Del Mar: luck with silver linings and caballos de carreras in the afternoon, Part 2
by Frank Cotolo
Part 1 is here.
Nowhere in my library of popular or underground horse racing academics is Biff Warden or his book Power Plays mentioned. The question raised by myself and my Del Mar thoroughbred gambling partner Rick Silver was: “Is it possible there exists a person under any given or made-up name who has discovered the fantastic how-to-beat-the-races method?”
Warden’s chapbook was self-published and as hard to find anywhere as was its author’s profile. I asked many of the prominent and successful authors and professional pari-mutuel players if they ever heard of Warden. Every one of them shrugged and laughed when I told them Warden created a handicapping method for thoroughbred racing, one that works.
“And I have two wishes left from a leprechaun I caught under a bridge in Ireland,” said one.
Another said, “By the way, Frank, I have a unique offer for you to invest in some oil-rich land in Oklahoma.”
“Just asking,” I said.
I then recalled the old and wise horse racing handicapper I mentioned in this series who said, “Most any winning system could work only for a spell before it collapsed and then it remained a mystery how it ever produced success.” As well, I remembered this: “There is no such thing as good or bad luck. There is only luck and the lack of it.”
The 1988 Del Mar thoroughbred meet and the unexplained brilliance of Warden’s Power Plays method kicked in when we applied his calculation-based method to races that included random race entries shipping in from the Mexican racetrack Agua Caliente. Once we made ourselves aware of the fact that there was a generous stream of these immigrant runners entered here and there (mostly in sprints) on the programs we were, as they say, off to the races.
No Aqua Caliente entries recorded impressive numbers. Except for their speed. The Mexican track was a slick haven for sprinters. Winning or losing they all ran competitively with fiery fractions, no matter the weather. These were no blue-blooded specimens of the equine species. These were overnighters. Pedestrian-breds (and some looked like mules). For everyday bettors at Del Mar these ‘caballos de carreras’ (racehorses) were to be ignored in competition with the superior California-breds handled by world-wide successful trainers. The average Del Mar bettor drew thick lines through their names and stats on the racing programs.
For Rick and I they were ‘deliverers of dollars.’ We set up our parameters defining the system and determining or limiting its performances. This left us available to handicap and wager on other races using our home-grown talents.
“We are on a binge,” I told Natasha. “For these special race figures Rick and I found we are wagering with immoderate indulgence.”
“And you are winning? Is that it?” she said.
“Profits are up. Way up.”
“You still do all the percentage-odds work?”
“Only for races that do not include the Mexican shippers. And we are doing all right with the few of those races we play.”
Indeed. Hitting a decent exacta (sometimes the crowd-favoring combination) produced handsome double-digit payoffs considering Del Mar’s exacta base price was five dollars.
Sometimes Natasha and Rick and I went to breakfast at a local restaurant before post time. Then Rick would go to the track early and work on some Power Plays figures while Natasha and I went to a local Italian pastry shop to load up on classy expensive snacks for the length of the race program.
Of course, not every shipper won (many were second and third but we only played to win considering our data was based on horses winning). But every shipper had a strong ‘Biff’ score and the greatest number of them fit our “5-2 and up bet” standard.
One night after the races Natasha and I were drinking beer on my bare, but beautiful, living room space in Leucadia and she said, “Are there Mexican harness racehorses?”
“Nope. This playing ends with the thoroughbreds.”
It made me wonder about my gambling profession at the ending of the Del Mar meet. There would be simulcasting from Santa Anita and Hollywood Park and the bullrings’ racing on the fair circuit but no more Power Plays that worked. Every attempt we made to use them on races void of the magic Mexican sprinters was miserable (fortunately we only proved that without betting). The particulars we used for serious success would disappear.
“Magic comes and goes,” Natasha said.
She was as right as the old and wise gambler who told me about the luck that is magic. We took advantage of the Power Plays numbers and the strange character known as Biff Warden. The sane reality was that it would never happen again because, “Most any winning system could work only for a spell before it collapsed and then it remained a mystery how it ever produced success.”
