Bookmakers Past And Present

William Hill Bookmakers now based in Australia

Bill Waterhouse: Big Name In Racing - No.1 All Time Bookmaker....

Australia's oldest bookmaking family goes by the name of Waterhouse.

The first began offering odds back in 1898, but it was the next generation that found the clan achieving their zenith through the efforts of a man variously known as "Big Bill," and "King of the Bookies," Bill Waterhouse.

He more or less ran the rails for decades through a combination of horse and human savvy that seldom saw him paying punters, at least to an extent that exceeded what he took in, but frequently found him on the receiving end. What makes him remarkable is his longevity and ability to adapt to the changes that racing presented down through the years.

Bill Waterhouse Bookmaker

Born in January of 1922, Bill Waterhouse spent his formative and educational years in the environs of Sydney.

He began working at the age of 16 as a clerk in his father's publishing business. Three years later, when his dad died, he took over the diverse enterprises of the family, even though he was the youngest of the siblings.

At the time, he had his hand in the family's affairs that encompassed diverse business ventures involving various real estate holdings of commercial buildings and rental properties.

If that were not challenge enough, he also took on the quest of earning a law degree, which he completed in 1948. He joined his older brothers in the family legal practice and seemingly was doing quite well, but when his older brother Charlie died unexpectedly in 1954, Bill made the decision to focus on the family's bookmaking business.

His first event in that capacity came on Epson Day in 1954.

Earlier, while in England in 1950, Bill Waterhouse had nearly lost his life in a car accident that made him keenly aware of the transience of life and the need to live fully in each and every moment.

That experience was to have a fundamental impact on both his life and his approach to bookmaking that will be seen further on.

Once he had firmly established himself in the betting field, he regularly competed against the other big bookmakers during the late 50s and the sixties, waging battles with men such as Ray Hopkins, Fred Duval and Filipe Ismael. His willingness to take on risk, and his devil-may-care attitude reputedly cost him to lose $1 million on one day in 1968, but he accepted that turn of fortune as though it were insignificant.

Bill Waterhouse had by this time been coronated by the media as the world's largest gambler.

That was the equivalent of painting a bull's-eye on his back and Waterhouse was the frequent target of accusations of rigging races, substituting horses, known as "ringing-in," and last minute scratchings of horses from events.

One famous example of these allegations concerns the infamous doping incident involving the champion stayer Big Philou and Spring Carnival of 1969.

The horse had been declared the winner in the Caulfield Cup as a result of a second place finish that was changed to a first after a protest lodged by Big Philou'sjockey, Roy Higgins, was upheld by stewards. Entering the Melbourne Cup as a heavy favourite, Big Philou was scratched less than an hour before the start of the race.

At that time, an hour was nowhere near sufficient time to allow punters and bookmakers to react. The accusation leveled at Bill Waterhouse was that he had played a central role in the application of performance enhancing drugs to the horse.

The sanctioning body of the race at that time, the Australian Jockey Club, eventually determined that Waterhouse was innocent through having no stake in the race, an almost inconceivable coincidence by any standard.

Then, there was one of the most bizarre events to ever liven the pages of Australian horse racing history; the Fine Cotton Affair.

A more complete chronicle of that event can be found elsewhere on this very same website, but suffice it to say that the most gifted comedic talent of all time could not have imagined a crazier scenario than that involved with substituting a horse of a different colour for the underachieving Fine Cotton, and then trying to use women's hair colour to mask the deception, along with bandages and of all things, white paint, and it is quite easy to imagine that the incident was the highlight of the 1984 season.

Bill Waterhouse was not so lucky in this instance. He was warned off until 2002 and was only re-admitted when it was eventually determined that the evidence against him was not sufficiently convincing.

His son Robbie was also deemed to have participated and was found guilty of perjuring himself in front of the Racing Appeals Tribunal.

It should be noted, somewhat wryly and with a definite air of skepticism, that even though Big Bill was banned, he probably found some creative avenues for circumventing the restrictions placed upon him, just as he had managed to convince anyone who mattered that he had nothing on for the Melbourne Cup that found Big Philou a late scratch.

Exonerated, Bill Waterhouse returned to the betting ring in 2002 at the age of 80, where he erased any doubt as to who was the biggest on-course bookmaker.

He went from villain to hero when the Sydney Turf Club named him the Most Improved Bookmaker in 2004. He partnered with his grandson, bringing Tom into the business.

Even at this late stage, Bill Waterhouse has kept his interests diverse. He maintained his affinity to real estate and built the first strata-titled homes in NSW, resurrected his mining interests and spread his betting operation overseas.

He filled in a diplomatic role to the island of Tonga through his association with the heir to that country's throne that he had formed during his college days.

Bill Waterhouse published his autobiography, the aptly titled "What Are the Odds," in 2009. It should be required reading for anyone even remotely interested in racing or the struggle of an individual who survives great challenges to emerge triumphant.

The details of his trials and tribulations, which he counts as the foundation of his success, make fascinating reading.

George Freeman: SP Bookmaker and Underworld Figure

The ranks of the famous Australian punters contains more than a few who had something other than a sincere regard for societal conventions, but most managed to keep their disdain at a manageable level and thus avoid any serious peccadilloes with legal authorities.

Many achieved an almost mythical status with the general public who admired their devil-may-care approaches to life and others exuded something of a Robin Hood persona where the big bookmakers were the rich from whom to take in order to give to the poor, that is, the everyday punter, to a degree that many engaged in charitable activities designed to compensate for their other shortcomings.

George Freeman SP Bookmaker

There are, however, more than a few with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, whose deeds placed them firmly in the negative column.

That would seem to be the case with our current subject, a man who went by the name of George David Freeman, who but for an absent consonant in his last name might have been unfortunately associated with one certain famous Australian trainer of horses.

George Freeman was born in Sydney on 22 January 1935 when the Great Depression was well entrenched around the world.

He began with hardship brought on by an abandoning father that left him and his mother and two siblings to fend for themselves. George's mother remarried to a man with a criminal conviction is his past that died soon after the nuptials. George's early life was spent in Sydney's slums where he was often hungry and malnourished.

George Freeman was no older than 12 years of age when he had been put out of two schools and placed on probation for stealing. At 14, after his probation ended, he found work as a stable boy that lasted for two years, but Freeman preferred to direct his energies toward a career as a pool hustler. He led a pretty much aimless existence until a life of crime beckoned him.

George Freeman was only 16 in 1951 when he had already accumulated convictions for various and sundry petty offenses that landed him a two-year stint at Mount Penang Training School.

Unrepentant, he was sent to the Tamworth Boys' Home, a notorious establishment that Freeman found so to his dislike that he attempted to get transferred away by swallowing soap, but for his trouble was the recipient of an unnecessary surgery to remove his appendix when he was misdiagnosed by a Tamworth prison doctor.

Upon his release from Tamworth in 1953, he partook of the hospitality of other jails.

By some method, he managed to become married in 1963 to Marsha Bedford, which had little effect of George's character, but by 1968 he had served out his last jail term and was at last a free man.

George Freeman next used a forged passport to travel to the United States, where he met a gangster named Joe Testa, the head of a crime syndicate who was interested in expanding to Australia.

For the next 20 years that would represent the rest of his life, Freeman became involved with the Australian horse racing industry, taking advantage of law enforcement and political corruption in New South Wales to work as a commission agent and SP bookmaker.

George Freeman was supposedly a prime person of interest in a 1971 race fixing scheme that produced a $500,000 win that bankrupted the Canberra TAB. Seven years later, he returned to the United States and was detained there while at the same time being declared an organized crime figure by the parliament of NSW.

When he eventually made his way back to Australia, George Freeman managed to acquire a mansion at Yowie Bay that he equipped with elaborate security measures.

Those measures were apparently not adequate to protect him from being the recipient of a gunshot wound to the neck that may have been administered by one of the many who had been the victim of Freeman's dealings. It was apparently at this time that he developed an addiction to pain medications that may have played a role in his death.

Despite the attempts of the authorities to pin all manner of crimes to him, the worst they could manage was nothing more than a $5,000 fine.

In 1988, George Freeman attempted to profit from his escapades by publishing an autobiography where he claims, in his words, to having been, "Right in the guts of Sydney's underworld." A television series, "Underbelly," attempted to further capitalize on his doings, and it is doubtless the case that some of the events were romanticized, but the series did well despite any inaccuracies that it may have contained.

George Freeman's place amongst the punters who have left a mark on Australian horse racing history is obviously not as colorful as those of some of the others, such as Eddie Hayson, Hollywood George Edser and Melbourne Mick Bartley, but it could safely be said that he was representative of the type that gives racing a less than beyond reproach reputation, one that at certain times was well-deserved.

Tom Waterhouse Bookmaker

The Waterhouse contribution to Australian punters seems to be in good hands for the future as the fourth generation, represented by youngest member Tom.

Tom Waterhouse has benefitted from the tutelage of both Grandfather Bill and father Robbie.

He started at an early age, although not quite as early it seems, as his dad.

He waited until he was 21 to become completely immersed in the operation, but in so doing, he introduce modern technology to the equation by adding online wagering to the business with a betting site that encompasses many sports as well as horse racing,

tom Waterhouse Bookmaker

This online offering has done nothing other than increase the family's status as Australia's premier on-course bookmaker.

Tom Waterhouse certainly has the pedigree that should lend itself to a career in horse racing. His Grandfather on his mother's side is legendary thoroughbred trainer T.J. Smith.

One thing that is obvious that Tom Waterhouse inherited from the bookmaking side of the family is Big Bill and Robbie's apparent fearlessness when it comes down to a head-to-head duel with the big punters.

He shrugged off and laughed on one occasion that found him losing close to $2 million in less than 15 minutes.

Like many of the larger-than-life figures that permeate horse racing, Tom Waterhouse is no wall flower when it comes to seeking attention.

He has appeared on the Australian version of "Dancing With the Stars," "Waltzing With the Stars," although it would seem that his dancing abilities are not the equal of his bookmaking skills. He also has received recognition for his contributions as an expert commentator on TVN.

Visitors to Tom's website are immediately greeted with a challenge of sorts: Any sport, any bet type, anytime. He offers, in addition to thoroughbred racing, he covers harness and greyhound racing.

He also is a sanctioned bet provider for the AFL, NRL, and Cricket Australia. Punters are also offered opportunities in baseball, hockey, golf, election results and many other diverse topics. The website also offers the beginning punter considerable educational resources.

On the turf front, just like his father and Grandfather before him, Tom seems to have attracted his share of controversy.

For one, there were allegations of a scheme involving him and his dad where large quantities of fictitious bets were taken on behalf of big punter Sean Bartholomew, some for as little as $100.

This seems to be far-fetched for an operation that accounts for over $100 million annually, but of course, stranger things have happened in racing. Tom Waterhouse was facing 16 charges under LR 97(1) and two breaches of LR 97(3). Charges such as these usually result in fines. (reference AAP TURF )

A recent dust-up was when Tom supposedly made comments to the effect that More Joyous was off in the 2013 All Aged Stakes and the furor over the implications that Tom was the beneficiary of inside information from his mom, More Joyous trainer Gai Waterhouse, were so intense that the horse's owner, John Singleton, fired Ms. Waterhouse during the television broadcast of the race. Tom was cleared of any wrong doing.

In 2013 due to his heavy advertising campain tactics Tom Waterhouse has apologised for the public outcry over his advertising blitz during National Rugby League games.

Tom was also an extremely vocal opponent of a plan on the part of Racing NSW to impose a tax on bookmakers operating on any NSW racecourses.

Today, Tom Waterhouse, despite having introduced modern technology to the family operation, still thrives on going head-to-head against the high rollers on the rails.

Michael Eskander Australian Bookmaker

Where the traditional element of rails bookmaking intersects with modern technology is where you will likely encounter Michael Eskander, tote bag in one hand, computer mouse in the other.

He has done much to combine wagering with the power of the computer, and in so doing, has made his Bookmaking entity Betstar one on the premier online operations to be found.

Michael Eskander Bookmaker

In every country where online gambling is permissible, Betstar and Eskander, along with members of his family and organization, have expanded far beyond horse racing to offer punters the opportunity to wager via the telephone and the Internet on virtually every sport conceivable - along with just about anything that presents an uncertain future event, such as politics and even competitive eating.

Michael Eskander came to Australia out of Egypt in 1966. He bounced around for the better part of the next 18 years in various business pursuits before obtaining a bookmaker's license in 1984, at which point he began to field at tracks all across the country.

He does seem to have an affinity for going head-to-head with the big punters at the track, and although he has managed to find a happy spot for modern technology in the world of punting, he in most probability will never completely abandon the environment of the rails.

Betstar is currently securely entrenched as one of the premier online betting portals in the world.

In 2007, Michael Eskander and his son/partner Alan were forced to move their electronic gambling service to Darwin due to excessive nanny-ism on the part of Victoria's government. The restrictions they put in place to regulate Betstar were to cost the state their share of the revenues and economic benefits of the jobs Betstar provided estimated at approximately $100 million a year, an amount that Northern Territory was more than happy to accept.

As far as horse racing is concerned, Bestar's offerings are designed to appeal to every type of punter. Everything from tote plus 5 percent bonus to top fluc to fixed odds to all types of exotics is offered.

While it is likely the debate over whether or not gambling of any sort should be permitted and if so what form that gambling should take will never completely be resolved, Michael Eskander himself takes the position of favouring regulation over prohibition, which is logical to expect, given his interests. He maintains that the vast majority of punters are in it for fun, recreation and other benign reasons and are not addicts.

Michael Eskander further asserts that t is far better to deal with the issues out in the open rather than force the gambling industry underground and causing vast revenues from taxation to be lost to the public at large. This would seem to be a reasonable stance, even acknowledging Eskander's bias, and there is quite a body of evidence pointing to the unintended consequences that have been the result of every type of prohibition.

Michael Eskander is prone to using the analogy of gambling and alcohol, claiming that most Australians like to have a drink and manage to do so responsibly, despite the small majority whose overindulgence creates issues.

Eskander was also an activist in a campaign several years ago to remove an advertising ban that had prevented bookmakers from other states from advertising their services in in Victoria and New South Wales. Again, he obviously has a dog in this fight, but also again, historical precedent seems to offer numerous examples of the failures and unintended consequences of excess provincial protectionism.

On balance, it would seem that he represents the pragmatic approach: the Internet is here to stay, gambling is here to stay, better to regulate and tax in the open rather than to abandon the tax revenues generated to the criminal underground where it would otherwise go.

Michel Eskander and his family owned wagering operation represents the best of the opportunities available in a society that accepts that it is better to be the agents of change than the victims of change.

Even though Michael Eskander has the occasional run-in with his rivals on the rails now and then, he has been on the front lines of the transition from the past and the old ways of doing things and the future where the modern world offers a legitimate outlet for humans' natural impulses in a way that benefits society all around.

Robbie Waterhouse Bookmaker

Robbie Waterhouse: Certain names have become synonymous with various aspects of Australian horse racing.

Mention thoroughbreds, and the names that immediately come to mind are Phar Lap, Kingston Town, Makybe Diva, and more recently, Black Caviar. Bring up the subject of jockeys and most people will immediately mention the names of Roy Higgins, George Moore and Kerrin McEvoy as representative. Talking about trainers compels attention being paid to T.J. Smith or Bart Cummings.

Mention bookmakers, however, and the name Waterhouse will be immediately forthcoming.

Robbie Waterhouse Bookmaker

First appearing on the scene in the late 19 th century, it was the second generation of the clan, represented by William "Big Bill" Waterhouse that clearly established the family's dominance of the rails.

The third generation, represented by Robert, a.k.a. Robbie, amply carried on the tradition of a Waterhouse being prominent if the wagering arena.

Robbie Waterhouse and his father have established a presence everywhere from the major metropolitan racecourses of Sydney and Melbourne to the most remote of the bush tracks.

They have secured a place together in the annals of racing for their connection, real or fictional, to the Fine Cotton Affair.

This most comical of schemes resulted in Robbie Waterhouse not only being banished for close to two decades, but also had consequences involving the ability of Robbie's wife Gai to qualify for a trainer's license.

Young Robbie Waterhouse cut his teeth in the family business when he was only 10 years old.

He counted money, checked the bookies' bags, balance the accounts and finalise the settlement details. He filled in for his dad whenever Bill's business took him abroad. He served as a mentor, along with Bill, to his son Tom whenever Robbie was occupied fielding in New Zealand.

From many perspectives, it was Robbie who took the brunt of the fallout from the Fine Cotton Affair. He was exiled for around 17 years before finally being reinstated in 2002. As of August 2010, trainer Hayden Haitana was still serving his life ban. Fine Cotton died on 20 February 2009, aged 31.

The New South Wales Thoroughbred Racing Board determined that he had been sufficiently chastised, and might have been influenced by the fact that there was never any incontrovertible evidence of Waterhouse involvement in the affair.

Quite a bit about punting on horses has changed in that 17 year interim.

Access to prodigious amounts of information has resulted in more educated punters who are approaching the sport electronically as opposed to face-to-face with bookies.

Of course, Robbie's return was immediately the source of speculation that he would get inside information from Gai. Those suspicions eventually subsided only to arise again in the recent brouhaha that erupted when John Singleton publicly dismissed Gai over the appearance of impropriety that occurred at the last All Aged Stakes when a comment made by the fourth generation of Waterhouses, Tom, caused the radar of the stewards to sound the alarm.

The family, including Robbie Waterhouse, was already being observed with extreme vigilance over an incident where it appeared that they were placing fictitious telephone bets.

Some dismissed this incident as a vendetta on the part of stewards, but given the history of Robbie's alleged involvement with various underhanded operations, it would be possible to argue that Robbie did not truly appreciate the stroke of good fortune that was represented by the reinstatement of his bookmaker's license.

What the future holds for Robbie and the Waterhouse family is certainly prime fodder for speculation.

It is a relative certainty that their exploits will provide entertainment, if nothing else, a little taste of controversy and the occasional dust-up.

One thing, however, of which there will never be any doubt, is that if you desire the name of a bookmaker that is synonymous with the Sport of Kings, your only real choice is Waterhouse.

Mark Morrissey Bookmaker

Prominent bookmakers have always held a fascination with Australian punters. It is not the same fascination that exists for the big punters. We look now at Mark Morrissey.

In fact, it is more a case of punters hoping to see the big bookies get their comeuppance. William “Big Bill” Waterhouse would be the obvious example, both for his exploits and for his legacy, particularly with regard to thoroughbred racing. More than one underdog would have been quite pleased in 1967 when big plunger Felipe “The Filipino Fireball” Ysmael fleeced Waterhouse for $96,000 from a $60,000 bet on Tobin Bronze in the Toorak Handicap.

That David versus Goliath story did not have the biblical outcome, however, as Ysmael was disqualified for racing in 1968, while Big Bill and the Waterhouse clan keep rolling ahead.

More recently, Big Bill Waterhouse’s role has been assumed by our subject for today, Mark Morrissey, while big-time punter Sean Bartholomew fills in for Ysmael. The Sydney Daily Telegraph described their rivalry in an article published on February 8, 2014. That article tagged both bookmaker and punter as gamblers. We will focus on Mark Morrissey for the moment, but first, a little background on the industry he represents.  

The word “gambling” is hard to define accurately.

Different people will have different opinions. For some, using money to speculate on the outcome of any future event, no matter how obvious the outcome might be, constitutes gambling.

By this strict definition, an employer provided retirement plan that hopes to grow an employee’s contributions by investing in stocks and bonds is a form of gambling.

Other people would claim that applying skill and technology to uncertain events changes the activity from gambling into something else, a contest of skill. This claim is at the heart of the controversy going on in the United States over whether or not the operations of fantasy sports operators Draft Kings and Fan Duel are gambling or if they are exercises in skill. Millions of dollars are at stake as the various states attempt to make a determination, since online gambling is illegal in the United States. Several states have declared that Draft Kings and Fan Duel really are gambling websites and have prohibited the companies from accepting customers residing in those states.

The lack of consensus leads to a question. Are bookmakers gambling when they accept bets from punters?

They do risk losing money, so by that criterion, the answer is, yes. There are several factors, however, that make the answer, no.

Mark Morrissey big bookie

The chief one of these is that bookmakers charge a fee on every transaction, so that fee reduces punters’ wins. The fees are small, but amalgamated over thousands and millions of wagers of all sizes, those fees alone form the basis for a profitable business.

Secondly, since the bookmakers will be involved in both sides of a wagering event, they can use the wagers collected from losing punts to pay winning punts.

Finally, in what can only be described as less than proper form, bookmakers can and do limit the size and amount of wagers they will accept, effectively placing obstacles in the path of a punter who seems to win a little too frequently. There are also, incredulously, incidents where bookmakers will refuse to pay winning punts, although one would be hard pressed in the extreme to find one who provided a refund for a losing punt.

With the first two advantages working in the favour of bookmakers, it seems patently unfair that they could or would engage in the third, but it is not hard to find copious examples and hard evidence that they do.

The distinction between gambling that relies on luck exclusively and that which involves elements of skill and science is at the heart of the discussion. Money won gambling in Australia is exempt from taxation, which is a major attraction to big punters such as Zeljko Ranogajec, who has managed to avoid, for a period of 25 years, having his extensive wagering activities classified as a business, and thus subject to taxation.

One possible strong conclusion is that the word “gambling” is impossible to define unambiguously, so everyone is entitled to his or her preference.

Back to Mark Morrissey, in the topsy-turvy world of betting of all kinds and online betting in particular, he represents an infinitesimally small sample of people who have enjoyed consistent and phenomenal success at racing and sports wagering. At the time of the Morning Herald article, he was serving as Executive Director in Australia for Unibet after he and Betchoice co-founder Colin Tidy sold to Unibet.

He left that position in November of 2015 with the ability to boast that never in his bookmaking career had he experienced a losing month and he at one time went three years without a losing week.  

Previously to his last role with Unibet, Morrissey listed his title as CEO and 40 percent shareholder of BetChoice Corporation. He lists that role as having lasted from July 2006 until February 2012, but he was active with the concern from February of 2001, when he listed his role as co-founder and General Manager. It is fair to assume that during those 12 years covering the two different titles, he performed in essentially the same role. The sale of Betchoice to Unibet closed in 2013. According to Mark Morrissey, a key benefit to the plan, aside from the $20 million purchase price, was that the old operation, which had focused heavily on Morrissey’s racing experience, could now be positioned to offer more sports markets.

From March 1991 until January of 2001, he was Head of Trading for Australian Sportsbook, which he built for Bill Hurley. That entity was sold to Tabcorp and exists, at least for the moment, as the fixed-odds betting arm of Luxbet.

Mark Morrissey started out as the on-course Operations Manager for Sydney bookmaker Mark Read. Those who are wary of fancy titles describe the position as that of clerk, seemingly in a disparaging way. Morrissey describes the job as being the betting analyst who handled the punting and hedging part of the business. According to Morrissey, Mark Read at that time was not only a bookmaker, but the biggest punter in Australia as well, proving that our earlier attempt to define gambling and differentiate bookmaking is obviously both muddy and subjective.

As for his approach to dealing with Sean Bartholomew, Mark Morrissey is on record admitting that he prevents Bartholomew from being his largest client. He said something that you would not expect from a self-respecting bookie when he acknowledged that Bartholomew possessed a mathematical edge. He went on to say that he used Bartholomew’s exceptional form skill to benefit indirectly against other punters.

He rather unabashedly reveals that he will allow a punter to bet without limit provided that punter does not possess the skillset of punters such as Bartholomew.

Those who rail against what they perceive as unfairness on the part of bookmakers such as Morrissey and others are vocal in their criticism, but perhaps need to consider that the ultimate motive of any business is profit. A restaurant owner would be quick to banish a client who repeatedly dined at the establishment, ordering the most expensive fare, and then refusing to pay the tab with various claims of dissatisfaction. Business is no different for a bookmaker. A punter who wins excessively is bad for profits, hence bad for business.

The fact that Morrissey does allow Bartholomew to get set with him is a testament to Mark Morrissey’s devil-may-care attitude that seems reminiscent of something 1950s big plunger “Hollywood” George Edser was heard to say. “Money means nothing to me on a racecourse. I forget I have a family. If I have money I bet until every penny has gone.”

A typical day of Sean Bartholomew V Mark Morrissey Further Reading

Caulfield race 2 Sister Demon $536 $3.80 (collect $2,036.80)
Morphetville race 2 Hucklebuck $10,000 $1.35 (collect $13,500)
Rosehill race 3 All Cerise $5,000 $2.40 (collect $12,000)
Rosehill race 3 All Cerise $5,000 $2.35 (collect $11,750)
Rosehill race 4 Seaside $1,000 $2.60 (collect $2,600)
Caulfield race 4 Eqdaam $188 $9.00 (no return)
Rosehill race 5 Knight Exemplar $469 $4.20 (no return)
Rosehill race 5 Kencella $1,500 $3.00 (collect $4,500)
Caulfield race 5 La Venta $395 $4.80 (no return)
Caulfield race 5 La Venta $1,000 $4.20 (no return)
Rosehill race 6 Limes $7,143 $4.00 (no return)
Rosehill race 6 Limes $3,000 $2.90 (no return)
Doomben race 5 Excellantes $441 $4.40 (collect $1,940.40)
Rosehill race 7 Junoob $10,000 $2.60 (collect $26,000)
Rosehill race 7 Junoob $5,000 $2.60 (collect $13,000)
Rosehill race 7 Madam Nash $5,000 $5.50 (no return)
Rosehill race 7 Madam Nash $5,000 $5.50 (no return)
Caulfield race 7 Shamal Wind $200 $12.00 (collect $2,400)
Rosehill race 8 Reply Churlish $375 $5.00 (no return)

Mark Morrissey’s similar quotation, “I’d like to think I’m a fearless bookmaker, but it’s just a combination of repetitive conditioning and a lack of respect for money,” does seem like words that should come out of a punter’s mouth rather than a bookmaker, but it will require time to see if he avoids the pattern of winding up destitute that has been the fate of many who have preceded him.