Money management makes the pari-mutuel world go ’round, Part 1

by Frank Cotolo

“He’s the greatest handicapper I ever saw,” said someone we will call Jimmy; a diehard horseplayer from the “old school” of American horse racing punters. Jimmy was like most of the old-school ilk in the 1950s, By that I mean he was full of betting tropes; methods of gambling that were popular but would never turn over a jury of professional players.

Jimmy’s sterling endorsement of someone we will call Dexter was based on envy and nothing to do with the particulars that satisfied it. Jimmy admired Dexter without understanding the details involved in Dexter’s skills for managing a betting bankroll in a way that enforced his handicapping to points of profit.

“Dexter’s picks nearly always wind up in the money,” Jimmy said. “You should see his Racing Form. It’s got marks all over it. Figures and notes about past-performances that aren’t even mentioned in the lines. I think he plays every race and Doubles and Exactas. Never breaks a sweat.”

“He works with a big bankroll,” I said to Jimmy. And he knows how to use it to his advantage.

“But it doesn’t matter how much you got to bet if you don’t know how to find good winners. You got to know how to handicap as good as Dexter does.”

Jimmy’s bankroll was always in his pants’ pockets and he refused to accept the fact that Dexter was better at wagering than he was at handicapping. Or that Dexter passed more races than he played and never bet more or less than necessary to toss a profit at the end of a betting campaign. Jimmy did not even understand the concept of a betting campaign; nor did he understand the importance of not wagering on races based on elements of math and a commitment to its role in being a success betting the horses.

Barry Meadow — arguably one of the brightest professional pari-mutuel players in modern times — wrote, “I often hear handicappers say, ‘I’m not a math guy,’ but the problem is that horse-racing gambling is a math game. If you’re not a math guy, you are probably not a winner, either.”

Money management is a strict boss of any good gambler. Like Dexter. The Dexter character deserves praise for his pari-mutuel success and the strengths that attract his admiration; but more for being taught and applying the math that makes gambling profitable — even in the face of extenuating circumstances beyond the control of anyone. Meaning: luck. But that is another element to understand in another essay. This area of pari-mutuel participation — how managing a betting bankroll is essential and yet dismissed by generations of players like Jimmy — is the addendum to handicapping like a pro.

The question is this: why play like a pro?

“Professional: engaged in a specific activity as one’s main paid occupation rather than a pastime. Competent. Skillful. Assured.”

Using professional tools and methods does not require a person to make any activity one’s main paid occupation. And believe me from my personal pari-mutuel adventures: if you can adapt to modest math and methods imperative to a professional gambler then you are not required to make gambling a full-time job. And more so than being a part-time amusement, the benefits should outweigh the downside if you win or lose. And I feel you will win in many more ways than what cash you earn.

The information in this and the following articles on this topic are not rules as much as they are resolves; learning to build traits to become resolute with firmness of purpose. Do not worry about being better at math or dumbing down if you are naturally endowed; most likely you learned all you need to know in junior high school.

The most difficult parts of all the changes concern themselves with behavior. Most pari-mutuel players attempting to turn money into more money by betting on animals running in circles are searching for dopamine-like experiences that satisfy the ego more than the financial rewards. The romance of backing winners and being paid for the decisions that make it possible is as powerful as the deep holes one falls into when opposite results define being a loser with tragic depression.

Through the years of wagering, I heard of and tried a score of betting systems passed through the grandstands and clubhouses of racetracks on both sides of the Atlantic and in texts by so-called experts and sharp scammers and not one of them proved moderately consistent. Nor did any of them make me feel I performed the best possible way to achieve success.

Things changed.