The walking death of pari-mutuel racing in Tennessee, Part 6
by Frank Cotolo
Part 1 is here.
Part 2 is here.
Part 3 is here.
Part 4 is here.
Part 5 is here.
Nineteen-hundred eighty-seven was on target for Tennessee to catch up with American pop-culture trends that would alter more than a century of bowing to traditional conservative rules and political power. All due to the Racing Control Act legalizing pari-mutuel wagering on horse racing. It was looking positive; the first order of business was taken care of immediately with the forming of the Tennessee State Racing Commission. Someone with experience and knowledge concerning the industry was put in charge. We will call him Mr. Conrad; he was given full powers to follow through on the measures of the new law. A big task. A bigger one than I thought or cared to believe.
I promised Mr. Conrad I would be in touch with him the moment I flew back to Nashville from my book-pitching appointments with manager Joe and the media personality — my boss — Wolfman Jack. My expectations for the pari-mutuel law to kick in with major developing actions was as bright as getting a top-dollar publishing deal from one of the five major publishing houses so that the Wolfman and I could start work on an official biography.
Being back in New York City for the first time in a few years brought back more than a few memories about my attachment to pari-mutuel horse racing. Aside from trips to New York harness and thoroughbred tracks for live action. Making visits to any Off-Track Betting (OTB) parlor among those spread throughout the city and state were once daily since OTB took its first bet on New York State tracks in 1971. Not rain or sleet nor the challenge of New York City traffic stopped me from betting harness racing through OTB.
My urge was strong to slip away from Joe and Wolfman so I could bet triples on the Roosevelt harness racing program while I was in Manhattan. I longed for what I was denied as a resident of Tennessee. But only for now, I told myself as the publishing meetings left me with no time to bet, because Mr. Conrad was hard at work building the pari-mutuel betting climate a few states south of Manhattan.
Turned out the pitches to five major publishing houses did not result in one deal. Do not get me wrong; the publishing-house executives and their staffs were excited to see Wolfman Jack in person. They requested and got autographs and took photos with him and heard the classic voice in person. But we flew back with no commitments. Just the spray of interest that is the obvious rejecting of any project.
Back in Nashville there was plenty to do with Wolfman. I began taking Natasha with me nightly to one of two broadcast studios built inside the Opryland Hotel where I ran the evening music and news feeds during the Wolfman Jack country music shows (on tape or live) to the expanding affiliate stations across the U.S.
“You think there is still a chance for you and Wolf to get a publishing deal?” Natasha asked me one night.
“No.”
“Come on mister handicapper,” she said. “Don’t give me that. Give me odds.”
“You are right. Let us say that getting a publishing deal is 80-1. Not getting a publishing deal is 4-1.”
“Four to one would be an overlay, right?”
“Nope.”
“Oh yeah. You’d have to get 6-1.”
She was learning. That made me feel good.
Next time I saw Mr. Conrad I mentioned making an attempt to measure the odds of the pari-mutuel law coming to terms with reality based upon the success of keeping all legal gambling in the state for so long.
“Heck,” Mr Conrad said, “near every state in the union is going to offer a lottery soon and we still aren’t nowhere near that happening here.”
“What about the powers that squeezed the pari-mutuel law through? Aren’t they rich folks looking to make themselves richer investing in a popular sport?”
“Firstly, there’s no telling exactly who on the committee added the law to another bound to be passed. And you know what? We are not going to find out if it was one person or a few investors or a crazy local rep who wanted to impress his girlfriend.”
“It don’t matter because whoever did it ain’t going to admit it.”
“But it was an inside job, right?”
“Mister Frank, you work for the Opry Empire. Everything is an inside job.”
Politics. Money. Power. An historic Confederate state with deep religious roots. Perhaps knowing the identity of the legislator responsible for the pari-mutuel law caper was too dangerous to pursue?
Note: It was not until 2003 that the Tennessee Senate passed legislation to create the Tennessee Education Lottery Corporation to develop and distribute lottery games in order to generate funds for state education.
