But a candidate does not want his message go out as an advertisement. Shah- like hundreds o f stereotypical pir s he is o ne among them. No action followed since it was once again seen that the people who had kept their money were influential. Keep me logged in.
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Please join StudyMode to read the full document. Money is, no doubt, a miracle. It endows us with happiness, wipes our tears, soothes our wounds, makes our life mirthful and rosy, gives amre laughter and joy and changes our dreams to reality. Though not for all of our problems, it is a panacea for most of. In the eyes of the world a rich man is wise man.
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An Associate Professor at Indiana University, Walter Steigleman bases his statements about horse racing upon twelve years of scholarly research and an intimate acquaintance with hundreds of people who comprise the bright and shady sides of the sport. These include jockeys, owners, trainers, race track officials, racing commissioners, law enforcement officers, touts, tipsters, turf writers, handicappers and betting commissioners. He has reviewed some 4, betting systems and devised a mathematical system of his own. Money Makes the Mare Go is the first of a series of four articles which will run consecutively in Esquire. WHEN the field pounds down the stretch in the Kentucky Derby, riding in the saddle is the sixty-four-dollar question—the. Some 90, shrieking fans who call out advice to horses and jockeys have a ,dollar stake in the answer to the question of which horse will nod first to the judges.
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An Associate Professor at Indiana University, Walter Steigleman bases his statements about horse racing upon twelve years of scholarly research and an intimate acquaintance with hundreds of people who comprise the bright and shady sides of the sport. These include jockeys, owners, trainers, race track officials, racing commissioners, law enforcement officers, touts, tipsters, turf writers, handicappers and betting commissioners.
He has reviewed some 4, betting systems and devised a mathematical system of his. Money Makes the Mare Go is the first of a series of four articles which will run consecutively in Esquire. WHEN the field pounds down the stretch in the Kentucky Derby, riding in the saddle is the sixty-four-dollar question—the.
Some 90, shrieking fans who call out advice to horses and jockeys have a ,dollar stake in the answer to the question of which horse will nod first to the judges. Throughout the nation. But every w eekday the business of improving the breed gets more attention than a presidential message on the state of the union.
Unless it is Saturday or a holiday, 25, or fewer go to the individual tracks to pay their respects in person. But for every dollar wagered at the tracks, three to five dollars are bet through bookmaking establishments, although the bookie business is illegal everywhere except in good-time Nevada and in the manuals of most police forces. Taking the lowest estimate, it means that every year over 4,, dollars are bet by7 people who never see a horse except in the home-town Memorial Day7 parade.
There are two stories to this racing picture. In a minute or two, the player will be wearing a new’ suit or a barrel. Monetary1″ investment merely adds to his zest, for few spectators are as phlegmatic as the Newr York sportsman who, with 25, Although racing is a sport, it is the wagers that keep it going.
These men frankly admit that racing today has become a multi-billion dollar business. Their efforts to keep it honest are not only dictated by tender sentiment; they7 have no desire to break the machine that outlays the goose with the golden eggs.
When billions of dollars get together, there is bound to be clever talk and applications for lend-lease. How much taxable income bookmakers accumulate in a year is a mystery to everybody7, including the Internal Revenue department. A number have special parlors for women where milady may sip free cokes and munch sandwiches on the house while she tries to dope out something good on which to ride the household budget.
Records seized in a Washington, D. Others send out runners who make the rounds of offices daily to contact the regular clientele.
Some bookies maintain rooms in office buildings with such legends on their doors as Roofing Company, Egg Exchange, or if the bookie has a sense of humor, Insurance Company, or Investment and Financial Counselor.
Other bookie establishments are merely little rooms tucked in the rear of cigar stores, pool parlors or lunchrooms. No matter where a taxpayer lives in these United States, he still can exercise his privilege of making a contribution toward improving the breed if he has a nickel for a phone call or the stamina to walk a block or two downtown. For bookmaking parlors have 12, miles of leased wire which keep them in touch with every track in the United States. When the odds change at the track, they are flashed nationwide.
And wrhen the horses break from the barrier, a running description keeps the bettor informed of the progress of his investment, so that the unlucky player in a bookie parlor can tear up his slip just as fast as a man at the track makes confetti of his pari-mutuel ticket. Eight years ago, the national organization w hich had a monopoly on the distribution of race information dissolved itself in a Chicago federal court where its head was on trial for income tax evasion.
A month after, the improvement of the horse w as proceeding with old-time vigor. Stories of bookie raids again became so routine that only a few ever made the newspapers. The judge ordered the bookie to drop ten dol. In Hammond, Indiana, a three-man crewparked a locomotive on a yard siding and disappeared into a small building tw o streets from the tracks. Three hours later, they sheepishly recrossed the tracks, boarded the feebly puffing engine and shuttled off.
Down in Hammond City Hall, a police magistrate noted on his docket that three railroaders, wrho temporarily abandoned their iron horse for one of flesh and blood, had posted twrenty-five dollars on a charge of frequenting a horse-race parlor. With this notation wrent others against a score of patrons, including a seventy-one-yearold man wrho used the mrwagered portion of his monthly relief check to post bond, a Chinese w ho made laundry marks on a racing paper, and tw’o housewives who dropped in for a flyer on the bangtails before hurrying home to pay tribute to the mechanical age by opening a can or two for supper.
It was an average day. In Washington, D. A congressman caught in a bookie raid appealed his ten-dollar fine on the grounds of congressional immunity and laid his arrest to political enemies. A California radio station interrupted its noonday devotion hour to flash the latest racing results from the East. Bookies had some bad spots, too, that day. Four, including two women, were fined 6, dollars in Baltimore. And city fathers, believing the four policemen whose names w’ere found in a memorandum in the bookie office were not selling tickets to the annual benefit ball, began an inquiry.
Boston authorities, tapping the vaults of half a dozen bookies, hit the daily double by uncoveringdollars in cash. The backbone of this multi-billion dollar a year racing business is the tracks, for even the most enthusiastic players concede horses need some place to parade the results of their improvement, like graduation day in the local high school. Tw’enty-three states permit their citizens to take a monetary interest at tracks when horses display their wares, but only eighteen of them have sufficient racing days to make pari-mutuel receipts a separate item in the official budget.
There was a time when the racing season appropriately started on April 1 and ended on Thanksgiving Day. Soon after the first robin.
Through the spring and summer, meets spread over the East and Midwest until the horses returned to Bowie in late November to say au revoir.
New Orleans since has given back the thirty pieces of silver and is nowr reaping the rewards that come from a righteous devotion to a great cause. Along inFlorida made a miraculous discovery. Some good friend tipped off the tourist bureau that winter visitors were returning north with a dollar or tw’o above the bare price of their railroad tickets. Immediate steps were taken to remedy this deplorable situation. With northern capital supplying an extra dose of vitamins, Florida set out to make a belated but lasting contribution to improvement of the breed.
Hialeah Park at Miami whs converted into a fairyland track, weaving such a spell of enchantment that ordinary twro-dollar bettors awakened to find themselves in front of the fifty-dollar mutuel windows. There, early visitors tuned up for the coming gay Hialeah season and unwound again in the spring after the best horses had followed the robins north. So well has Hialeah performed its missionary work that in the forty days of the season, visitors tossed 53, dollars into the track collection plates.
So beneficial to horses are those Florida rays, that a third track has been added: Gulfstream Park. There is no excuse nowfor a w’inter visitor to return north burdened with a single dollar. A few years after Hialeah opened, a spy from California paddled his canoe through the Everglades to run down a mystery rumor. Pounding hoofs resounded in Hollywood louder than falling options as movie stars hastened to Santa Anita to learn about photo finishes and show Florida it was a land of small oranges and squirty grapefruit.
Owners and trainers, accustomed to tucking away their charges after Bowie, shook the moth balls out of the horse blankets and headed south and west. W ho started this great sport of offering the jack-pot prize to the person correctly answering the recurring sixty-four-dollar question of w’hieh horse will speak first to the judges?
The ancient Egyptians and the old Romans had plenty of opportunity to test the axiom that all horse players must die broke. The Romans, lacking in imagination, tied a chariot on behind the horse, and the way some run today they apparently have not become accustomed to their new freedom. After the horse for centuries had given his all for men, the sentimental English decided to do something for the poor beast besides giving him a pat on the nose and a lump of sugar.
Every time the bugle call of Boots and Saddles sends the horses to the post, the American player pays silent tribute to a small group. So earnestly did they take their selfappointed mission that their descendants today call American thoroughbreds half-breeds because they claim that during the Givil War the great, great granddaddies of present American racers roamed about like traveling salesmen and often took the long way home at night while returning to their stables from Red Cross dances.
Some of those twelfth-century English nobles backed up their opinions with five guineas or so to give the horses an incentive for improving. Yankee ingenuity and a Cincinnati telegraph operator put science to work more than forty years ago on that wasteful manpower problem.
Like the invention of the steam shovel which did the work of fifty men but drewr loafers to watch it huff and puff, telegrapher John Payne show’ed the nation that if only 20, or so could go to the track, 1, or more could make their contribution and still be home in time for dinner. Along came another gentleman, Frank Brunnel, who popularized racing papers w hich now have developed into a necessity for every player. For a quarter, a player can buy a racing paper the next day and hold a scientific post-mortem over the remains of his two-dollar bet.
The same paper brings hope again to the player, for it provides him with the opinions of experts as to what the horses might do that day. The only conception of a horse by a bettor today is that it is an oblong animal w’ith four legs which lives in a stable, eats oats, pulls butcher w’agons and goes to races on its day off. Only at Saratoga Springs, New York, was some of that old-time flavor retained as patrons overwhelmed the resort in August to be money makes the mare go short story at the baths and cleaned at the track.
A losing bet at Saratoga meant an opportunity for an enjoyable post-mortem with other sufferers from equine astigmatism and the harvest moon shone down benignly on winner and loser alike. Historically, of course, w’e took our first horse tip from the English.
The pounding of the hoofs on the early London course echoed several centuries later in the New World. The good people w’ere called together in February of to hear the governor proclaim that he wras authorizing a race meet.
Many a saddle and pair of boots along with gilders and guineas changed hands. Within a few’ years, racing hoofs flashed over the meadows of Virginia, the sand dunes of the Carolinas and through the streets of northern cities. One of the first money makes the mare go short story courses was laid out on the farm of Trinity Church in New York. It wras managed by an innkeeper.
There is no record of whether the minister served as judge or steward, but years later the Rev. Hardy Cryer of Tennessee put the clergymen up in front of turf leaders by purchasing half interest in Leviathan, a horse that was the Whirlaway of his day. The Rev. James Blair who helped get William and Mary College established was just as adept in horseology as he was in the classics, and some credit him with organizing the first jockey club.
As late asthe small player at New York tracks was treated by the bookies as if he used the wrong soap on his undies, and his twro dollars seldom were accepted unless he had the exact change and caught the bookie in a charitable mood. Kentucky tried to make much of its first Derby in but it wras strictly a shoe-leather and horse-and-w’agon race. While Louisville w’hooped it up, the nation remained apathetic to anything coming out of Kentucky unless it w’ere securely bottled and corked.
Average Man finally got a w’ord into the argument. Finally, Payne taught the little fellow how’ to make his contribution dui’ing his lunch hour. Now he finds himself saddled with the household budget. Enter a Search. View Article Pages. We strive to present a reader-friendly digital text version of each story. While errors in automatic conversion are inevitable, we are devoted to editing every article to make it error-free. Serial Money Makes the Mare Go.
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