ian_go
timesonline.co.uk
ON THE LEVEL FROM the solitary confines of the new gambling habitat has emerged a welcome blast from the past. Every Saturday morning for the past few weeks, punters have abandoned their computers for the trip to their high street bookmaker. Old betting haunts, long since abandoned by betting exchange players, have been a hive of activity. And all because of Pricewise.
Racing Post’s much-followed tipping service has been on a roll. Most recently, victory for the auspiciously-named Tax Free made it ten winning Saturdays on the trot. Which is really going some, as all regular punters will vouchsafe. And of course, bookmakers claim to be dying a miserable death by a thousand cuts. Their wallets are light, their Bentleys grounded. Affluent smiles have been wiped clean from their lips. Or at least, that’s what they would like us to believe.
The role as villains of racing’s pantomime suits bookmakers down to the ground. They are in their element and have played the part to perfection. The way they have handled the Pricewise bandwagon should be adopted as lesson one by universities tutoring students in the skills of public relations. It has been a masterclass.
Rarely have bookmakers and racing’s trade newspaper been in such harmony of late. Upset at advertising costs, hounded for the punter’s pound by rivals such as betting exchanges and online casinos with significant promotional budgets, traditional bookmakers have been feeling more than a little unloved. For now, however, the barricades have been lifted. Bookmakers are only too delighted to pay Pricewise homage.
Each profitable Saturday has seen their offensive brilliantly reflect the rising tide of punter optimism. From caution to lament and latterly desperation, those paid to propagate the image of suffering bookmakers deserve healthy pay rises. “The man’s a genius,” says one of Pricewise. “We can only pray," pleads another. “We’ll gladly pay to send him on holiday,” decrees one more. All printed in screaming headlines for ingestion by doting punters.
The effect has been to reverse the roles of bookmaker and punter. For a change, the former is having to pay the latter, who is fortified by the knowledge that he shares the winning feeling with thousands of Pricewise followers. This rich vein of success generates a momentum wholly beyond the betting exchanges that have impacted so forcefully on traditional bookmakers, who are playing on the fact.
Betting on exchanges is a solitary pursuit, a one-on-one experience in which winning brings financial reward but no one with which to celebrate. The Pricewise run is a collective assault on the predator who habitually feasts on them. A pack of young cubs have brought down the hyaena. Except that this particular hyaena is smiling. He knows full well that the gains are temporary. The money is only lent.
That is why bookmakers are shedding crocodile tears. They know that such winning streaks are the stuff of their dreams. They take the hit with good grace, safe in the knowledge that the cash will eventually return to their tills. They can afford to be magnanimous, if exasperated by the length of the run. The last time punters had it so good was when Frankie Dettori went through the card at Ascot. Nine long years ago.
Betting is one of life’s great escapes. Never mind those hunched over computer screens in darkened rooms, the vast majority of punters crave a slice of free cash paid in person by the betting shop clerk. However, like stock markets, currencies, pension funds and property, good follows bad follows good follows bad.
Indeed, one bookies’ rep gave the game away when he said that losses were escalating as punters reinvested their winnings. When the crash comes, as it invariably will, losses will accumulate far more quickly than the winnings ever did. That, unfortunately, is the nature of the betting beast. And bookmakers are wise to it.
Should you seek evidence, look no further than the example of J. P. McManus, who started out life on the wrong side of the counter. His metamorphosis from punter to bookmaker wasn’t long in the making, with the result that McManus, through lessons well learnt, is one of the most prosperous individuals around. In contrast, some start life on the right side of the counter before making the move in reverse. It is due to a switch from banking, after a profitable winning run on the horses, that you are reading these words at all.
ON THE LEVEL FROM the solitary confines of the new gambling habitat has emerged a welcome blast from the past. Every Saturday morning for the past few weeks, punters have abandoned their computers for the trip to their high street bookmaker. Old betting haunts, long since abandoned by betting exchange players, have been a hive of activity. And all because of Pricewise.
Racing Post’s much-followed tipping service has been on a roll. Most recently, victory for the auspiciously-named Tax Free made it ten winning Saturdays on the trot. Which is really going some, as all regular punters will vouchsafe. And of course, bookmakers claim to be dying a miserable death by a thousand cuts. Their wallets are light, their Bentleys grounded. Affluent smiles have been wiped clean from their lips. Or at least, that’s what they would like us to believe.
The role as villains of racing’s pantomime suits bookmakers down to the ground. They are in their element and have played the part to perfection. The way they have handled the Pricewise bandwagon should be adopted as lesson one by universities tutoring students in the skills of public relations. It has been a masterclass.
Rarely have bookmakers and racing’s trade newspaper been in such harmony of late. Upset at advertising costs, hounded for the punter’s pound by rivals such as betting exchanges and online casinos with significant promotional budgets, traditional bookmakers have been feeling more than a little unloved. For now, however, the barricades have been lifted. Bookmakers are only too delighted to pay Pricewise homage.
Each profitable Saturday has seen their offensive brilliantly reflect the rising tide of punter optimism. From caution to lament and latterly desperation, those paid to propagate the image of suffering bookmakers deserve healthy pay rises. “The man’s a genius,” says one of Pricewise. “We can only pray," pleads another. “We’ll gladly pay to send him on holiday,” decrees one more. All printed in screaming headlines for ingestion by doting punters.
The effect has been to reverse the roles of bookmaker and punter. For a change, the former is having to pay the latter, who is fortified by the knowledge that he shares the winning feeling with thousands of Pricewise followers. This rich vein of success generates a momentum wholly beyond the betting exchanges that have impacted so forcefully on traditional bookmakers, who are playing on the fact.
Betting on exchanges is a solitary pursuit, a one-on-one experience in which winning brings financial reward but no one with which to celebrate. The Pricewise run is a collective assault on the predator who habitually feasts on them. A pack of young cubs have brought down the hyaena. Except that this particular hyaena is smiling. He knows full well that the gains are temporary. The money is only lent.
That is why bookmakers are shedding crocodile tears. They know that such winning streaks are the stuff of their dreams. They take the hit with good grace, safe in the knowledge that the cash will eventually return to their tills. They can afford to be magnanimous, if exasperated by the length of the run. The last time punters had it so good was when Frankie Dettori went through the card at Ascot. Nine long years ago.
Betting is one of life’s great escapes. Never mind those hunched over computer screens in darkened rooms, the vast majority of punters crave a slice of free cash paid in person by the betting shop clerk. However, like stock markets, currencies, pension funds and property, good follows bad follows good follows bad.
Indeed, one bookies’ rep gave the game away when he said that losses were escalating as punters reinvested their winnings. When the crash comes, as it invariably will, losses will accumulate far more quickly than the winnings ever did. That, unfortunately, is the nature of the betting beast. And bookmakers are wise to it.
Should you seek evidence, look no further than the example of J. P. McManus, who started out life on the wrong side of the counter. His metamorphosis from punter to bookmaker wasn’t long in the making, with the result that McManus, through lessons well learnt, is one of the most prosperous individuals around. In contrast, some start life on the right side of the counter before making the move in reverse. It is due to a switch from banking, after a profitable winning run on the horses, that you are reading these words at all.