FOR THE DERBY

Evening Post, Volume CXVIII, Issue 49, 27 August 1934, Page 7

FOR THE DERBY

MAKING A FAVOURITE

AUCTION OF BOOKMAKERS

It is extraordinary what you can fail to notice if you arc not looking for it, ■writes Charles Graves in the "Sunday Graphic." Foj. three years twoor three times a week I liavo taken a taxi off a rank in Wellington Street, Strand, without realising that the reason for tho rank was tho elderly Victorian stone building opposite it. This, which looks like a.bank, is tho Victoria Club, an institution, which figures in the newspapers for some days before every big iace.

For it is in the large, rather dingy billiard-room, that the card is called and the vast bulk of .ante-post betting is stabilised before the running of tho twenty leading horse races of the year. Throughout the flat racing season \ horses are backed to win at least four hundred thousand pounds each week.. The primary object of tho club is to enable bookmakers to settle their vast accounts between themselves on Mondays, and to start a market for the big races. At tho call-over tho layers naturally become backers as well. The result is that in tho past quarter of a century literally millions of pounds havo been wagered in this beige-col-oured room with its bar at one end, its green baizb table nearby whero members lunch hurriedly, its faded pictures, and its one largo billiard table. So great is the amount of betting— or, shall we say, investing —that when some'years ago a certain horse'in tho Lincolnshire Handicap was backed to win a hundred and ten thousand pounds, it nevertheless started at twenty to one. But how is the market made, and what happens when the card is called? For a big race like the Derby, two or three hundred of the five hundred members crowd into the billiard-room. Sir. Art Casini then "calls" the card. Art Casini, who looks like a stockbroker, wears horn-rimmed spectacles, and has a quiet, conversational voice. LIKE AN AUCTIONEER. At tho appointed hour (12.30) he stands up at the. far end of the room and calls out the name of the horse which he presumes is going to bo. tha favourite, just as though ho were sin. auctioneer. This is how it goes. "What offers can anyone make for Colombo?" A voice calls out "Seven hundred to four." (Four means four hundred.) This is followed by another voice, "I'll lay three and a half to two," and in a few moments Art Casini has eighteen hundred pounds to eight hundred pounds on offer "Is there-any better offer?" he inquires. "I'll lay two hundred to : one." "I'll lay two hundred to one." "I'll lay two hundred to one." Suddenly somebody calls out, "I'll take all three bets." A lull ensues. Then another bookmaker shouts, "I'll lay; seven and a half to four." A few more offers come along eventually. Art Casini himself docs business on his own account and says, "I'll take two hundred to one hundred." There is.then another lull. Art Casini then bangs his hammer, the best offer being seven to four, which no one will take. Then Umidwar is called. There are'shouts of "Seven hundred to one," "Fifteen hundred to two," "Seven and a half to one," "I'll take a thousand to a hundred-and-twenty." "I'll lay it to you," Every* body jumps in with offers and acceptances. It is noticeable that all the bets go through Art Casini. The rule is that no bookmaker may deny any offer he makes unless he withdraws it before it has been taken up. Tho reason for this is that someone might want to back a horse, aud, in order to get a good price, might offer a big bet against it with the intention of pretending that, this bet has already been accepted if a genuine layer is prepared to take it. In consequence, each bet is allocated; in fact, confirmed by Art Casini, so that there is no possibility of bluff offers made to get a good price. In the ordinary course of events only; offers for wins are made at the Victoria Club, though on the final night beforo a big race like tho Derby, both wins and places are, so to speak, auctioned in this manner. Another demonstration of the amount of money wagered at the Victoria Club i is provided by the scene the other dayj when a famous bookmaker said: "IMIj 'lay ten thousand to eight Colombo. Hardly were the words out of his mouth when one bookmaker called out: "I'll take seven" (seven thousand), and another shouted: "I'll have I tho rest." Sometimes the calling of; the-card will last 'more than an hour.The minimum wager is ten pounds by a backer to win himself, let us say, on» hundred. ODD RESULTS. Sometimes there are odd results from the laying of heavy odds against complete outsiders. Miss Dorothy Pagot's horse Tuppence is a famous case in point. He started, very properly, at two hundred to one against. Then some imp induced tho public to back it on tho day of the race at this price, which had been duly printed in the morning papers. Miracles frequently happen in racing, and so the bookmakers had to rush madly about tocover any possible losses. The result was that on the day of the Derby Tuppence had tumbled in price to three or four to win. It was still just as certain to lose as before, but tho bookmakers had to protect themselves. Except for freak occasions when tho public suddenly decide to back somo horse because of its silly name, 95 petcent, of the prices reigning beforo the off are the result of betting transactions at the Victoria Club. Upstairs there is a similarly shaped room with eight card tables, pale green, walls, mahogany chairs, glass mirrors, and two telephone boxes, which is almost as exciting as the dingy billiardroom. This is the room where the settling takes place. It is an extraordinary sight on Mondays from 11 o'clock to see bookmakers coming in with wallets bulging with thousands of pounds worth of notes. Others settle by cheque, and it naturally happens that ono cheque may pass through half a dozen different hands when one bookmaker owes another who owes another who owes another, and so on in a vicious circle back to the original bookmaker. ;