I’ve been reading Harry Findlay’s: Gambling For life, published in 2017 by Sport Media. The book has been well received and told a story so fantastic that you may have thought it was pure fiction.
Findlay has always been a larger than life character, a big man with a big voice and even bigger betting bank until that fateful bet.
I guess each punter has their own way of doing things. And most have their own levels of superstition. You hear of a punter wearing his favourite socks to bring a little bit of luck. Jack Berry, a very successful horse trainer back in the day, always wore a red shirt. I’m not sure if that was down to luck or a fashion statement. Personally, I am one of those gamblers who doesn’t like to say: ‘This will win’ or what can be a real temptation of fate ‘This horse can’t win!’. If you’ve ever given good reason for a 50/1 shot to beat you in a photo finish, that’s it.
If you don’t have any element of the heebie-jeebies and there’s no better evening spent than seeing what the Ouija board spells out for days ahead you may have nothing to fear.
Reading Gambling For Life – The Man Who Won Millions And Spent Every Penny is a great read and well written by Neil Harman.
I can’t help thinking Harry tempted fate with his colossal bet on the All Black to win the 2007 Rugby World Cup.
To make the bet of all bets, above and beyond what is your normal fix, is halfway to tempting fate. And betting £2.5 million is probably the equivalent of tapping the opposite of Lady Luck on the shoulder (we will call her Deborah Doom) and showing her your betting slip and saying: ‘You will be paying this out, Dear!’
Instead of pulling the cash out of her pockets [cheque, as no one has that big pockets] she bends you over and pulls down your pants.
‘Who hasn’t had their pants pulled down!’
Findlay was convinced the bet was a winner, but a quarter-final against France rather than the predicted Argentina wasn’t part of the plan. It was a thorn in his side. He had booked a corporate box at the Millennium Stadium, Cardif, and invited friends and fellow punters who had put their faith in Harry Findlay and ultimately Dan Carter the All Black’s fly-half. With him onside, surely it was a done deal.
How could they lose?
I’m sure Deborah Doom was peeping through a crack in the door and laughing her arse off because she knew the score and it wasn’t going to end well. She’s the type of common bird who dances around the grave of any big-time gamblers who have lost their shirt.
Findlay told everyone he had ever met that New Zealand were ‘certainties’ to win the World Cup 2007. Lots of friends and followers put their money down including gardener Charlie who turned up one day with an ice cream container filled with £28,000. Others who turned up to watch the live match were Paul Barber, co-owner of Denman, Paul Nicholls, the horse’s trainer and friends Jim O’Rourke, Glen Gill and Alex Williamson and a few other mates from across the country.
This was just the quarter finals but a £2.5 million bet at odds of 1.78 [just under 4/5] would potentially return a bumper payday of almost £1.9 million on winning the final.
As each of the guests turned up they were given a goodie bag as a keepsake of the day including a clock in the shape of a rugby ball.
I can only imagine the look on the face of Deborah Doom or what the Ouija board would have spelled out. It would have included more bleeps than Harry could have fit in one sentences. She must have been laughing like a hyena.
If ever there had been a bet that tempted fate more I don’t know what it was.
Things started well (it was just part of Deborah’s Plan) and at half time New Zealand were winning 13 – 3. Harry checked the prices on Betfair and the All Blacks were priced 1.03 to win the match. Perhaps he sensed a moment of foreboding and laid off £600,000 which would have cost a measly £18,000 if they won (which obviously he was praying). As it happened, he must have regretted not laying the whole bloody bet.
Things really started to fall apart when Carter limped off the field midway through the second half.
The feeling in the corporate box become even more solemn when France were given a try that was clearly a forward pass. The try stood. Just 10 minutes to go and Jean-Baptiste Elissalde kicked the conversion which sealed their fate.
France 20 – New Zealand 18.
The All Blacks couldn’t fight back.
Many in the room were left in tears trying to make sense of what happened. The cost on emotion and finances incredible.
Harry Findlay said the train journey home was one of the worst moments of his life, traveling with a crowd of cheering French supporters.
[Deborah would have been screaming: ‘Magnifique!!!!!’]
Alex Williamson, one of the those still hurting in the box recalled Paul Nicholls suddenly reappearing, looking for the freebie clock he’d left on the table in the middle of the room.
He said: ‘I just remember thinking given all that was going on, how funny it was.’
I can tell you this for nothing. There’s another house with a rugby ball shaped clock sitting with pride of place on the mantelpiece. A house decorated with flock wallpaper, a bookshelf filled with professional gambler books, an old record player sits in the corner and on it turning slowly Kenny Roger’s song The Gambler blasts out.
It’s the home of Deborah Doom.
She knew the score.
It never pays to tempt fate.
She will pull your pants down and slap your arse.