Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Updated: January 5, 4:37 PM ET
Taking stock in 2003
By Jay Cronley
Special to ESPN.com
Certain of you horse players will get a letter saying that the Internal Revenue Service would like to have a look at your money.
This notice will arrive in that ominous brown envelope that causes a taxpayer's heart to hop. When you see the folded side of the brown envelope first, you hope and pray that it is a simple bill, an offer to join a club, anything but greetings from your Treasury. But once the envelope is on the kitchen table, it's a little late for religion.
There is still hope to be had after you see that the return address belongs to the IRS.
Maybe it's a form.
Maybe it's a notice of bad math on your part.
The thicker the brown envelope, the more advisable it is to sit down before opening.
If the government has requested the pleasure of your numbers, horse players can write off their losses up to the point of their winnings. Proof is required in the form of losing tickets among other documents. A wad of random losing tickets with tire or heel marks probably won't meet the evidentiary requirements. Proper evidence of having had your backside kicked in a horse race is a ticket stapled to the program accompanied by a note in a bettor's journal.
Once you have had your horse racing action looked at by The Man, you begin keeping extremely good notes.
Making records of what you bet is also invaluable when it comes to losing less, which translates into winning more.
Winning is personal. Picking the right horse often comes down to experience, to interpretation. The same numbers say different things to people sitting side by side.
Losing, though, can be a universal experience in certain situations.
I have just finished skimming my betting notes for most of 2003 and have found something that you might find helpful.
Of all the races that I thought seriously about betting before passing instead, and there were many dozens, nobody finished 1-2 in the manner in which I would have wagered.
Had I bet those races that I sort of liked, I would have lost every Exacta.
Handicapping is where you make a bet for a reason that makes sense, a reason that has probably paid off before.
Gambling involves more hope than conviction.
Passing on what amounts to a hunch or a gamble is difficult because you're afraid your horses will run 1-2 or 1-2-3 and pay thousands.
I can find no record of even running 1-3 on a race I simply watched.
Starting to pass on the kinds of races you used to bet requires discipline.
It's much easier after you feel dumb once: I almost bet that?
Passing on a race is a matter of being honest with yourself and identifying your feelings. If you feel about the same way after looking at most races, then maybe you should call the toll free number listed toward the backs of many racing programs and ask to speak to a nice therapist about your gambling habits.
A solid resolution for 2004 would be to bet only the races you love.
Once you get the hang of it, passing on a race can be exhilarating. I passed on one the other day after getting all the way to the windows with two twenty-dollar bills. The horse
I liked to win ran fourth and the horse that didn't look bad for second ran sixth. Watching a bad horse win without losing money can be a humorous experience. In this particular race, bad jockeys were all over the place. Had my $40 been on the line, it would have resembled a crime. As an educational interlude, it looked like the Keystone Kops.
Passing more in ought-four is a win-win situation.
Odds are, you'll never pass on a big winner.
And if you do, it's proof you're jinxed and cursed.
Here's to the ones you love.
Write to Jay at jaycronley@go.com
