More than 350,000 in Britain are addicted already and the numbers are growing
The name of the horse eludes me now, but for a few weeks in the middle of the 1990s it held me in its thrall as I followed its lunchtime progress in some of England’s most hallowed greensward, including Chepstow, Haydock and Doncaster. A friend of a friend had a share of the beast and so, one afternoon, I backed it with a few notes. It was the first time I had ever placed a bet on a horse race.
A few minutes later, we were all standing in front of the telly in a Glasgow pub and even now I can tell you exactly who was there and what we were all drinking. Prior to this, television racing was merely something of which you were barely aware. I wouldn’t have paid it any attention even if a lady was disrobing on the back of one of the horses. But then none of those races included a horse with my money riding on it. On this particular afternoon, as I watched my horse romp home, the scales fell from my eyes and I suddenly understood the magic of horse racing and gambling.