When standing among the short odd punters on the terraces of Clonmel you hear the bet 12 thousand to eight fly over shoulder to the layers in front of you. These bets are normally flying from Harry Findlay's section of the stand where he battles with the bookmakers each February. He has already won the Derby and Oaks in previous years and reduced the layers to tears. I was kindly forwarded the below article about the living legend which is a great read. You have to admire such bold punting and a dedication to the cause. If only we could all earn a living from watching and making calls on sport I'm sure we would all be happier bar the Bookmakers.
So enter the lair of professional gambler Harry Findlay, well known in racing circles as the owner of Cheltenham fancies Desert Quest and Denman. "Sorry," he said, flapping his hand, "it's a semi-kennel in here. Big Fella is a legend, but he stinks."
Big Fella is a large, torpid greyhound lying at his master's feet. But he won the Derby in 1999 and, aromatically-challenged as he is, Findlay owes him and loves him. So they are ensconced together in a room at the side of Findlay's lovely house near Bath that he shares with his wife and two daughters, watching six television screens that are showing tennis and racing simultaneously. "Go on Feddy, my son," yells Findlay to a screen featuring Roger Federer, the player on whom our gambler won £300,000 at the US Open in 2005, having staked £400,000. "And I had another £100,000 on him when Agassi broke him to go 4-2 up in the third set of the final because the crowd over-stepped the mark. I could see what that did to Fed. It's the first time I've seen him angry. He just absolutely tore Agassi's head off after that." Federer won 6-3, 2-6, 7-6, 6-1 and Findlay won another round of his battle to stay alive and solvent.
Note, Findlay backed Federer odds-on. That means laying a stake greater than your expected winnings, in case you are new to this lark. Many people think this is a silly way to proceed. They think it is a great risk for a little return. But not Findlay.
"It's the biggest myth in racing! It's the biggest myth in life!" he yells vehemently. "That is my golden rule. Do not be afraid to back odds-on. It's a myth perpetrated by bookmakers and ignorant punters. Cowards! When people say they never bet odds-on what they're really saying is they can't count or they're a coward. They're afraid of the risk factor.
These football managers that bet £20 million a year are not a surprise to me. I lay out literally millions every weekend. I'm not trying to be flash. That's just the way it is. There's no point in me betting small. It's all about knowing the right price and how good you are at staking.
"I have to win to eat. It's all I do. Like everyone else, I don't back loads of winners. I just back a few more winners than losers. No one makes a good living out of betting in hundreds. You aren't going to win big betting small."
One suspects Findlay, 45 (or 44, he can't remember), does nothing small. Not talking, living, eating, betting. He is a large man with a marvellously colourful vocabulary and a steady outpouring of top-volume advice. It all began at 15 when he started playing poker dice at school.
Why? "Because it was better than f****** biology," he said with a guffaw of laughter. "I've never had a proper job since." He paused to shout: "Go on Feddy, wind it up, son" and waved one of nine remote controls on his desk at the screen. It didn't work. He tried another one. That didn't either. "I don't know anything about electronics," he explained. Mobiles are ringing. "Hallo," he says sharply into them (no time for formalities). In an instant, he stakes the price of my mortgage on a tennis match.
At various points in his life, it has all gone horribly wrong.
"Don't mention Martina Hingis to me," he cried. "Ruined my life when she lost to Iva Majoli in the French Open final. Wiped me off the face of the earth. Three or four times I've been all-in. Milk Cup. I remember that. Me and my mum borrowed 1,200 quid – which was a lot of money 20 years ago – to put on Watford to beat Everton in the cup because we knew Everton would play a reserve side. We had £650 on the draw and £550 on Watford to win. We were both at the game to watch. Watford were 1-0 up in the 89th minute and Everton won 2-1. As my mum opened the car door afterwards, she said: 'What are we going to do now, son?' We were penniless. That's what it was like in the old days.
"There wasn't the instant information around either. You had to try and find out the news. Like the toss at cricket matches. That was vital because it was a massive advantage to bat second when there was rain about. I was down at Portsmouth for a Hampshire v Worcester match. We had a couple of grand to lump on Worcester to win at 2-1 on. But we had to know Worcester had won the toss before we'd risk it because that was our last two grand in the world. So the captains, Phil Neale and Mark Nicholas, have come out to the crease to toss up and I've actually gone out to the crease with them because by the time it was announced it would be too late to get a bet on.
"Nicholas tossed up and Neale called wrong. I've seen it before anyone else. They're both behind me because I've got there first. I've shouted out: 'Oh f*** it!' and Mark Nicholas turned to me and said: 'Who the effing hell are you?' I said: 'Don't worry about it mate' and went back to bed. I'm telling you this because those are the sort of lengths you'd have to go to in the old days."
We are deep into lovable rogue territory here. He may own several racehorses with Paul Nicholls and Philip Hobbs, but he is hardly your land-owning gentry nor your Russian oligarch for that matter. He is sitting here in blue slippers, jeans and a stripy green polo shirt going bonkers at the screens upon which Tony McCoy is riding Yaboya (10-11 favourite) in the 2.10 at Market Rasen.
"I've got so much on this horse – more than I wanted – that's talking to you. I want this one to win. Go on, Tony! This is a man I f****** love. Put him up with the Federers. Put him up with the Tiger Woodses. He's a legend. He's the strongest man, pound for pound, I've ever met in my life. Scarily strong.
"Oh god, there's Pretty Star! Oh, don't let mine get beat. Oh, that will kill me! Go on the King. GO ON TONY. One more time. Oh, I've lumped on this! Just JUMP IT! Pheww. Thank God." The phones ring. Blood pressure lowers. Normal service is resumed. The computer screen attuned to Betfair prices is blinking merrily next to him. He prefers the exchanges to bookmakers any day.
"The bottom line is, bookmakers don't allow anyone to win. If you win they'll close your account. If you win big in cash, they won't take your bet. It's immoral, but there's no point in prolonging that argument and upsetting the bookmakers because they can't stand me anyway. I stopped betting on horses completely until the exchanges, where you bet punter against punter. It is physically impossible for anyone to make big money on the horses if they are not playing the exchanges. Anyone telling you they can is a liar. It's a myth.
"I was a bookmaker for one week when I was 18. I couldn't do it. A bloke called John, used to work in a factory all day, a mill, came in to bet £20 on a dog. He had sawdust up his nose, in his ears, on his head. He made chairs for nine hours every day. I ended up wanting the dog to win. I lasted one week. I've always been a punter, always will.
"It's all about where you find your buzz. It's all about adrenalin and controlling it. It's done me many times, made me so skint. It's taken my freedom and, even worse at times, my self-respect. But I love it. I love what I do.
"I'm very anti-religious. I'm an atheist. So the way I see it, it's an innings, innit? You've got to crack away. I want to play like Kevin Pietersen, not Chris Tavare. Totally mystifies me, religion. When I was 12, I was 100 per cent sure the three kings were con men, and they were grafting with an astronomer. It's obviously a get-up, isn't it? I think it's total madness. And pensions!"
Don't get him started on pensions. No part of him approves of putting money away on the off-chance you might see it with knobs on at the age of 65. "I mean, you've got to live to be 65 anyway, and that's only an 8-13 chance.
"I think it's mental that so many normal people have so much respect for people with bigger houses and bigger cars. They see that as a form of success. My respect goes to people like nurses, teachers and doctors. I think 90 per cent of people with loads of money are either crooks or working too hard." Phones ring again. "It doesn't stop. It's madness," said Findlay.
"Hallo." He dealt swiftly with the matter in hand. He resumed his theorising. "You see, the thing with Federer is he's a cash machine. He's virtually unplayable. They say he might one day be the greatest player of all time. WHAT? If Federer ain't the greatest player ever, I'll put my desk up my…Hallo," he said, grabbing his mobile again.
There are more golden rules. "Winning's amazing. But you start to feel invincible. As soon as you let your guard down in this game, or take any liberties, your head is sawn straight off. It's all about maths and you have to be right all the time. By the same token, when you can't back a winner, when you think you're completely useless, you have to keep your equilibrium. I know all the pitfalls. I've got my weaknesses. I know I like a front-runner too much.
"But you need to be aggressive, be bold when you're winning. Don't start hedging and saving. When you win you need to win big, because when you lose you do your b*******.
"Listen, bookmakers' credit, debt, causes turmoil and ruins people's lives. It done me as a teenager. Credit is vile. The way bookmakers operate credit should be outlawed. It opens doors to everything: trouble, lies, prison, where else do you want to go?
"I think there will be a 1,000-fold increase in people going to prison for gambling debts. I think we're already seeing it and women are more vulnerable than men. They've suddenly got the adrenalin of gambling but it's not the healthy little tutti-frutti world that the TV presenters talk about."
Nevertheless, we are not leaving until he makes our fortune. His own Desert Quest is a non-runner at Ascot today because of the rain. He is not unhappy about this. "It means I can stay at home and lump on to the Aussies to beat Great Britain in the rugby league and Federer, who's an absolute certainty to win the Singapore Masters. And don't pay your mortgage for a year. Just put it on New Zealand to win the next Rugby World Cup. If they lose it this time, I will absolutely go down a coalmine."
Comical " Robbie " Raffles our former racer has finally got the all clear from the vet. After suffering an almost fatal accident in the New Forest whilst on holiday he has been nursed back to health by his loyal owners.
