Del Mar stars Natasha, Bobby Sleeth and Toni Exuim, Part 1

by Frank Cotolo

Let us call her Natasha to respect her anonymity. She was one of a few main characters in the fabric of my romantic existence when I went rogue to become a professional gambler living in Leucadia, San Diego. Natasha lived and worked about 20 miles south of Leucadia but she stayed with me on weekends to accompany me at my workplace, Del Mar Racetrack.

The splendiferous Spanish-designed layout on county fairgrounds, blankets 370 acres along the Pacific Ocean coastline. The horizon view alone is worth the trip. It is a vacation jewel that attracts a slew of wealthy outsiders for social getaways. Less San Diegans attend the races, and then, mostly for weekend entertainment.

The thoroughbred meet was featured once a year during the summer months. Since opening in 1937 the track hosted a few brief harness racing meets but most of the information about them was purged from texts about the track’s history.

I spent the first few weeks at my new digs organizing my essential business tools: a MacIntosh computer for housing records of all win bets (there would be no place or show or exotic wagers); trip-notes on horses’ performances (including races played or passed); and personal notes reflecting accuracy and/or faulty odds-line figures.

My bankroll was a solid five figures. Every penny invested was to be guided by strict handicapping and the mathematics calculated to make valued win wagers. I kept separate funds for food and rent and spent next to nothing on decorating the joint. I was easily able to adapt to the change in environment because the jazz of living an unconventional lifestyle exhilarated me. All of this was new to Natasha but she was also exhilarated.

And the best for us both was yet to come.

In April, Del Mar only offered simulcasting; multi-track wagering was available from the bulk of northern California thoroughbred meets.

And Los Alamitos harness racing.

Beginning my professional pari-mutuels playing career with harness racing from Los Al harness was a great starting point. I knew all of the horsemen and the histories of the active standardbreds on the small circuit. Not to mention that I loved betting harness racing more than betting runners. Doing well for the few months before Del Mar’s major thoroughbred meet opened, would lift my confidence as well as increase my bankroll.

I introduced pari-mutuel horse racing to Natasha that April. I was well prepared the evening of April 16, 1988 because my daily routine was prescribed. Before noon I strolled across the railroad tracks to an outdoor cafe for breakfast. I was relaxed because all of my handicapping work for that night’s racing was done the previous evening. (In California at that time the harness past performances [PPs] were published in the local Daily Racing Form).

After breakfast I walked the long way home and thought about Natasha. Not about betting that night so as to impress her, but about the lovely things about her and how I would delight sharing my proclivity for pari-mutuel play. What I did not do while waiting for her to arrive was review any of my handicapping. My prep for the evening rested with my POL and wagering charts.

The simulcast area for harness racing was sparse. Good for me. The lack of traffic made my access to race monitors and betting windows easy.

“So, what are all the dark numbers on your racing form?” Natasha said.

“These are the odds I think each of these horses have to win. Percentages,” I said and showed her my odds-to-percentage chart.

She held the chart and pointed to the PPs of a horse in the form and said, “So, like, this two means 2-1 odds or a 33 per cent chance to win.”

Smart is as beautiful as beauty itself. “Right. You’re good at math.”

“Not bad. But how do you pick a winner?”

“I never pick a winner. But I do play winners.”

Then I told her as simple as I could how I translate my POL into bets. “I play the horse that offers more than the odds I assign it. But never any I assign more than 6-1.”

“Okay,” she said, “So, you don’t play every race.”

“You get it. I only bet a horse when my figures offer better odds than the betting public.”

I showed her how I referred to my betting chart and was thrilled that she did not cringe at my serious behavior for a game that was the ruin of so many. It took passing a few races due to my rules to show her I was not a gambling addict. There was a good deal of time to talk about lots of other things until a race that captured my attention as its betting ensued.