Thursday, June 19, 2008
How About a New Bet Horseplayers Might Actually Win
How come most every time a new wager is introduced, the degree of difficulty is always very high? Because windfall payoffs make good publicity? Of course. And, after all, who doesn’t want the opportunity to make a score every so often?
But when the reasonable expectation of success depends more on bankroll size than skill, eliminating about nine of every 10 bettors, begs the question who benefits most? Certainly not the overwhelming majority of horseplayers.
And that’s not to mention the higher takeout rates that accompany super-exotic wagers.
Another Pick Six is just what this game doesn‘t need. In concept, the Sixty-Minute Six is nothing new. It’s a variation on the Magna Five theme, plus one. And the fast payoff concept has been promoted here before, too, thanks to erstwhile efforts of exotic pool wagering specialist, Vinnie Ralph.
Ralph’s idea, proposed to Churchill Downs officials earlier this spring, had more pizzazz and hopefully will be adopted by next year. He called his bet the Quick Six, and it included stakes races from all tracks in the CDI corporate family on the first Saturday of May, the bet culminating with the 20-horse Kentucky Derby. The cost of the wager? Fifty cents. "A bet for the little guy [that could attract significant handle]," Ralph wrote.
The Sixty-Minute Six, which begins June 21, will be offered every Saturday through August 30 and wets the inaugural beak with a $100,000 guaranteed pool. It involves races from four Northeastern tracks; Delaware Park, Monmouth Park, Philadelphia Park and Belmont Park/Saratoga.
Based on New Jersey Pick Six rules, it’s virtually the same as those that Pick Six players are already familiar. The takeout rate is 25 percent. Seventy-five percent of the pool is paid to winners of Pick Six, 25 percent to those picking five. In the event nobody picks six, 75 percent of the pool is carried over to the following Saturday. If there is a dead heat for win, both horses count as sequence winners.
There are no refunds due to late scratches; bettors automatically are shifted to the post time favorite. Should two horses attract the exact amount of play, the designated favorite will be the one with the inner-most post position.
If, however, a turf race is rescheduled to the main track, that race is declared null and void and the bet effectively becomes a Pick Five, or Pick Four, etc., etc. If four or more races are rescheduled, the entire pool is refunded.
The attraction is that since the wager commences late in the day, chances are high there will be several stakes races in the mix. The remaining benefits lie with the tracks, since players are compelled to look at each venue's past performances.
I thought Churchill Downs’ recently introduced Matrix was interesting in its outside the box approach. (Well, they had to come up with something after the useless Over/Under. I understand trying to simplify wagering for new fans. But this is dumbing down to the nadir level. And not many bettors walk up to the window and say: “Give me the 15, cold).”
The Matrix is a $9-minimum wager requiring bettors to choose any three horses they wish in one race. Essentially, the Matrix gives you a wager on each of the three horses to win and six separate exacta and trifecta combinations, which are boxed wagers. Payouts are calculated and paid on a fractional basis. In essence, the $9 Matrix is 15 60-cent wagers.
Simplistic on its face, it provides bettors wide leverage and an opportunity to make a decent hit for relatively small dollars. Obviously, the optimum time to play is when a favorite appears particularly vulnerable. On those occasions, a double digit winner could yield enough to pay for the other 14 “losers” on the ticket. Currently the bet is available on track only.
Now if there were software available on a national basis that could facilitate fractional wagering, then a typical fan could get more coverage for his limited bankroll, keeping him liquid. The greater the liquidity, the more money in the pool. The more money in the pool, the better for everybody.
When dime superfectas were first introduced, many management types complained it would impact negatively on other pools and affect bonanza payoffs adversely. Empirically, that doesn’t seem to be the case and superfecta pools have grown to the extent that they are creeping up on trifecta action.
But I do love how on big race days tracks keep the superfecta minimum at $1, which keeps many customers out of those pools. Ain’t greed grand?
Written by John Pricci
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Time for Reflection on a Life Well Lived
We interrupt our coverage of thoroughbred racing to remind you that at 4 p.m. today, services for the late Tim Russert will be broadcast on national television. It’s what his family wanted and clearly what this the late husband and father deserves.
I’ve been a dad for 32 years. I think I’ve done a fairly decent job because my daughters have grown up to be great people; kind, considerate, fair minded, and very respectful of seniors. That seems like an objective measure, so I‘m comfortable thinking this way.
When I woke up Father’s Day morning and turned on the television, there was a still photograph of Timothy J. Russert on the screen, above the dates 1950-2008. Tim Russert might have been a huge Springsteen fan, but it is Billy Joel who reminds us that only the good die young.
Russert, the poster boy for fatherhood and Big Russ’s son, died suddenly last Friday. Like so many Americans, days later I remain in a state of disbelief, an uncomfortable mix of shock, anger and profound sadness.
It was Keith Olbermann who brought this subject up Friday night on MSNBC. Trying to get beyond his grief, Olbermann attempted to put his colleague's death in some big picture perspective. That’s what journalists do, especially at times like this. Does Russert’s death have meaning beyond tragic loss for the family he left behind? .
Journalists are expected to reach deep into the recesses of a place where Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite once and still live, searching for meaning, the why of it all. That’s if they can summon up the dispassion needed for the job.
Fair? Justice has nothing to do with any of this.
The loss was and is profound in ways yet to be measured. When do we learn why, at the conclusion of the August conventions, the end of the election cycle in the wee hours of the first Wednesday in November, on January 20 when the next POTUS takes his oath of office?
Only God, the God of Russert, of Moses, of Mohammed, of Allah, the God of us all, can know this.
And so I spent Father’s Day morning watching “Meet the Press”--because if it’s Sunday it’s Meet the Press--with my family. I thought about what it means to call yourself a journalist.
I fancy myself one, which I define as a truth-seeking, straight-record setting exposer of wrong-doing. I hold feet to fires as if I had a right to be judge, jury and executioner.
Journalist? Next to Russert I feel fortunate I can even use the term, spell the word correctly without first clicking on a link. Because of Russert and his role models, I can take pride in the profession, in some measure giving back for the privilege of having a voice in a sport that I love, the game and the people and animals in it.
If I could take anything from a man I’ve never met but long admired for his work ethic, pursuit of truth and service to country, a job done with consumate professionalism and understanding, it would be to become a better journalist.
To accomplish that I must become more objective, look for a third source when two won‘t do, and be less personal in critical commentary. I admit that at times I’ve been guilty of playing “gotcha,’” getting too emotional when frustration levels climb into the red zone.
It’s business and sometimes I take it personally.
But I can do better because of some shared background, a big city kid from a working class family with a parochial education times three--or maybe because the pursuit of truth and justice--not political capital and greed--is the true American ideal.
My daughter Linda watched “Meet the Press” with me on Father’s Day and was taken with Tim Russert’s outlook on life; how it's everyone’s responsibility to bend down and pick up those among us who are less fortunate.
“I don’t even know the man,” she said, “and he makes me want to be a better person.”
Written by John Pricci
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Next Up for Curlin, Big Brown: How About the Breeders’ Cup Turf?
The Triple Crown is over, Big Brown is now back on Winstrol, and Curlin is expected to take care of business in the Grade 1 Stephen Foster today.
While it outwardly appears that all of Curlin’s connections are on the same page, maybe cracks are beginning to show in the Big Brown camp.
For now, and probably for the rest of the season, Kent Desormeaux is Big Brown’s present and future rider, barring a repeat of the Belmont Stakes strategy scenario. Then all bets are off.
Edgar Prado, who invited Rick Dutrow’s wrath for his Preakness race-ride, is still, in Dutrow’s words, his “man.” But, like Bud Delp said of Bill Shoemaker, Bob Frieze is just a phone call away. Desormeaux, however, is Michael Iavarone’s man.
Tangentially, a question for Iavarone. You hired Gary Stevens as a consultant on all things Big Brown, so please settle this for me. Was Stevens hired to possibly confer with Desormeaux on pre-race strategy, or to throw him under the bus after the fact?
Disappointed minds would really like to know.
The barn’s post-Belmont game plan was to run in the Travers and Breeders’ Cup Classic. Now the owner is talking about a Travers prep, the $1 million Haskell, which works, of course. Iavarone also talked about how the Monmouth Park surface probably would be to Big Brown’s loving.
There was no mention of a purse boost, or an “appearance fee,” something which is included in the past performance lines of New Jersey Sports and Exposition Authority management. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, despite the creepiness.
But Dutrow said he’d prefer to train Big Brown up to the Travers. With the Triple Crown over, Dutrow wants him on the kind of schedule that works for all Dutrow‘s horses, and it might serve Big Brown better, too.
It could be that Iavarone is erring on the side of the Benjamins here. Nothing wrong with that, either.
Outside of the barn and its connections, Curlin’s post-Foster schedule is still very much up in the air. The Louisville Courier Journal reported this week that Steve Asmussen wants no part of synthetic track racing for Curlin.
Not only is the trainer entitled, but good for him. Asmussen would rather have Curlin make his turf debut in Paris for $6 million than run for $5 million on whatever that stuff is at Santa Anita.
Knowing this to be the case, I asked Iavarone before the Belmont whether he’d consider laying this challenge down to the Curlin folks: Forget about having Paris, guys. If you want to run on grass, let’s meet in the Breeders’ Cup Turf. The Derby winner defeating an older Horse of the Year on grass might even add to Brownie’s breeding value. Given the correlation between Polytrack success on turf, maybe breeders would seek out Big Brown’s progeny because that offspring might have a reasonable chance for success on three surfaces?
Iavarone said that the Classic has far more prestige, perhaps erring on the side of the Benjamins again. Remember, the schedule is Iavarone’s call, not Three Chimneys’.
Barbara Banke, wife of Curlin’s principal owner Jess Jackson, thinks of their horse as a potential international star. Beyond the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe, they are said to be considering the Japan Cup, another big ticket item. They learned in Dubai that Curlin can win without Lasix, important in Japan, not so much in Europe where drug testing, it is said, can be a bit spotty.
The Breeders’ Cup Turf is the only place where Big Brown can meet Curlin in the United States with international implications. Jackson is a sportsman, otherwise Curlin would be retired. Taking Iavarone at his word, so is he, saying before the Belmont that Big Brown would have two more races.
So think about this, please? Three million, plus breeding bragging rights, beats the old sharp stick in the eye.
Written by John Pricci