Taking a chance—irresistible flutters on the cups

Press, Volume CXII, Issue 33037, 3 October 1972, Page 20

Taking a chance—irresistible flutters on the cups

(By the Rev

P. D. RAMSAY)

The racing classic, The New Zealand Cup, will be run and won on November 4. Unexpected fortune will go to more than the winner’s owner and those whose financial backing went through the totalisator. For the first time a Governmentapproved lottery is added to the fun. With ■ glittering $275,000 in the top four prizes, the tickets sold well, so well that a similar sweepstake is to be held on the New Zealand Trotting Cup. Our resistance to a "flutter” — from the übiquitous raffle to the highstake jackpot—is notoriously weak. The s6| million spent on Mammoth and Golden Kiwi tickets, the 19,172 approved raffles, the 19 Mystery Envelopes and the 5000 authorised venues for housie must be added to the $174,834,368 we spent betting on the horses last year. Even then we are still far from an accurate estimate of the whole chancy business.

Economics and morals apart, let us forecast the kind of human drama to be read into our history books with the introduction of the horse race sweepstake. No longer will we need to ask those childhood questions with which a generation or two plagued their parents: “Daddy, what does *We Post to Hobart’ mean?” The tobacconist and news-stall advertising will now boost local ticket sales.

Tattersalls, however, has set the scene—and the kind of stories they can tell will no doubt be repeated when our own sweepstake history is written. If there is one characteristic in the Kiwi make-up more important than another, it is the willingness to take a chance. Our readi-

ness to tilt at fortune, shared with Australians, should make this part of the gambling story predictable. We shall follow the "Tatts” pattern.

Extraordinary luck

And what is that story? A question of luck? For the statistician there is no such thing as luck. He lives by the theory of probability and sees results as demonstrable in terms of mathematical processes. In a scientific sort of way he can give answers. But these are hardly satisfying to the "lucky” gambler who plays a “hunch” or lives by superstition. Living in his world of mathematical precision, the statistician would be intrigued by the Victorian who drew two prizes in the one sweepstake — $4OOO with ticket 14619 and $7OO with ticket number 14620. What magic touch does Mrs Hilda Hosken, of Croyden, have in buying her “Tatts" tickets? Her tally is more than 140 prizes, including one of $24,000. Or Mrs. Lenna Guest, from Ballarat, who won die top prize of $20,000 for a $1 ticket twice within five months—and 35 lesser prizes in the same year. One sure thing in this uncertain game is that a few win at the loss of many. The winner’s luck is highly publicised, but the thousands of luckless heroes who make it possible go unsung and unremembered. Patient subscribing brings its own reward, as shown by the butt, “Over Fifty Years Trying,” which secured for itself a $lOO,OOO win. Mr G. Bourke, of Melbourne, spent 48 years of regular ticket buying before winning. When it came, it was top prize. Another Victorian, Mr S. A. Powell bought tickets for many years by the name of “Now.” The first time he

dchanged the butt to “Never” < I he won $20,000. 1 Dreams play their part in 1 ! the sweepstake saga. A 1 ’ Melbourne resident awoke 1 suddenly one night to inform ■

his wife, "I’ve struck Tatts.” "Desperation" and “Foolish

Hopes” were assisted by $20,000 apiece. A psychologist would probably speak of the superstitious just under the surface of most of us if Seizing a pencil, the man wrote down the startling information he had conceived in his dream and at the first opportunity bought a ticket bearing the numbers he had written down. It came as no surprise, therefore, to learn that his ticket had won first prize and returned him $24,000 for his investment. A Tasmanian, Mr H. T. McGee, had a dream with a disappointing sequel. His dream suggested strongly that he buy ticket 47111 in the Melbourne Cup sweep of 1960. He tried to buy the number, but failed. It had been allocated already. Later, to his dismay, he learned that ticket 47111 drew the winner, Hi Jinx, and returned the purchaser $120,000. The statistician has answers to these phenomena no doubt, but no amount of mathematical precision can explain the names people write on the ticket butt. Black cats, white horses, lucky rabbits, horoscope symbols, favourite stars, physical ailments, a "lucky" number, one’s birthday or initials are favourites. In Tattersall’s 876th sweepstake “Ned Kelly” took $550 quite lawfully. “Desperate” from Wellington was less so after Tatts paid $2OOO. “I am Broke” was presumably solvent after a $l5OO win. he were asked to explain sponsors’ choice of names. Coincidencse Coincidences would be another part of the study. No-one can start the New Zealand Cup sweepstake with preferences, but for what it is worth ticket 179010 won two first prizes in consecutive Tattersall’s sweeps. Another coincidence—perhaps long enough ago to be repeated—was when Kenneth C. Kelly, of Hobart, won the $20,000 prize on the eve of his son’s marriage in 1942. The buzz of excitement at the wedding was increased by the father of the bride saying that he had won “Tatts” first prize almost on the eve of his own wedding. Another part of the gambling spirit worthy of study by the experts is the varied reaction to sudden good fortune. The dry comment of the man in a Bathurst, New South Wales, gaol who received his news of a $20,000 win with, “The money is not much good to me in here” is easier to understand than the Corryong woman who commented, when her husband won the top stake, “I’m

certainly surprised—not that he won the lottery, but that he took a ticket.” An elderly bachelor said casually, when he was told he had won a five-figure sum, “That’s nice

to know” and his 80 year-old mother volunteered, “He’s a

very sensible boy. He wouldn’t let the money turn his head. Still, it will be a comfort to him when he gets on in years.” Spending the money When our “do it yourself” sweepstake gets under way there will be as many varied things done with the winnings as there are ticket buyers. They will travel, relax, retire, buy long-cherished things, or invest it in some non-risky way in order to make more money. Few will do what the man from Auburn, Melbourne, did with his 1960 Tattersalls’ Melbourne Cup win of $240,000. He gave most of it away to relatives and to worthy social causes. That is a study in itself, for the fascination with gambling is that of gain to self. A few winning at every other ticket holder’s loss is hardly the best way to establish true community. Because most of us are committed to “the flutter” it takes a bold man to say the coming sweepsake has undesirable accompaniments—and a bolder man still to say that gambling, whatever its form, is in its basic philosophy the antithesis of social advancement.