I’ve met many people through blogging.

My horse racing interest has spread across a number of websites related to horse trainers to in depth analysis about two-year-old horse racing.

That’s how I met Lowestoft pro gambler Jerry Banks.

Jerry started writing about his horse racing interests on the Blogger platform. I guess compared to the likes of WordPress it’s seen as a poor relationship. But it was a place many true horse racing bloggers started. They followed their passion rather than thinking about pound signs via affiliate links or running ads. In fact, there used to be a lot of horse racing fans on this platform from across the world. Little by little they disappeared. Most bloggers don’t last more than a couple of years. However, Jerry started back in 2010, almost 14-years ago. He has always specialised in high-class racing, from Listed to Pattern class.

I’m not exactly sure when I first contacted Jerry or he messaged me. It was most likely about exchanging links which bloggers did back in the day. I added him to my blogroll which updated whenever he made a new post. So I’d see what he had to say and tipped. Without question he knows his subject. He is a known face in Lowestoft and a good judge. I guess it was only a matter of time before we met in person. I’ve always been a bit slow out of the blocks so we probably had 10-years chatting via email before deciding to meet up at our local racecourse at Great Yarmouth. It’s about a 20-miles for the Suffolk man. He made me smile because he said he’d get the bus rather than the expense of the taxi. The only problem being the bus had about 50 stops. I’m pretty sure Jerry could have walked faster.

I’d make my way from the windswept Fens by train which saw me change at Ely and Norwich, and about three hours later I’d arrive.

As usual, we would meet at the Troll Cart, Market Gates, have a quick pint at the local Wetherspoons and get a taxi to the course.

Looking back it was the 19^th April 2022. I was excited to see a two-year-old fillies’ maiden on the card (3:05) over 5f on good to firm going. It always seems the case I never have a fancy at the course and this was one of those days. Jerry wasn’t in betting mode so we just chat about the racing and plans for the season ahead as he always goes the Craven meeting at Newmarket along with York, Sandown and often a trip to the Prix de ‘Arc de Triomphe.

Anyway, it was a good day at the course. Although I get so used to working from home that I struggle to concentrate on track. I am more of a statistical backer so I have to keep an eye on the betting markets which isn’t so easy when I am halfway through a conversation. You have to compromise, hey.

The two-year-old maiden saw a late non runner [Adjani] with a 25p in the pound deduction (so a quarter of the odds vanishing before our eyes) and worse still bringing the race down to seven runners which put pay to an each-way bet (as I prefer to bet three places rather than two). It was all happening far too quickly and the next moment the race was off. I didn’t bet. Jerry watched. The race continued. David Loughnane’s filly, Carmela, ran out a comfortable winner at odds of 8/1 [backed from 11/1]. With the deduction, backers enjoyed a 6/1 winner. Carmela, a lovely daughter of Tasleet, looked a picture. Ridden by Richard Kingscote for owners The Many Saints she won by two-and-a-quarter lengths from Karl Burke’s Jungle Time. It looked a classy performance and she wasn’t disgraced when competing in the Queen Mary Stakes (Group 2) at Royal Ascot [finishing 8^th but beaten less than six lengths]. Sadly, she was fatally injured when racing as a three-year-old at Leicester.

A very sad day for connections and all who followed her career.

Jerry and I always finish off a day’s racing with a meal at the local Savoy Tandoori down Regent Road. Like our betting he’s a little more adventurous with a mutton madras while I opt for a chicken tikka masala.

The pints slow and the shorts begin with a rum or two. Conversation turns to the good old days when bookmakers were bookmakers and Lowestoft was a place where punters liked a bet. Stories of individuals turning up with shopping bags of money and a day’s betting ahead where a brave independent bookie wasn’t afraid to take a bet. I could listen to Jerry’s stories for ever detailed in a soft Suffolk accent, mixed with mine from the Fens.

At around 9pm it’s time to make way for home. A shake of the hands and a smile. We know it won’t be long before another race day comes along. I generally stay the night at one of the local hotels as it’s too much travelling back which takes at least a couple of hours each way. Instead, I say I’m going to the Grosvenor Casino on Marine Parade but by the time I get to my hotel room I just rest after a long day.

If you ever get the chance to go to the races with a professional gambler you’ll have a good time but don’t bank on coming home with lots of money because the chances are a bet won’t be placed. It really makes no difference.

It was a good time had by all.

Would you believe the shortest betting odd for finding the Loch Ness Monster were 6/1?

It sound incredible.

It’s interesting to read old books and Ron Pollard’s Odds & Sods: My Life In The Betting Business, published in 1991 by Hodder & Stoughton, details a wealth of stories about betting odds and the hope of big wins.

The story of ‘Nessie’ isn’t new. In fact, it goes back to the sixth century. The Scottish Highlands make the most of tourism which, even back in the day, was said to be worth £25 million a year.

Betting the Loch Ness Monster exists was something Ron Pollard, the odds-maker at Ladbrokes and PR Director, was keen to accept. However, that didn’t mean his job wasn’t on the line.

In 1977, American tourists liked to place a bets on ‘Nessie’. A betting voucher was something to take home to prove they had been to Scotland and visited Loch Ness. There was a steady steam of tourists who visited the Inverness Ladbroke’s betting shop.

Every springtime (perhaps cynically to build up summer tourism) there would be a sighting of the hump-backed monster. However, later that year, there was an illogical amount of money bet on its existence with a liability of £180,000. Amazingly, the odds were shortened from 100/1 – 6/1 before as Pollard said: ‘Sanity prevailed’.

Ladbroke’s top brass said: ‘If ‘Nessie’ was found, Pollard wouldn’t be.’

Meaning he would have lost his job.

Peter George, the Managing Director of Ladbroke Racing, rushed into his office and said the amount of money bet told him that the Loch Ness Monster was likely to be found.

‘Why all the money?’

But what really was the story? The location where the bets were placed and by who would give a better idea. As it happened, the bets were placed at university towns like Exeter, Bristol and Edinburgh. University students up and down the country were literally ‘swamping’ Ladbrokes with money.

But why?

Well, a student magazine would help explain. Back in 1974 a research team from Boston Academy of Applied Science had finally published a report with ‘photographic evidence’ about the Loch Ness Monster. The students being well-informed were betting on the report proving the existence of the creature from the deep.

As time would detail, the existence of ‘Nessie’ is still open for debate but none of the students have collected their money yet!

Win or lose if was great publicity for Ladbrokes.

Ron Pollard – the wizard of odds – kept his job.

What do I do?

My wife hates me gambling. I’m asking for a friend of mine, it has nothing to do with me. I’m my own man. I must admit most wives aren’t keen on hearing their other half likes a bet. In ways I can understand it. For anyone who doesn’t gamble it seems a negative. The fear of the potential loss outweighs the possible gain. I really don’t want to go down the path that life’s a gamble even though it is. We cannot escape the inherent gambles of life although, I guess, betting on Tottenham Hotspur to win their next home game may seem a different kettle of fish. It’s a gamble that doesn’t need to be taken. It’s pointless so why don’t you just forget the whole thing and do something less boring instead.

If you are of a certain age you will have heard that phrase before.

My good friend, who I will call Ernie Wise, likes a gamble. To be fair Ernie is very good at gambling and he knows his stuff. He loves a bet on the horses. He has his own system and proclaims that it works. I can’t say I’ve ever thought too much about this point and just accept it is true. I have no reason to question him. Some times you simply have to take that approach.

My brothers and I often go to Great Yarmouth races and stay at a hotel and visit the Grosvenor Casino for a bit of a gamble. I said to Ernie: ‘You should come along and enjoy yourself.’ I know he would have a fun evening at the Grosvenor. A lovely listed building with a little bit of the James Bond about it. Well, in my mind it does. It’s a great location.

I said: ‘You may like it too much!’ Implying he may get carried away and his wife will divorce him. Obviously, I said that in jest. I know he has discipline and isn’t the type of person to bet too much.

So, unfortunately, he said he wouldn’t go to the casino as it would cause problems.

It’s disappointing that someone cannot have a day or night out because their wife disapproves. I guess everything is about give and take but I can guarantee he would enjoy his evening, lose a minimal amount of money, if not win and few quid and it would probably improve his relationship. I can understand people being careful about someone gambling because it isn’t to be taken lightly. In fact, unless you have self control, I wouldn’t advise anyone to gamble for fun. You are probably saying: ‘You sound like Ernie’s wife!’

However, I feel restricting someone from having a night out isn’t really the answer. I mean, on the grand scheme of things, it makes no difference to me. I’m not going to knock on their door and plead for him to be allowed out.

Thankfully, I have never been in a relationship where I have been told: ‘Don’t do that!’ Well, not for gambling, anyway.

That’s a joke too.

Gambling is one of those subject matters that people cannot get beyond. It has a stigma attached to it. If you talk about gambling then you are on the edge of divorce. Don’t push the issue. It’s nothing like my weekly stint at bingo.

Here’s an interesting thing, if you bet and win a fortune no man, woman or child wouldn’t want their share of the dosh.

‘Go on, let him go!’

‘Have a heart. Like the queen of hearts.’

I’ve been reading Dave Nevison’s book: A Bloody Good Winner: Life as a Professional Gambler.

I know what you are saying: ‘You must be a slow reader, it was published by Highdown in June 2008.’ For those of a sarcastic nature, I’ve read the book a few times. Every so often I like to recap and assess my progress as a gambler with the thoughts of Mr. Nevison. Things have moved on a little some 15-years later but the foundations to gambling don’t change too much from a philosophical standing.

Well, that’s what I say.

It’s interesting to read about the early days of Nevison’s gambling life as a pro punter back in 1993. Going from working in the City as a foreign currency trader – where deals were in the millions – to getting a bet on at a blustery racecourse were literally poles apart. It was a learning curve on so many fronts and by all accounts a difficult pill to swallow. He often he wished he could go back to those leisurely years where money really wasn’t a problem.

Not only did he struggle in those early years but he found his approach was all wrong. Being a traditional gambler, he would find a couple of decent bets on the card and bet on the nose which worked well if they came in but if they lost he found himself chasing his losses because he didn’t much fancy heading back on the train to Kent with that empty feeling in his pockets.

Things weren’t going to plan until he bumped into another familiar face Eddie ‘The Shoe’ Fremantle who was much more successful in his pro gambling with a very different stance on how to find value bets.

Fremantle made his own tissue on each horse in each race and looked to see how they compared to those of the bookmakers. If he had a horse priced 2/1 and the bookies had it at 5/1 he’d bet on the potential value. He may even bet on a number of horses in the same race. If his tissue odds detailed value he would win and the bookmakers would lose.

Upon hearing this approach, Nevison had a eureka moment and couldn’t believe he hadn’t worked it out for himself. From that day he formed his own tissue prices and by all accounts never looked back. He had found the key to being a successful professional gambler. Not only did it allow him to make the most of a race card (being able to bet in every race) but it also helped spread the money around with some bookmakers winning while perhaps one lost. This was a crucial part of his success in getting bets on rather than betting on one or two horses on the card. Bookmakers would be wary of taking selective bets if they were frequently digging into their readies.

A Bloody Good Winner is a great book for not only its humour and big bets but also from a learning point of view. Nevison could have started his book at any point of his professional gambling journey which may have given the impression he never backed a loser. But he is an honest bloke who didn’t flinch from detailing that his early years didn’t go to plan, that he made mistakes and listened to someone who had a better approach.

He says to this day that he appreciates and respects Eddie Fremantle while his book was rather scathing at other pro gamblers at the time who he felt didn’t put their money where their mouth is or simply bet such small money it could barley cover the costs of living.

Gambling is very much a learning experience. You don’t just wake up one day and find you are a successful professional gambler. It’s a journey of trial and error. It is a life of hard knock. But, like Nevison, it was a profession he felt he had to take because it was his ambition.

He did it well.