It’s Not What You Know….. My Top Five Bookmakers

[dropcap]P[/dropcap]lease note that the bookmakers I give my opinion on, are bookmakers that I have had dealings with, on greyhound tracks, all in the south of England.

I am sure that you will all have your own favourites. Please accept my apologies in advance.

1.  George (the legend) Knight.

I first met George at Hackney Wick greyhound stadium in 1956, he was in his mid 20’s, I was 16.

George was a big man, well over six foot, weighing around twenty stone, he always had a smile on his face.

It was 1969 when I got involved with him. It was at Romford then Clapton then Walthamstow and finally at Wembley. (all these tracks, except Romford, have now gone including Hackney Wick pictured).

Why George?

Well over all the years with him on dog tracks I never once saw him flustered, lose his temper or get out of his stride.

His ability to go to a dog track with £10 in his pocket, to make a book, and keep his liabilities to £10 or less, was second to none.

George had a following of punters that came from all aspects of life. Some well to do, some middleclass, some working class and some of the biggest villains around.

At times he would go to the track which looked deserted but somehow any punters that were there found their way to George.

He knew his percentages as good as anyone but the asset that stands out more than any other bookmaker that I have known, was the ability to somehow know how much money he was going to take on a race. That, I think, was a gift.

George had one major problem, gambling! He would stay up night and day, just to gamble, sometimes two or three days at a time. When the dog meetings were over he would find somewhere to gamble. He would gamble on anything, rather strange for a man with his knowledge as he knew that the percentage was against him.

Fortunately, when he was with me I was able to control him when we were at the dogs.

There is one story I would like to tell you about George, it was at Clapton, early 1970s, just before it closed.

George was betting in the main enclosure, he had a share with a man called Bernie Dorras.

Bernie had a snooker hall and card club in Stoke Newington, where George ran a dice (craps) game on the snooker table.

But let’s get back to the story.

George had won on the first seven races, he was winning just over £2,000 (you could buy a house for that).

George proceeded to bet on the last race, going up against (making it a loser) the favourite.

The favourite won and George lost £2,200 on the race.

He and Bernie parted company on the dog track that night.

George continued to run the dice game at the club.

George died in his early 60’s, unfortunately he had never looked after himself, up most of the night gambling, hardly sleeping and eating food whenever he saw it.

But to me his legend lives on.

2. Tony (the professional) Morris

I first met Tony when i was five or six years old, he was about nine.

My father and Tony’s father (Ike) were school friends going back to the East End of London, where they went to a school in Christian Street, just off the Commercial Road.

They had stayed good friends all during their schooldays and kept in touch during and after the war.

After the war their friendship continued with Sunday teas at Uncle Ike’s house, or my father’s house.

Whenever we went to Uncle Ike’s house, he would play a game with us. Me, my two brothers and Tony. The game was to add 10 or 12 numbers up. Whoever won would get a shilling. You could get 12 penny bars of chocolate for a shilling at that time if you had the coupons. Everything was on ration in those days.

Ike would add up the sums in 3 seconds, Tony would take about 10 seconds, me and my 2 brothers would take between 15 and 20 seconds. We now know why Tony was so good with his percentages.

Tony, like George, had a following at the dogs. Wherever he made a book punters would follow him. Sometimes there were so many I wondered if he had a bus go and pick them up.

Without doubt Tony had the best business of any dog bookmaker I knew.

To see Tony on the dog track was as good as it got – always looking the ‘Beau Brummell’.

The story about Tony, I would like to tell, is when he was betting at White City.

He had a punter, whom I was told, was a Prince from the Middle East. He would have very large bets ranging from £1,000 to £5,000.

His bets were only with Tony, but here comes the catch. He would place in a envelope the amount of his bet with the number of the dog, seal the envelope, then give it to Tony who was not allowed to open the envelope until after the race.

Exciting !!

This went on for a couple of years then the Prince from the Middle East disappeared, maybe the oil well dried up?

Sadly Tony died in 2012, he would have had some stories to tell, that I would have loved to add to my book.

NEXT TIME: Find out who is 3,4 and 5 on my list.