Teach
01-08-2008, 10:03 PM
"Mike," I said, "Duck in behind ‘Bet-A-Billion’." "Billy," I continued." tail "the Beard." "Joe," I added, "get in behind ‘The Man’." These are some of the comments you might have heard at Foxboro Raceway nearly fifty years ago.
When we were teenagers, we used engage in the practice we was called "drafting." This kind of drafting had nothing to do with auto racing, NASCAR, or the Indy 500. It had everything to do with betting on harness races.
During the late-1950s and early 60s, my friends and I were regulars at Foxboro Raceway’s summer harness racing meet. At the time, we were young, foolish, and well, "wet behind the ears." We were filled with crazy ideas and crazy schemes. In fact, most of us were so young we had barely graduated from high school. Being young, we would engage in youthful indiscretions. One of those indiscretions was the activity I'm about to describe:"drafting."
What is drafting? Simply stated: It’s ducking in behind a well-heeled bettor who’s about to make a wager to find out what horse he’s betting on. From our nightly visits, we would quickly learn who the big bettors were. We would determine who our "pigeons" were. Now, mind you, we meant them no harm. We were not trying to deceive or defraud them. All we wanted to know was: Who were they betting on?
When we "drafted," we’d subtly tail them into line. It had to be done with quickness and finesse. You had to be quick; yet you had to accomplish the whole process without any undo attention. You had to act like an ordinary patron hurrying to get in line to make a bet.
I’ll provide a hypothetical example. Let’s say I was assigned to tail "Bet-A-Billion," or as we simply called him, "The Bet." I’d be watching him outta the corner of my eye. It was almost as if I were casing a job. Suddenly, I see him head for the window. Well, with the kind of moves that Detroit running back Barry Sanders used to make, I would quickly, but unobtrusively, duck in behind him. We used to call this process: "Running To Daylight."
Seconds later, "The Bet" is calling out his wagers. I’m within earshot. I’m making mental notes. I know what horse he’s bet and how much. After he’s left the window, I quickly (so as not to slow up the line) make a token $2 show bet on the horse he's just bet, or I might bet the prohibitive favorite. I then come back with my information. Others have done the same with their assigned "pigeons."
Well, we quickly collate our findings. We make an assessment. We pool our funds; one of us then goes to the window. Sometimes we’d bet; yet other times we didn’t. If there were, as they say in legal circles "a preponderance of evidence," we would likely make the wager. However, if we got conflicting signals, we’d back off.
Some of these guys that we followed began to sense what we were doing. That’s why we were always bringing in new recruits; we would "change crews."
Sometimes, the guys we tailed would go to the $50 window. It was private; it was secluded. It was off limits. We were out of luck. However, most of the time, they were too lazy to walk the extra few feet. So they’d go to the windows the small bettors used; that’s when we’d "draft."
There were also times when our "pigeons" would wait until the last minute to bet. In that case, there was no time for verbal exchange. Instead, we used signals. At those times, you’d think you weren’t at Foxboro Raceway but at the Chicago Board of Trade.
In the end, come to think of it, we didn’t make much money. In reality, we were probably lucky if we were breaking even. It was a childish game. A sport. A diversion. When I think back about it, I picture myself as one of those street urchins in Dickens’ "Oliver Twist." You know: "You’ve got to pick a pocket or two..." Only we weren’t picking anybody’s pockets, we were gathering information. Another aspect to all this was the fact that we were relatively poor guys. Even if we did get solid information, we didn’t have the funds to really take advantage of it.
Nowadays, every time I watch a NASCAR race and I hear the announcer say "that’s Tony Stewart drafting in behind Jimmie Johnson," I start to chuckle. In our day, the concept of "drafting" had a whole different meaning.
When we were teenagers, we used engage in the practice we was called "drafting." This kind of drafting had nothing to do with auto racing, NASCAR, or the Indy 500. It had everything to do with betting on harness races.
During the late-1950s and early 60s, my friends and I were regulars at Foxboro Raceway’s summer harness racing meet. At the time, we were young, foolish, and well, "wet behind the ears." We were filled with crazy ideas and crazy schemes. In fact, most of us were so young we had barely graduated from high school. Being young, we would engage in youthful indiscretions. One of those indiscretions was the activity I'm about to describe:"drafting."
What is drafting? Simply stated: It’s ducking in behind a well-heeled bettor who’s about to make a wager to find out what horse he’s betting on. From our nightly visits, we would quickly learn who the big bettors were. We would determine who our "pigeons" were. Now, mind you, we meant them no harm. We were not trying to deceive or defraud them. All we wanted to know was: Who were they betting on?
When we "drafted," we’d subtly tail them into line. It had to be done with quickness and finesse. You had to be quick; yet you had to accomplish the whole process without any undo attention. You had to act like an ordinary patron hurrying to get in line to make a bet.
I’ll provide a hypothetical example. Let’s say I was assigned to tail "Bet-A-Billion," or as we simply called him, "The Bet." I’d be watching him outta the corner of my eye. It was almost as if I were casing a job. Suddenly, I see him head for the window. Well, with the kind of moves that Detroit running back Barry Sanders used to make, I would quickly, but unobtrusively, duck in behind him. We used to call this process: "Running To Daylight."
Seconds later, "The Bet" is calling out his wagers. I’m within earshot. I’m making mental notes. I know what horse he’s bet and how much. After he’s left the window, I quickly (so as not to slow up the line) make a token $2 show bet on the horse he's just bet, or I might bet the prohibitive favorite. I then come back with my information. Others have done the same with their assigned "pigeons."
Well, we quickly collate our findings. We make an assessment. We pool our funds; one of us then goes to the window. Sometimes we’d bet; yet other times we didn’t. If there were, as they say in legal circles "a preponderance of evidence," we would likely make the wager. However, if we got conflicting signals, we’d back off.
Some of these guys that we followed began to sense what we were doing. That’s why we were always bringing in new recruits; we would "change crews."
Sometimes, the guys we tailed would go to the $50 window. It was private; it was secluded. It was off limits. We were out of luck. However, most of the time, they were too lazy to walk the extra few feet. So they’d go to the windows the small bettors used; that’s when we’d "draft."
There were also times when our "pigeons" would wait until the last minute to bet. In that case, there was no time for verbal exchange. Instead, we used signals. At those times, you’d think you weren’t at Foxboro Raceway but at the Chicago Board of Trade.
In the end, come to think of it, we didn’t make much money. In reality, we were probably lucky if we were breaking even. It was a childish game. A sport. A diversion. When I think back about it, I picture myself as one of those street urchins in Dickens’ "Oliver Twist." You know: "You’ve got to pick a pocket or two..." Only we weren’t picking anybody’s pockets, we were gathering information. Another aspect to all this was the fact that we were relatively poor guys. Even if we did get solid information, we didn’t have the funds to really take advantage of it.
Nowadays, every time I watch a NASCAR race and I hear the announcer say "that’s Tony Stewart drafting in behind Jimmie Johnson," I start to chuckle. In our day, the concept of "drafting" had a whole different meaning.