The Big Deal of TV Betting Nostalgia

I know that people tend to wax lyrical about ‘their day’ in whatever aspect of their lives they look back fondly on. Evidently writing this I’m no different. For me, it was when I first became involved with betting and ventured into the mysterious lure that lay behind the green and blue streamers of the bookies on Gold Street.

I turned 18 in 1983 but as I suspect many others did I had an illicit taste of punting before I was strictly legally allowed. It tasted as equally as good as that pre-legal pint did. It probably saved me from some terrible hangovers too as I was never as flush as I was before I discovered the joys of a Yankee. I worked in a poultry processing plant at the time we got paid in cash and knocked off work at lunchtime on Fridays. I expect the local bookie rubbed his hands together we I came in with my wages, and for good reason, but that’s a tale for another day.

What I really remember about the time was the great TV that added ambiance to the dubious romance of betting shops, bookmakers and the appeal of the ever so slightly rakish.

We were treated to a drip feed of three classic TV series where the young and impressionable were introduced to the murky world of back street pubs, slightly iffy characters and bookie slang. The first appeared in 1979 and was the classic ‘Minder’. Now Arthur Daley wasn’t a racing, or even a regular betting man. But he looked like he ought to be, he had the clobber, the trilby and the amber-Crombie with velvet collar. He may not a have been a gentleman of the turf but he skirted the peripheries and sometime got stuck right in. There was an episode where Terry, Arthur’s minder, had to guard a racehorse, another where he had to protect a high stakes bookie and a real cracker, ‘Sorry Pal, Wrong Number’ where Arthur starts a dodgy tipping service run out of three phone boxes.

Whatever the episode Arthur talked of monkeys, grands and everyone was punter. As the song said, ‘A little dodgy maybe, but underneath’, he was alright. Who didn’t want to have a VAT with him at the Winchester Club?

The second of the golden trio was and still is probably the greatest of them all. ‘Only Fools & Horses’. Now this one, although totally hilarious and of its time has pretty much zero to do with horses or bookmaking but it was set in that world that Daley and Terry would be at home in. Del Boy, a Silver Ring version of Arthur but held in exactly the same affection as his ‘up-market’ TV competitor. I must admit that for the last 37 years I thought that in the theme song they were singing about ‘Bookie Street’ and not in actual fact ‘Hookie Street’. I often wondered why there were no bookmakers in the show despite singing about them over the opening credits. Shows what I know, I never was that sharp, hence the bookie rubbing his hands on a Friday. Of course this clip never gets boring.

Finally, and my personal favourite. The short-lived one of the trio, running from 1984 to 1986, Big Deal. Now Big Deal was the real deal. I was over the moon when I read that there was going to be a new TV series which featured the adventures of a professional gambler. I read about these mystical people, mainly from adverts selling tips in the Sporting Life but hadn’t actually clapped eyes on one. When eagerly tuned in for the first episode of Big Deal I have to admit to being a little disappointed at the ‘homely’ Ray Brooks’ ‘Robby Box’. In my mind’s eye professional punters dressed like Arthur Daley and drove Bentleys to racecourses, they didn’t look like ‘Curley’ as a bookmaker referred to him in the opening scenes of that first episode. Of course I soon warmed to Robby, his portrayal of vulnerability shrouded a sharp mind and steely courage when it was called upon.

It wasn’t just about Robby Box though, his supporting cast of hapless punters could have been plucked from any betting shop of the time. They were superbly observed, habitual but also big hearted losers taking on the stereotypical miserly bookmaker, Gil. His empire, a betting shop that hadn’t been changed since it opened in the 1960’s with commentary crackling from a speaker system that needed a whack with a broom, usually at a pertinent part of a race. The betting shop scenes are a final snapshot of a time when those one man bookies were being snapped up by the big four and already a dying breed. There are partial memories of lots of 30 episodes but one classic is ‘Luck Of The Irish’ where the betting shop pals try and raise funds for their recently departed mate ‘Irish’- by winning it, off Gil of course. It’s a cracker and now on YouTube:

It was the 1980s, there was excitement and a way out of menial labour drudgery to be had watching those classic TV shows. The joy of them really was that your own real life characters, the chance of a big win, the sport of kings and a whole new world lay just behind that door and those fluttering blue and green streamers. That world was your oyster, you could make your own luck and write your own stories, who needed the telly.

I for one couldn’t wait to dive in head first.

Simon Nott