One of the things I like about horse racing is that it brings different people together. Those relationships can develop into longstanding friendships which actually add to life. There are a number of people I know who I can guarantee we wouldn’t have met or become friends if it weren’t for our passion for the Sport of Kings. Perhaps some of those friendships could be attributed to a pure love of gambling. I would say that about them rather than me, as I am more disciplined and my foundation is built on knowledge.

Eric is a man of knowledge too.

As I always say: “Knowledge comes before money!”

I must have met Eric 35 years ago. It was at the local bookmakers, Ladbrokes on Broad Street. I won’t mention the town in case he’d rather not be known as the man about town. However, he was certainly that in his younger years. As time has passed and age catches up with us all, he isn’t quite as sprightly as he once was.

I guess when we first met we must have been in our late teens. I say ‘we’ because my twin brother and I always come as a bit of a double act. Definitely no Cannon & Ball. While Eric was more of a Morecambe, but still wise. He used to be very sporty and loved his football, and you could tell by his physique.

I’m sure the first time I met Eric it must have been in Ladbrokes. In those days, back in the 1980s, betting shops were very much a social gathering for degenerates. I say that with a smile as I am sure Eric would have called most of the punters much worse. In truth, it was a melting pot of every kind of person. Each loved a bet. Some would be interested in horse racing, others greyhounds, and one or two coming and going quickly, placing a bet and disappearing back into town. They may have been interested in escaping the nicotine cloud that seemed ever present. Half an hour in there and anyone with a sense of smell thought you were a heavy smoker.

The windows were covered as part of the gambling regulations. The door may be open in the summer but they’d have one of those ribbon things which fluttered in the wind. I think they were used to keep the flies out and the punters in. I’d often see someone stop in their tracks, ribbons tangled around their neck.

Eric is probably the most sarcastic person I have ever met. He would be pleased to hear those words and wear them proudly like a badge. If he thought he could get the better of you, when it came to gambling, he would make your life a misery. It was all done in humour, but he would latch onto your weakest link and forever fire sarcastic remarks as if he had a machine gun. Unrelenting. To be fair, people must have half hated him. But he wasn’t so blatant that he would just go full throttle. He was high-brow sarcastic. In the sense that he would be kind of cryptic about the insult or put-down so it would go over someone’s head, but one or two in the crowd would understand it and be laughing at their expense.

I’m making Eric out to be the pantomime villain. If so, it would be one of those crude adult versions like Pissed-Up Panto: Jack And The Beanstalk. Or if he was a woman: Cinderella and the Two Ugly S!@S.

Eric must have seen my brother and me enter the bookies for the first time and said to himself: ‘I’ve got a couple of victims here!’

We have always known a lot about our niche of horse racing and as teenagers made most seasoned gamblers look pretty stupid in their lack of knowledge compared to our encyclopedic minds. Most punters have the memory span of a goldfish. They don’t even remember the name of the horse trainer, let alone much else.

Eric must have respected something we said in those early days. When it came to two-year-old horse racing, he would be on a loser trying to undermine our knowledge. To be fair, even to this day, I always say to people: ‘I have nothing to prove to anyone.’

I don’t need to, as I know more than anyone I have ever met when it comes to two-year-old horse racing. In fact, I often say to people: ‘There isn’t a question I cannot answer when it comes to our niche. That may sound big-headed, but it’s not meant to be. I would love someone to have a strong opinion or a question which makes me consider. To get away from the clichés and find originality. It’s a rare concept in the racing world. I have spent a lifetime thinking about questions and answers. Those answers lead to more questions. I don’t know everything and believe we can learn from everyone. Often the most naive people have the best questions. They often listen to the answers, too.

Anyway, some three-plus decades later we still meet with Eric to chat about racing, gambling, a list of ailments, and a cup of coffee and tea.

A couple of hours every month or so.

Eric is one of those people you will never forget. A chatterbox. But someone who loves to talk about every method you could imagine to make your betting pay. He is a systems man. A football and horse racing fanatic. Whether backing or laying, he just loves to get stuck into his data.

In fact, there is only one thing he loves more than gambling and that’s some poor unfortunate gambler who is a little wet behind the ears.

He’ll soon thicken their skin.

That’s if they realize his higher level of sarcasm.

Most successful people have a high level of expertise. True, some may get lucky but that moment of serendipity won’t last long. In fact, believe it or not, you need to turn your working process from something complex to very simple else you are doomed.

If you don’t understand why you will when you start gambling.

It’s something like The Dummies Guide to Professional Gambling. I don’t think that book exists but it should for all those budding gamblers who have ambitions of making their betting pay.

You may ask: ‘Why do I need everything to be simple?’

Because the more complex something is, the more likely you will make mistakes. Not only do mistakes drive you to distraction but they cost you money. All working practices or processes need to be well thought out and refined so they run smoothly. They are built on understanding and work on positives.

You can either have an approach which works on positives or negatives. It’s obvious which of those two you are aiming for.

For example, every aspect of gambling needs an answer to a question. This takes a lot of time and experience. It isn’t something that comes easily. It’s usually a product of mistakes and money lost. That motivates you (or should do) to find the answer to a particular question. Not just any old answer, but the best answer.

When you look at a business which functions to a very high level you will notice every single part has been considered. It has simplified the complex to be worked in a standardised, simplistic, fashion. This helps every individual know what is expected and how the job is to be carried out. It’s a like a sales call which follows a script. The script has been refined to the point it closes sales. It works to a very high level because there has been time, energy and lots of money to make it profitable.

Successful gambling is very much the same. If you have a well oiled process, you don’t wake up each day and do something different. You have created the best answers to the most difficult questions. You keep them and use them until you have a better solution. This may come one day but if you are making money you may well be pleased with your lot. Push too hard and you may destroy what you nurtured.

There is no way you can be a professional gambler without making the complex routinely simplistic. With each race, the clock is ticking down. If you are searching for the best answer to the question seconds before the off you have lost. I can guarantee you will make a knee jerk reaction (it will be based on emotions) and it’s the wrong decision.

This is why to succeed as a professional gambler it is more complex than many may imagine.

It is a routine. It’s a method and process which you follow with discipline even when you feel you should do something different based on your emotions. You have to hold your nerve and stare loss in the face. You have to hold firm on what you know is the answer to the question. It has been learned by trial and error, winners and losers, time and effort, and endless frustration.

If you divert from the process you have no answer.

That option should terrify you.

Simplicity equals profit. Complexity leads to mistakes.

Today, I had a bet on a horse. What I would call a pre-emptive gamble. I bet and I hope the horse is backed to shorter odds. I have no way of knowing whether this horse will be backed or not. If it is, then I have the potential to make good money. If not, I may well have to lay the bet to lose part of my stake. But what is the best answer to this question? What should I do to give myself the best chance of winning? That is winning long term. One result doesn’t mean much on the grand scale of a season. But still, there is a best answer to the question.

Here is the answer to the question: ‘I have to wait until the horses are going behind the stalls and then make the decision to keep the bet or not.’

This may seem something and nothing. However, the process doesn’t work like that at all. I have to stick to the process whatever the betting looks like. Whether the odds are shorter or longer. The answer to the question is carved in stone. It is the best answer to the question and it cannot be changed whatever the situation or scenario. It’s the equivalent to seeing a red flashing button and someone saying: ‘Don’t press that button!’

If you press it, you have lost.

Why have you lost?

Because it is part of the process.

If you don’t have the discipline to follow the process, you have lost.

I guess we all have a story to tell when it comes to betting.

Over the years, I’ve had personal experiences of winning and losing big bets. Many of these stories come from betting online, at the track in bookmaker’s shops. However, the following bets were placed online. Moments of great joy and conflicting disappointment.

My Learned Friend

Considering most of my betting is done online I could pick umpteen moments featuring both highs and lows. I’ve had a few decent wins. One that sticks in the mind is a while back, a horse called My Learned Friend, trained by Andrew Balding. The horse won in a photo-finish beating a previous winner who had to carry a win penalty. John Gosden mentioned that his, second, was unlucky and thought the win penalties were unfair. Speaking from my pocket I was very happy the burden of the penalty hindered the runner-up as it won me £1,600. I bought an Omega watch (1970s style) as a memento.

One Lay Bet Too Many

The worst lay bet of my life could have won me £20. The loss much greater. To be fair, I had been flying along and laid so many horses to lose I £4,000 in profit from an initial betting bank of £20. It was truly incredible. I laid well over 100 losers on the trot. However, most of the horses were priced 10/1+. Some were priced 200/1 on the betting exchanges. I generally laid horses at odds of 100/1 and less.

There is something very unnerving about laying a horse to lose £2,000. Obviously, there is good reason to lay the horse.

However, anything can happen when betting.

Horses can defy the odds. If the favourite disappoints, then I’m one step closer to losing. If the second and third favourite under perform I’m looking at the horse I laid to lose like a hawk. I’m hoping and preying the horse is struggling. When it is not, I start to worry. I’ve had horses at giant odds run well and finish fourth or fifth. I’ve had others finish second, pressing hard. When two horses are astride you fear the lay bet will take advantage. If it does you desperately hope the chasing horse responds.

It’s not all bad.

When you’re four grand in front you can suffer a loss. You don’t want it but you can afford. You definitely don’t need it. But it happens. If you bet long enough you realise anything can happen.

And one day it did happen.

I’d been to my aunts funeral. I should have taken that as a bad sign. However, I thought I could win an easy £20 laying a horse at 36/1 for a potential loss of £720. I was confident I had the odds in my favour. However, this debutante travelled ominously well. When I see the favourite struggling I had a bad feeling. The horse I’d laid cruised up and shot clear of the field. I never felt I had a hope of fighting back. It was over. I watched the horse win easily costing £720. To be fair, losing that amount of money wasn’t good news. But you win some you lose some. You should always expect a bad day even though you don’t want it because you have to brace yourself for disappointment. I was still winning £4,000 so the profits were astounding. But I didn’t enjoy the feeling and stress levels of laying a horse to lose hundreds if not thousands. It felt more natural to bet on horses to win. I’ve often wondered where I would be if I had continued laying big priced horses. When I see one or two win I am pretty sure that would have cost me. But what about all the wins too. We will simply never know. Although I can guarantee I’d have never laid more than my betting bank so it wouldn’t have cost me a penny.

A Terrible Day

One of the best and worst days of my betting life. It should have been so different. How many times have you heard that before? However, I do feel aggrieved. I’m not sure what is the opposite of Lady Luck but she must be some vicious old witch who spits in your tea when you’re not looking. Cinderella and the two ugly S@*gs. This evil beast pulled my pants down and stole my money. Yes, you can tell I’m still suffering from that day as it really was a life-changing moment. I had a bet to win £10,000. Worse still, my bet looked like a certainty. I know you are saying: ‘Yes, of course it did. Keep telling yourself that!’ However, if you watched the race you would feel pretty much the same. I had little to nothing to lose. My bet to win £10,000 cost £45. The price on Betfair – 300/1.

Entering the final furlong my horse ran on well and got to the lead. I was ready to see it go clear but noticed the jockey sitting very still. For the life of me I couldn’t understand what he was doing. It was like he daren’t move. It made no sense. But then it did make sense. I see him lean slightly to one side and the next thing he was on the floor. The saddle had slipped with less than 100 metres to go. Honestly, I felt sick. I couldn’t believe how such a thing had happened. Not on the Flat. It can happen but usually on the National Hunt. It happened. That was the final result. What a kick in the stomach. What could have been. I had laid £400 in running at even money. A small consolation prize but something. That’s how close I come to winning a five-figure sum for pennies. A stride or two more I would have won £10,000.

My brother had a fiver to win a couple of grand.

What can you say?

That’s racing.