by Frank Cotolo

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 ishere.

Part 3 is here.

The laws of probability were not included in the mathematics Ralph Cotolo learned in order to become a plumber. He knew only the basics for hands-on trade work which was just enough to be competent. He choked when I tried to teach him enough math to understand pari-mutuels. He could not grasp the method. Perhaps because it lacked the physical elements ruled by widths and lengths and inches and feet, somewhat, but mostly because he never learned the values of percentages and certainly not how one applies them to all games of chance.

Sun Tzu was still my mentor in this battle but he offered nothing when it came to making my dad understand the accomplishment choosing three correct winners in a row at random from three number sets with eight choices each. Nor the improbability of such a streak continuing.

The mind boggles, right?

Prepare for mega-mind-boggling.

Ralph’s luck was in play during the days before pari-mutuels offered any multi-race exotics beyond the Daily Double. Imagine in modern times constructing a Pick-3 wager using three singles. Or a Pick-4 using four singles or a Pick-5 using five singles or a Pick-6 using six singles. Take a breath. Any bettor would agree the concept was never an option.

Once these gimmick bets were created and grew in popularity it became common practice to build all multi-race exotic tickets by including multiple entries per race. Sometimes even using all entries in some race legs. Was there anyone in recorded history betting into these pari-mutuel pools playing — no less winning — a multi-race exotic with a ticket consisting of all singles? It is safe to say no.

But although it is moot in my dad’s case you must consider if such wagers were available and he played each using his winning selections he would have hit four multi-race exotics by the time he finished betting on that afternoon’s Belmont program. Because after his third-straight win he hit his fourth-straight.

Then his fifth.

And then his sixth. The hard way. With one-to-two-digit win prices.

I wanted to dig up Sun Tzu’s remains and dance with them over one of his winning battlegrounds. And I wanted to lift my dad’s bulky body from his grandstand seat and jump up and down with him until we were breathless.

After moments of successful betting, it was Andy Beyer who famously declared himself “king of the world.” But on that day in one of the world’s historic thoroughbred racetracks and regardless of what magical chances conspired to produce his sterling performances there was only one king of this and any other world when it came to betting pari-mutuels – Ralph Cotolo.

I was happy beyond cashing a Pick-anything ticket and most joyful for not allowing my victory to ignite a twinge of revenge. There was never the urge for me to say, “I told you so,” or “See how unfair you were about me gambling on horses,” or any other acerbic rebound. I was happy for my dad; a man with the least amount of fun and lively afternoons to his years as any a suppressed soul.

As for me…

I was also elated that I showed him I was not paving a path of perverse gambling habits which he believed promised a derelict future for myself.

The story does not end there.

Topping off my victory was an unexpected result. I had no intention of turning Ralph into a horse racing fan but thanks to luck — and not Sun Tzu — he was open to go to the races again. With me.

On the ride home that day he did not complain once about the rush-hour traffic we crawled through or his current unemployed status or my mother or his never-ending diet. He was a delightful passenger. He even showed signs of being a smart money manager.

“I got some money now to get a tire or two for the car,” he said. “And I’ll give your mother some to put away.”

And this and that. He was a chatterbox; a characteristic he never exposed to me before. I told him again how lucky he was winning races as he did.

“I know. You think I don’t know?” he said. “I see how you sit in the dining room and read that racing paper. I never saw you study school work like that.”

“I’m still learning about the races myself, dad. And I’m doing all right in college.”

“When are we going back to Belmont?”

“Soon. Look at this traffic. We’re moving so slow.”

“Hey, at least we’re moving.”