Epsom Derby Betting / Jack Houghton / 26 May 2008 / Leave a Comment

Jack Houghton is a seasoned veteran of English racing's favourite flat race of the year and has a few valuable lessons to share with his readers including making sure you know what the dress code is, not betting too much on any one horse and not wagering you can run the course yourself..

Lesson Number One: Get There Early

Take a small, congested Surrey town with a population of 27,000. Add 100,000 drunks in big hats riding on dilapidated double-decker buses. The result? Pandemonium. Trust me, whatever time you're planning to set-off for the Derby this year, go three hours earlier and you might be there in time for the big race.

I wish I could explain the complex interactions of vehicles in Epsom town centre on Derby Day, but unfortunately I've never managed to witness it first hand. Every year, setting off earlier than the previous year, I find myself, an hour before racing, in a queue of traffic, outside the same church on the outskirts of Epsom.

Every year I abandon the car in the church car park and walk the remaining couple of miles. I swear that if I set off on the Friday night, my journey would be halted at the same church. Perhaps it's a sign from God? Perhaps he intends me to go in the church rather than just using its car park? I'll tell you what. Arrange me a clear passage to this year's Derby where I arrive, in the car park, a comfortable couple of hours before racing and, the miracle witnessed, I'll lay down my Timeform Black Book and pick up Yours instead.

Lesson Number Two: Know The Dress Code

During my time at Betfair, my big boss was the suave and debonair Mark Davies. Late morning on Oaks Day, Mark's assistant came by my desk to ask for advice. She had despatched Mark to Epsom, all dressed up in his top hat and tails, for a radio interview. Unfortunately for Mark, and his assistant, the dress code for Oaks day does not require top hat or tails. Feeling a little overdressed, Mark had rung his assistant to register his displeasure. What should she do?

This is where I took over. Call Mark. "Mark, there's the funniest thing on At The Races. They're doing crowd shots at Epsom and there's some berk stood in the middle in top hat and tails!"

Apparently this wasn't amusing. "That's interesting," he says, "because I'm looking at a shot of the Betfair office and can see someone else at your desk. They look quite good at your job."

Lesson Number Three: Beware the Man in White Suit

As we have learnt, Epsom on Derby Day is a busy place and attendees are precious about their outfits. Add a half-drunk cup of coffee and a hard-of-hearing companion and the scene is set for dramatic Derby antics.

One year, having watched Galileo (who we didn't back) defeat Golan (who we did back), my companion and I tried to find a quiet spot where we could plan how to recoup losses. Buying coffees, we clambered behind the refreshment van and sat on its tow-bar; the only available seating for eight miles. Midway through discussions, my companion threw his half-drunk cup of coffee into a bin in front of us. His view slightly obscured and his aim not wholly accurate, the cup hit the edge of the bin, spilling its contents over a large man in white-linen top hat and tails.

My first thought was to wonder where one got oneself top hat and tails in white linen, but I soon realised more pressing concerns were at hand. White-linen man launched himself towards us saying: "Look what you've done to my suit." Or at least he said something similar to that, little of which is printable.

My hard-of-hearing companion, unaware he was responsible for the coffee-polka dot effect and thinking the large man was enquiring some finer point of Derby form, asked for clarification on what he wanted: "WHAT?"

White-linen man saw this as a question of a more violent nature and moved closer. I stood up, between the main protagonists, to try and calm the situation.

"What's your mate's problem?" asked white-linen man, or words to that effect.

Before I could answer, my companion, still unaware of the gravity of the situation said: "Backed Golan too hey mate? Nevermind, have some coffee and forget about it!"

This did not improve the situation. Neither did my companion's follow-up comment: "Hey mate, you've spilt coffee on your suit."

This wasn't going to end well. And indeed it didn't. But you don't need the details, just be aware that passions run high on Derby Day.

Lesson Number Four: You're Not JP McManus

There are men who bet many thousands on the outcome of a single race. Men like JP McManus. Most of us - men like me - bet significantly less. Unfortunately I sometimes forget this.

Months before the 2005 Derby I received information that Gypsy King was Ballydoyle's most likely Derby winner; favoured by both O'Brien and Fallon. Over the course of a few days I placed a number of each-way bets with the Tote at their stand-out price of 40-1. That should have been the end of things really. I stood to win over five grand if things worked out, but hadn't bet so much I would struggle to make the next mortgage payment if they didn't.

Unfortunately that wasn't the end of things. Caught up in what I can only describe as a kind of religious fervour, I became convinced Gypsy King would win racing's blue riband and began "investing" every penny I could find on it happening. A week before the race I had more money on the horse than I knew I had. If Gypsy King won, I would be a wealthy man.

Unfortunately he didn't, and I wasn't. And it turned out I didn't have a lot of the money I bet with in the first place. Lesson learnt: just because it's the biggest race of the year, it doesn't mean you should bet anymore than usual on it.

Lesson Number Five: You're Not a Racehorse

Drowning my sorrows post-Gypsy King with champagne I hoped someone else was paying for, I found myself explaining to a crowd of strangers how, as a natural athlete, I could easily complete the Derby course in less than thrice the time it had taken Motivator earlier in the day.

Despite their protestations about the difficulty of the challenge - "you do realise it's a mile and a half" and, "the course rises the height of Nelson's column in the first seven furlongs" and, "there's a tricky adverse-camber in the home straight" - I felt this a perfect opportunity to repair my bank balance and struck a number of wagers to do so.

I sometimes wonder why the crowd of strangers didn't put up more salient objections, such as: "You're so drunk you can hardly walk and anyhow, top hat and tails are hardly appropriate athletic wear for a record attempt." But they didn't.

All I will say is the Derby course is tough, so don't be too hard on the horse you've backed if it fails to get round it quicker than everything else. Experience tells me it's more arduous than you think.

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