In the early 1970s, I was at the Leopardstown races in Dublin, Ireland.
I must have been in early HS years - can't recall exactly.
On Wednesdays, though, school got out early and it was a mile walk to the track.
Getting out at noon, the first race was usually around 1:00 in the winter time, or early spring. Perfect.
On this particular day, I think it was either in late Feb or early March, I was walking down into the betting ring where the bookmakers stood. We were probably approaching the second, or third race, out of six, and I may have even been fortunate enough to be on my way to collect some winnings, but that may be stretching it
.
I can still see the faces of these two bookies in the ring - one leaning up to another I knew, and giving him some information about the upcoming hunter chase. Old Sam (last name withheld), then in his 80s, and about as old school as they came, was bending down listening to this well dressed man, and I was close enough to get the gist of the conversation. A certain female trainer from the north of Ireland had a runner in the next race that was in tremendous form - form which had not been displayed before on the track.
Sam listened, nodded a couple of times, and got down from his foot stand.
The conversation had lasted all of 10 seconds.
Both men adjourned to the bar under the grandstand.
Sam never missed a race when he attended a meeting.
Always up at his pitch doing business, and shouting the odds as the runners went to post.
I'd watched him casually for a few years - I was relatively new at this game.
He'd been making book for a long time before I was around.
I also happened to know two of his granddaughters who were at the same school.
Very friendly girls - but that's another story.
Sam did not return to his pitch before that race. Highly unusual.
It was obvious that any business he would do on this occasion,
would be done under the radar.
My normal one or two pound bet ($2-3) would need to be increased here.
A look around the ring - the opening 10-1 odds on this horse were vanishing fast.
Next quote 8-1, and I clenched a five pound note tight and gave it to a bookmaker who I can't recall now.
He repeated my bet to his clerk behind the board - "40 pounds to 5 on horse XXX, ticket number 865". I was down.
The race, which I do remember, was the Kilgobbin Hunter Chase and was run over 3 miles.
I never had an anxious moment during the race.
The horse jumped like a stag, and won easily. Closing odds were around 3-1.
I was locked-in at 8-1, so no worries there.
Many bookmakers took a pounding on that race. Sam wasn't one of them.
Was the fix in? Unlikely.
This was a lightly raced improving horse. There were no superstars in opposition - the race was there for the taking.
Sometimes inside information can be quite profitable.
