easier on the eye, so it’s not all bad for the punters.

Talking of which, there has been a change in the ring, well several to be honest, one bookie has changed his trading name to ‘Billy No Mates’. I’m told in reaction to a heated argument over several beers with fellow layers over place terms that have been well documented in these blogs. Billy no mates or not there was no evidence of anyone at all in the ring betting to anything other that traditional place terms today which is a right result for everyone especially the betting ring. Let’s hope that’s a corner turned.

50 years of going to Exeter races may have passed Badger by but that’s more than can be said for any stray note. He has long been the undisputed king of the ‘scoops’. For the uninitiated that is stray money floating around the betting ring dropped by clumsy punters. It is said that in his prime he could hear a note hit the floor from 20 paces. He told me he’d bagged his first scoop of the day before racing. He copped a score in the street so thought his luck must be in. It dawned on him that the strategy of  the evening was going to be keeping his eyes on the floor for further booty and not on the bookies the more traditional way of leaving the races better off than you went there. He kept it up too, all night as far as I could see, looking very determined.

As far as the racing went, not one favourite won. Maybe the Gambling Gods small reward for the Exeter bookies playing the game at long last? Probably not of course.

Ascot bound tomorrow.

Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Wincanton 12/04/13

One of the things about travelling the turf that isn’t often what it’s cracked up to be is staying away. Sometimes of course it is fantastic, generally big meetings where a group of you get together and socialise. That’s when you get to see people you only know by their racecourse persona in a totally different light. Very rarely in a worse one, once the pressures of racecourse goings-on are off sometimes amazing things happen. For example, nobody who was at that meal in Arundel a couple of Goodwoods ago will ever forget the delight and surprise to discover that a well-loved bookmaking family can transform into the singling  Von Trapps after a vino or two.

Staying over after Ascot was not one of those evenings. I had a fairly miserable night at the Sunbury Premier Inn, well not miserable exactly because it’s nice enough there. The problem was I had a  bit of a shock, I used the automated machine for checking in and  lugged my weary bones up the stairs to room 303 I had been allocated. By the way, the lift wasn’t broken but I’m on a fitness campaign to fight off middle-age, get me. My abode easily found, I slid in my key-card, the light went green and I tumbled into the room. Only to find somebody was already in it. I didn’t catch a glimpse of the incumbent but did hear the TV and see a suitcase with what looked like a builders hard hat on it. It flashed through my mind that I might well need that for protection should I be mistaken for an intruder up to no good. I made a hasty retreat back downstairs, but this time in the sanctuary of the lift. Lenny Henry never mentioned this scenario in the advert with tales of comfy beds and nice hot baths.

Luckily I wasn’t perused by an angry brickie and was apologised to  profusely by the bemused receptionist and given another room. The rest of the evening was spent having a meal for one in the bar. The only other customers were some quite loud Scottish lads all drinking beer and having fun. They did give me disapproving when I ordered a diet coke but apart from that just ignored me. Whilst sitting there a bit bored I checked through coming month’s schedule and decided I’d try and get some staying away mates for the next few nights away. I spotted the Saturday and Sunday Goodwood and Salisbury double, there is usually at least one firm who are up for staying up for that one so gave the bookie a call. Sadly he informed me that while they would normally would be up for it his main man’s father wasn’t too well so they would probably go home and back rather than stay en-route. He did add that he’d like to know where I was going to stay in because if the old boy got better they would join me.

I booked somewhere  on-line before heading to Wincanton so decided to search out the firm, established in 1897, on arrival. I marched into the ring and informed the boss where I had booked and then breezy as you like turned to the guy who’s father was poorly and wished him a speedy recovery. You know those moments when you immediately know that you have made a rick, the world stands still and everyone in earshot looks horrified? Yes, this was one of them. His father had since died. Doh. Where’s the ground to swallow you up when you need it. Maybe I shouldn’t have added that at least we’d be able to have that drink after racing at Goodwood now. Never start to dig deeper when you are already in trouble.

There was a really decent crowd at Wincanton, though sadly for the bookies most of them seemed to have backed the runaway winner of the opener from 13/8 all rates down to 11/8. Not a great start for the ring. The second race on the card was a 17-runner handicap, only two bookies appeared to be betting 1/4 the odds a place. I shall say no more, but on the bright side, the winner, Midnight Prayer landed a bit of a touch from 12/1 into 8/1.

Things went the way of the layers in the fourth race. The favourite, Addiction, had been a bit weak in the market but was a popular choice on course. There were a few rumblings around me that the drift was a bit fishy but those soon vanished when the jolly appeared to be going by far the best and looked the likely winner. Then he stumbled and unshipped jockey Nick Scholfield. ‘He jumped off’ screamed one slightly refreshed punter. There is no accounting for the way punters handle losing but it was probably a mercy that the poor jockey was out of earshot as he hobbled into the waiting ambulance.

The first real market move of the day didn’t come until the 7th race, the first division of the bumper. Despite there being solid support for the favourite Vodka ‘N Tonic, including a £700-£400, it was Spring Steel that was the big mover. The early 18/1 had collapsed into 13/2 at the off, nobody had stories of untold bundles of cash being spread around the ring for it, sadly those days have gone. Wherever the money had come from and how and where it was placed those involved could have been forgiven for thinking they’d copped when the gamble took up the lead at the furlong pole heading leader Tea For Two. It must have been a nasty feeling watching 18/1 shot  fight back and forge clear foiling the gamble by just over a length.

The winner was trained by Nick Williams, the Genius of George Nympton, owned by his wife Jane and ridden by her daughter Lizzy and apparently a surprise winner. Well that is how it looked for a while until a gangling figure, so far conspicuous by his absence, made his appearance. Beaming from ear to ear and gesticulating wildly, ‘Armaloft’ Alex. He’d evidently managed to keep his arm down for long enough for Lizzy and Tea For Two do their stuff, the result of which he’d had it spark off. Being a pal of the yard he often gets to know, and it appears he got to know today. Nobody had to say anything, the little gathering around him while he regaled all who would listen how exactly spark off he’d had it, had it written all over their faces, ‘Yes thanks Armaloft, no bloody good telling us now’. At least one of them must have started to look thirsty, so maybe fearing a costly round our victorious, non-tipping, hero quickly added that he hadn’t backed it on course.

He’s probably collected by now though, so Lizzy, if you are reading this, you can no doubt expect a very generous present next birthday or Christmas from our extremely grateful, loaded but secretive mate because that Axminster each-way he’d had on would have come to a nice few quid!

(c) Simon Nott

Grand National 1996 – Tales From The Betting Ring (Book Excerpt)

This is an excerpt from Skint Mob.

I was extremely pleased when the boss bought a pitch at Liverpool, just for the Saturday of the Grand National. I had never been so was very excited at the prospect of seeing the great race in the flesh. We were to bet on the embankment which was down by the start of the race near the usually dramatic first and second fences of the race. It was also the cheapest enclosure at the course. The pitch has previously been worked by an ageing silver ring firm and was according to them, maybe not surprisingly, a ‘goldmine’. It was ideal for the boss, he was going to enjoy the day out too and being a position that is only used the one day of the year there was no onus to make that long journey more than once a year.

As word got around that the firm had bought the pitch other rumours about the ‘goldmine’ came out, more like a gold rush in the Wild West was one opinion. Apparently although there was undoubtedly a large crowd out there they were according to some, drunken hooligans all, add to that aggressive and thieving and you get the picture that was being painted for us. Most of the stories about bookies getting rushed and their hods dipped or gangs of hard cases flash mobbing a pitch with a fabricated dispute and intimidating the firm into coughing up a sum of money in fear of their lives were third hand. Even though obviously told with a little bit of devilment  they patently preyed on the bosses mind. He did his best to give the impression that he had shrugged it all off. After all, the firm that sold it must have had a combined age of 400 years and had probably worked the pitch for 100 of them so it couldn’t be that bad.

On the eve of our first trip up to Liverpool it appeared that it could, or at least it had preyed on the bosses mind enough to give me a call. Tiverton had long-since had a reputation for harbouring its fair share of yobbos, at least for a small market town, so that is why he thought of me. Not for my street-fighting prowess, hell no, I’m 5′ 7” in my socks but always found it easy to get on well with the town’s hard nuts. That was the talent he was after. He wanted to know if I knew a ‘Reliable hard bastard that wouldn’t steal from us and knew a bit about racing’ anyone who met the criteria was to be asked if they’d like to come to the Grand National 1996 and work on the joint for a day.

I did know a few such fellows, most of the Tiverton hard cases around my age would have a punt in between their pints on a Saturday, that was enough to know about horseracing the boss told me. The one I asked was the hardest case in town. He was one of the volatile ones who was friendly enough to me on most occasions but you wouldn’t take liberties with him because you were still just as likely to get a smack around the chops if you said something out of turn. I saw this as a great opportunity to get in the tough guy’s good books a little bit more and thus protect my safety in Tiverton’s rougher drinking establishments in the future. My theory did seem to be barking up the right tree when the guy I had in mind was extremely excited to be asked. He was pretty chuffed when he got the full story that he was there as protection as well as giving change and was ready at the allotted time very early on the Saturday morning. He was dressed to the nines, suit and tie with a very smart raincoat. He sat in the front with the boss and elected to keep his coat on despite the boss suggesting as it was a long journey and he might be more comfortable with it off.

On the journey up to Liverpool the allotted hard-man told a fair few stories about how often he had been to the races and of his betting successes. Obvious to the boss and me that they were being embroidered somewhat, but not to worry it was his brick shit-house presence and hopefully amiable attitude that was needed. We stopped for a fry-up on the way up. The coat didn’t come off but the breakfast gratefully accepted and eagerly scoffed. My first sight of the approach to Aintree was a bit of a shock to all of us. The road was full of shops all metal shuttered and closed and had a grass verge running down the centre of it, strewn with rubbish. This quite desolate scene was a little alarming and I for one was glad to have brought our Tiverton protection. I think being miles outside of our comfort zone and heads filled with horror stories had affected us more than it should have, after all this was the world’s most famous horserace not some gypsy flapping track.

We had been advised that we would be better off paying to park in a nearby working mens’ club and walking the short distance to our enclosure to aid a quick getaway after racing. We followed instructions, paid the fiver and parked the car. The boss and I started unpacking the kit while our passenger shifted around looking uncomfortable, hardly surprising after being sat in the car for the best part of five hours with a rain coat on. He grimaced a bit and reached into the inside of his pocket, rummaged around a bit then to my horror and the bosses utter astonishment pulled out a large rubber cosh saying “This bastard has been sticking in my ribs for f***ing miles.” It was a horrendous freeze-frame type moment where I was unsure what was going to happen next. He broke the silence by re-sheathing his weapon with an “Oh that’s better” before returning to the passenger seat to get his bag, we dared not ask what was in there…………

(C) Simon Nott

‘Skint Mob’ it is about bookies, punters and racecourse regulars and has been quite well-received. Here’s a review from the Racing Post on Sunday 23rd March.

Review from the Racing Post 23/03/14

It’s available here on Amazon – Kindle and Paperback http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/0992755409/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_s7Ymtb0Y2B

Tales From The Betting Ring – Newbury 22/03/13

It was tipping it down when I left Devon and by all accounts blizzard-like up in the frozen north. Newbury’s weather was in something of a limbo. Wet without really pouring, very cold and just plain miserable. The bookies that did brave it made a sorry sight huddled under their umbrellas. It was definitely a day for the hardy and the hardcore on both sides of the punting fence. There was some sizeable punting going on though despite the outwardly desolate appearance of the ring. Maybe those money-buyers who lumped it on Pay The King at 2/5 wished they had stayed home in front of the fire when the 33/1 shock winner meant that they were paying the bookies.

One Tatts layer obviously got his and adopted the ‘cop it and hop it’ approach leaving after just the one race. It has to be said getting some envious looks from other bookies’ members of staff as they went. It was raining quite heavily on the run-up to the second race. One of the bigger punters looked like he really had to force himself from his seat in the stands down to the rails and back. He gave me a nod and wry smile on his return. I hoped it was worth it, he agreed. Judging by the look on his face and staying firmly in his seat after Frontier Spirit won we can guess that it wasn’t.

Race three saw another jolly beaten sinking three of four three-figure bets with it. Another firm were soon  packing up and heading off to somewhere warmer.  Not Paul Gold betting as Pickwick, he just gave me a distraught border-lining on despairing look when I asked if he’d laid the loser.

If the game was get the short one beaten then pack up, the three-horse race wasn’t the one to be doing it in. All those annoying betting shop punters who tap their noses knowingly pointing out that an outsider of three has just won wouldn’t have been doing it after jolly Bennys Mist made virtually all to amble home.

David Pipe’s Shotavodka attracted a four-figure bet at 7/2 in the next, it justified the support. By this point there was just a Hunter  Chase and Conditional Jockey’s race to bet on and the temperature plunging. More than enough reason for several more firms to go AWOL and the punters to lose interest all together. It was one of those days where you wonder if you really needed to be there.

One racegoer was loving it though, mind you he had spotted the number one at he furlong pole was upside-down and said that was the highlight of his day. That would be a bit unfair really, any day at the races has to beat most days elsewhere, just maybe not today….

7am inspection tomorrow.

Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Exeter 19/03/13

The betting ring at Exeter was humming with tales of Cheltenham as bookies set up for business before racing. Which ever way you looked at it, today’s business was going to be somewhat less chunky and frenetic as it had been at the festival. The six-race, small-field card and forecast nasty weather didn’t really auger well for a big crowd so expectations were modest. My shrewd pals in the ring said their ratings put the short ones top in the first four races. My eyes must have lit up as it was quickly added that no bet was advised due to the modest ratings and general average class of the combatants.

As always their advice was heeded, and profited on, or rather not lost on. Their selection and jolly in the opener Lauberhorn was beaten into fourth place behind My Viking Bay. The winner was backed from 5/1 into 4/1  but not to any noted money. Between races I did spot an ex, but still very active in racing, bookie chatting to a very long-standing professional punter. I did sort of wish I could lip-read what the tweed clad ex-layer and huge-binocular wielding punter were chatting about. Of course it could have easily have been the cost of pasties so let the curiosity pass.

By the time the second race was run you had to admire the hardy folk that populate Exeter Racecourse on days like today. It was tipping it down, but that didn’t deter those keen to have a bet. Mostly the punters were fairly well wrapped up in country clobber to keep out the elements but at least one guy was wandering around in shirt sleeves, seemingly impervious to the icy rain. Maybe he was too preoccupied getting involved  on another stick-on. This time the gamble was on Colin Tizzard’s Buckhorn Tom, backed from 11/4 into 2/1 and landed, beating the favourite into second. One punter managed to get a £900-£300 the winner early, come racing for value.

The third race was a six-runner affair with two horses flip-flopping around the even money mark 16/1 the field. Considering their customers had braved hideous weather to attend the course and bet with them rather than sit at home in front of the TV or a nice warm betting shop the majority of the ring let them down. Only half a dozen layers bet to the traditional odds of 1/4 a place while the others went 1/5th. The market leaders finished first and second so the place money stayed in the hods, you’d hope those that played the game fielded the vast majority of it.

The rain let up a bit for the next four-runner event. Gemini Ahhs was sent off the bottle-on jolly supported by a couple of fairly chunky bets but the layers kept the readies. The Nick Williams trained, Jane Williams owned, and Lizzy Kelly (daughter of the owner) ridden Wayward Frolic made all to land a family victory at odds of 15/2. Anyone who read my Cheltenham blogs might remember that our mate and racecourse regular ‘Armaloft Alex’  escaped a slip of the finger financial disaster by the skin of his nose working for a bookie on day one. It wasn’t attributed to that incident but he was at the festival in an unemployed capacity after that. He is a well-known face connected with the Genius of George Nympton’s yard but it was a surprise to see him one of the first to welcome the triumphant horse and jockey back into the winners’ enclosure. Nothing too strange about that in itself but he was also carrying a bucket, has his rick meant he sought a new job as lad at the yard?  Watch this space!

(c) Simon Nott

Tales From The Betting Ring – Cheltenham Gold Cup

Gold Cup Day started as a bit of a hangover from the World Hurdle though certainly not from booze, at least in my case, though in that respect I did appear to be in the minority. Dressed for the forecast rain I bumped into two of Geoff Bank’s glamour girls, anyone that read Thursday’s blog will know that I had been somewhat bullish about Reve de Sivola in the World Hurdle. They were both very sympathetic at my near miss, it didn’t last long though. One of them pointed out that I didn’t have a new tweed suit on but was wearing a distinctly non-glamorous raincoat, ‘With pen marks on’ as they noticed, to add to my shame and chagrin. It wasn’t all bad though, Geoff’s ex-clerk gave me a commiseration kiss on the cheek. Just a shame he is called Dave.

I did manage to avoid the tweed I couldn’t afford to buy on a visit to my mate the equestrian artist David Dent. He had a stall down at the tented  village which was doubling up as a studio. Catching him putting the finishing touches to a painting was a rare treat. Maybe out of next year’s winnings…

Gold Cup day is often different class when it comes to punters really having a go. It didn’t take long for word of the first actually confirmed genuine big bets to come filtering though. One Irish rails firm of some repute had evidently taken a stand against the jolly Rolling Star in the opener laying a £70,000- £20,000 and a monster £137500 – £50,000 as well as some ‘smaller’ wagers that would make your eyes water on any normal day. They were rewarded for their courage and never really had a moment’s worry as Our Conor ran the field ragged to win in most impressive style.

Business looked good on the rails where there appeared to be a veritable scrummage to get on. The forecast rain had started but not to the extent predicted in some quarters. It was enough for the the betting ring to mushroom umbrellas though. The announcement asking for bookies to take them down during racing didn’t exactly fall on deaf ears, but the mayhem that would have ensued with a couple of hundred computer systems going into rain/electricity meltdown down had they obeyed wouldn’t bear thinking about.

If there wasn’t excitement enough down in the ring as betting on the Gold Cup reached frenzied proportions it got notched up further. It wasn’t news of another monster bet but the appearance of a couple of  TV celebs in the shape of Russell Brand and Alan Carr complete with extended entourage. Having never seen either of them in the flesh before I was at first surprised just how tall the former is. Then doubly shocked that his ‘minder’ was even taller and at least twice as wide. There were to be no ‘Benny Hill’ style shenanigans as seen around Channel 4  Racing earlier in the week with that man-mountain about. The first racegoer to try getting up close and personal with his charge soon found his was blocked by a rock-solid arm of tree-trunk proportions.

The comic duo wandered up to the bookies for a bet, though I assume they weren’t the ones who had a couple of £22,000 – £8000 on the Gold Cup winner Bobs Worth. It has to be said that the punters were getting their own back after the outsider carnage and in-clover bookies of previous days. The next favourite won too, though is such cruel circumstances. when 20/1 Oscar Delta, who looked certain to win un-shipped it’s jockey on the run-in. The horse appeared to try to go around the course again then jinked at the last minute when hitting the near invisible rope blocking its way. That mishap left the well-backed favourite Salsify to win the race. 50/1 shot Divine Intervention finished 2nd and appeared aptly named. You’d hope that the multitude of punters clamouring to draw their winnings would have dropped a couple of quid into Comic Relief to acknowledge being jammy so and so’s.

The ring appeared to be half as busy as it was during the Gold Cup for the last couple of races, which was probably just as well for the layers when a right old touch was landed in the last care of the Mullins and McCoy combo with Alderwood. A lot of that business appeared to have been done off course so the ring only took the hit at around the 7/2 mark. It did look as if the majority of layers were not at all keen to stick their necks out and had already snapped the elastic bands around their winnings from earlier in the week so damage to their profits were probably limited but it was certainly last blood to the punters in what had been a bookie’s week.

So that was the end of another amazing Cheltenham Festival, I won’t say roll on next year because business resumes for me at Exeter on Tuesday. Proper job.

Tales From The Betting Ring – Cheltenham Thursday.

Well there it was, Cheltenham day 3 and all our hopes riding on Reve de Sivola. As is the norm for me when an exciting day beckons, I was up and at the track very early ready to soak in all the atmosphere. It was a glorious morning too, blue skies and sunshine, everything augured well for the day.

Being on-course so early there was plenty of time for catching up. One of the first bookies I saw was Johnny Boy, he used to work for Westcountry bookmaking legend and D-Day veteran Jack Lynn back when I did. He ambled up to me and said that his daughter Grace had been reading (and hopefully enjoying) these blogs. I told him how pleased I was about that. He then went on to say that Grace had made a request that I give her a mention in this one. Once he told me the reason and reminded me of the story I could hardly refuse.  Some years ago Johnny and I were both working down at Lower Tatts with Jack.  Johnny was one of best clerks around so was on pencil while I was eyes and ears on the floor. He was always very conscientious but had his mind on other things this particular year, his wife was due to give birth to their first child any day. Roy, Jack’s son, was aware of this, but told Johnny not to worry as ‘Nobody would have a baby Cheltenham week’. Sadly his wife Caron was unaware of this unwritten rule and promptly delivered a healthy bouncing girl, yes you guessed it, Grace, on the first day of the meeting. We were of course all very happy for the couple.

The next day Roy and Jack were not so happy. They told me that Johnny had decided that the joys of fatherhood and supporting his wife were more important that racing. Yes I know! But that it how it was, so in their words ‘He had left us in the lurch’. Followed by ‘You’ll have to clerk’. Now I did know how to clerk yes, I had a go once at a Bath evening meeting where the going was firm and each race had half a dozen runners at the most, but that was it. This was a day of monster handicaps. There was nothing for it though, I was thrown straight in at virtually the deepest end ever. ‘Just get make sure you get all the bets down’ was all I was told as both men machine-gunned wagers to me. It was all I could do to do just that. I managed OK for the first couple of races but it got busier and busier. As they were off for the 3rd I was asked how the book looked, I just looked up exasperated and said, with a few expletives, I had no idea how the bloody book looked, and I didn’t.

‘He’s useless Roy’ Jack decided. I agreed, luckily they got a replacement and I was put back on the floor. On the floor and put to shame that I couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t all bad though, the replacement turned out to be excellent so all was forgotten when it got to getting paid. Anyway, the reason for that story, I can hardly believe it but it was 20 years ago today. Happy birthday Grace, I’ve forgiven you but I’m not sure Jack and Roy have yet, give it time.

Today I wasn’t in the ring during racing so have no real tales to tell, apart from my personal one of woe. It may have been a mistake to go to Geoff Banks’ joint before racing and show his delightful bevy of  beautiful lady staff the brochure that contained a photo of the suit I was going to buy with my Reve de Sivola winnings. It was an Armaloft type mistake, though confidence was running high so let it get the better of me. I even promised to buy them all a bottle of champagne out of the winnings too.

Silly boy, I should have learned by now.

I should really have feared the worst when not long before the off a work-mate of mine called. Now this fella is a very nice chap with a heart of gold, but he is the biggest jinx known to betting man if you tell him you have had a bet. Of course, as any reader knows, I have told everyone about this bet on Reve at 33/1 and 12/1. He was just ringing to confirm it was Nick Williams, the Genius of George Nympton’s charge, that I had backed. I rolled my eyes and replied an affirmative that it was. I wasn’t quite ready for his reply, he thought so and just wanted to let me know that he had heard it wouldn’t win because it had missed some work. I thanked him for his kind words of good luck and encouragement. I knew each and every one of those words were cobblers but it costs nothing to be polite.

The worry was he was watching the race and knew which one I was on. Cue ‘Jaws’ music.

Anyway, the form book will forever tell us that Reve de Silvola did connections and trainer proud by running an extremely brave race staying on resolutely even when headed. He was still staying on when just chinned for 3rd and the place part of the 33/1 wager in the shadow of the post. Sorry Gambling Gods but that was a bit cruel. Disappointing but exhilarating none the less, the horse came back sound and lives to fight in the top flight another day. Sadly for the Timothy Foxx stall down at the village that was selling the light blue tweed jacket and waistcoat ensemble they have missed out on the sale.

Unless of course Geoff Bank’s girls gave him the brochure I left them.  Maybe he went and bought that smart tweed combo himself with the untold bundles he and his fellow bookies must have won today. They could hardly have written in better results themselves.  The ante-post money I now have to pull up will be a minuscule  drop in his winnings ocean, but would still pay for the waistcoat. And no, I didn’t lay the place part as advised yesterday.

I’ll be over the heartbreak by tomorrow, after all, it is Gold Cup Day.