PLAYER STRATEGY
HORSERACING: Take What They Give There is not a horseplayer alive who hasn’t dreamed of the “ultimate score.” The one extremely optimistic goal for anyone who invests into the Sport of Kings with any regularity is to have the perfect storm of events blend together for a fleeting moment to form the flawless race. Our vision is a plane of unparallel wisdom and foresight where everything uncannily falls into line just as imagined, thus granting total financial security for a lifetime. On the first Saturday in May in 2009, fate chose a handful of gamblers who ran through the raindrops and indeed caught lightning in a bottle. Twenty-three $2 superfecta tickets were cashed from the Kentucky Derby with the unlikely 50-1 shot Mine That Bird leading the way. Each ticket returned the life changing amount of $557,006.40. These chosen few have crossed over into the Promised Land, they have beaten the game. As for the rest of us left in Purgatory, the grind continues. Such an impossible equine capturing the roses left yours truly and countless other enthusiasts of the turf drowning in a sea of post Derby depression. After I licked my wounds, my focus naturally turned towards the Preakness Stakes and an opportunity at redemption. In the days preceding the second jewel of the Triple Crown, I noticed a great majority of my time had been spent pondering on how I was going to empty the coffers of Pimlico Racetrack. I just did not want to cash a modest ticket on the race, I yearned to imitate the patrons who had won half a million dollars on the Derby. Preakness morning I spent several hours pouring over the Daily Racing Form running lines and mapped out a dozen or so exotic betting strategies within the amount of my bankroll. Undoubtedly, I was swinging for the fences. If any of these number combinations showed up on the tote board, the paramedics had better be heading my way with cardiac paddles in hand. On my drive up to Orlando Jai-Alai Fronton and Race Book to place my Preakness wagers, something was amiss in my psyche. I was confident that I had identified the fastest horse entered in the Preakness but lacked conviction that I could depend on the runners completing the trifectas and superfectas on my proposed betting slips. I 18
| G A M I N G A N D D E S T I N AT I O N S . C O M
by
E R I C VAU G H N F LOY D
finally conceded that aside from my opinion the filly Rachel Alexandra would win the Preakness, I was utterly lost. Upon entering the race book and discovering that my top selection was offering a return of 9/5, I begrudgingly decided to abandon my dreams that on this day I would capture unequivocal wealth. I put a c-note on the chalk’s nose and took a seat. My gambling mentor and good friend Howard Ostrom taught me a very valuable lesson when I first met him. He insisted that even though a person might be a formidable handicapper they may also constantly visit the ATM machine due to the fact that they bet poorly. A facet of this doctrine states that sometimes you have to simply “Take what the racetrack is giving.” In the heat of the moment within the confines of a hectic gaming arena where an infinite amount of emotion is swirling around you, this is often the absolute hardest advice to heed. Satisfaction easily turns to greed when after cashing a $14 dollar winner you notice a patron two windows away signing a tax form and pocketing three dimes. With three minutes to post before the Preakness Stakes, I ran into the men’s room and overheard one patron tell another his thoughts on the highly anticipated race. “I know that filly is going to win this thing man, but the favorite won’t pay anything. I threw her out of my exacta box.” After my elation settled down from the sight of Rachel Alexandra crossing the wire ahead of the Preakness field, my thoughts returned to that gentleman’s comments. He had given away the race and his hard earned cash because he was blinded by unrealistic expectations. Mine That Bird, who was the second place finisher in the Preakness, never had a home on any of my original exotic tickets. Pressing my chase of an outlandish victory would have resulted in disaster. I have not always made wise decisions within the track’s confines but in this very important instance I was indeed a good handicapper and a good bettor. The last thing I want is for my words to tarnish any horseplayer’s fantasy of striking it rich. After all, that is the reason most of us initially entered the game.
Eric Vaughn Floyd is a turf writer for various gaming publications and is a consultant to several nationwide media outlets in regards to the Triple Crown. Excerpts of his gambling memoir “The Backstretch (My First Decade Playing the Game)” can be viewed at LULU.com
“TWENTY-THREE $2 SUPERFECTA TICKETS WERE CASHED FROM THIS YEAR’S KENTUCKY DERBY.”
FOR MORE FREE TIPS, VISIT GAMINGANDDESTINATIONS.COM
