Given it's derby weekend, we thought we'd provide the shpere with a little carnal knowledge on an integral part of the weekend. You see, ever since the demise of internet gambling, betting on horseracing has become a bit trickier. Fortunately, while our righteous lawmakers consider it immoral to bet on human sports, there’s seems to be a loophole that we can freely blow our personal fortunes on sport, just as long as it includes the mistreatment of animals. To make a long story short, I am referring to the ability to go to the OTB (Off Track Betting) and lay down bets on horse racing. Manhattan is littered with OTBs and you know when one is near. There is an aura emanating from the OTB for at least a one block radius, or maybe it is the fog of 27 packs of cigarettes being smoked per hour. I’m not sure. Either way, a trip to the OTB is a cultural experience that I recommend to all, just not very often.
A trip to the OTB can be intimidating, so I will do my best to prepare any first timers for possible excursions for the next two races of the Triple Crown. First and foremost, there are various types of characters you will likely run into at the OTB:
The Grandpa – I call this individual the Grandpa, because he reminds me of the way things were with my own Grandpa. This is the guy usually sitting in the one random chair outside the OTB with his own ashtray. Much like at family reunions, my grandpa always had the best chair and nobody ever sat in it, even when he was in the kitchen or on the throne. He also had his own personal ashtray with cigarettes miraculously dangling a four inch ash at all times. It’s important to clarify that the Grandpa is not necessarily old, but garners respect and has his own chair. You get the idea. The Grandpa is at the top of the OTB food chain.
The Toadies – The toadies are part of the regular OTB circuit. These are the guys who act like it’s no big deal that it’s the Kentucky Derby. For them, it’s just another day at the office. These guys earned there nickname from the toadies in The Christmas Story. The toadies were the kids who thought they were really cool, because they got to hang around with Farkus. These guys like to act the part, but you can just sense they are waiting to see which horses the one or two gurus go with before they place their bets. The toadies dress like the stereotypical seedy gambler from the movies and basically just flip through magazines all day. I wouldn’t be surprised if these guys never actually bet, but rather preferred to just hang out and act tough.
The Mike Dexter – This is the guy who really has no clue what he is doing, but he comes in with his group of buddies, so he acts like he knows it all. Maybe, this guy has done this once before, but he is the kind of person who would pretend to know everything about quantum psychics if he thought his friends would be impressed. He’ll probably announce multiple times to the whole room that “Dude, Curlin’ is totally gonna kick ass. He looked great at the Bluegrass his last time out.” Clearly, he picks a favored horse and rattles off a factoid that he snagged from USA Today earlier in the day. By the way, he gets his name from Mike Dexter, the douche in the epic film, Can’t Hardly Wait. This is the guy who thinks he is the bomb, but in actuality, nobody can stand him.
The Psu-Psu-Pseudos – This is a staple at the OTB or any Sportsbook in Las Vegas. Yes, it’s the pack of usually 4, but up to 10 “dudes” in their mid-to-late 20’s, even early 30’s pretending to be high rollers. These guys roll into the OTB with the sole intent on placing a handful of $10-$20 wagers, including a “ballzy” $30 trifecta box. Yet, you’ll see these guys clenching their ticket in their lifeless hand as the race ensues as if they are holding a $2000 betting slip. And you’ll always know when they make pull off a $15 “across the board” winner, because they won’t shut up about it. Wait, did I just describe myself?
The Michael Jordan – These guys just know what they are doing. Customary profile is loafers with no socks, short khaki shorts. They are the big fish in the small pond filled with minnows…they are a whale, is more like it. They carry a paper tucked under one arm with their favorite handy-capping magazine in tow. We call them Jordan’s because they are strictly business and their intent is for a hefty wager, but they rarely have the lock picks. In essence they are degenerates in disguise. You can’t hide behind a cigar…we see through you.
The Girlfriends – Guys, bring your girlfriends at your own risk. Keep in mind that the guys who frequent the OTB don’t see a whole lot of these "girl" things. The OTB regulars will do everything in their power to start up conversations to show off their horseracing prowess to your ladies. Next thing you know, the poor girls are wrapped up in long-winded diatribes about the trainers, their stables, and the condition of the mud in Louisville. Undoubtedly, the girls will respond with a comment like, “Ooooh, that one has cat in the name. I love cats.”
The Preston Winchester III – These guys are the worst. This is the guy who rolls in and wants to make a show of how much money he is about to bet. This guy has seen the derby on TV and thinks it is a fashion show and that his Derby party in the Upper East Side is going to be “the” place to be on Saturday. So, he needs to roll into his party with OTB tickets showing big money bets. Little does he know, half of the people in the OTB would probably follow him out and slit his neck if they wouldn’t miss the race in order to do it.
In addition to familiarizing yourself with the cast of characters, you will need to know how to place a bet. The best advice I can tell you is use the automated machine. The OTB is a scary place and you will be made to feel inferior in every way possible when you go to the counter. Granted, if you go to the automated machine, you have about a 15% chance of placing the bet you actually intended, but you do not have to expose yourself to the humiliation of being embarrased by the OTB henchmen. Plus, when you bet with the automated machine, you can come back and insert your tickets to check if you won. Believe me, if you are inexperienced with the OTB, there is a solid chance that you will not know if and how much you won. This is a good thing.
I hope this little tutorial inspires everyone to go out and blow some money. Considering the fact that I took Hard Spun and my girlfriend had Street Sense in the Kentucky Derby, there’s some pride waiting over at the OTB and it has my name on it. Until next time, D-Gens. Out.Subscribe to us
A trip to the OTB can be intimidating, so I will do my best to prepare any first timers for possible excursions for the next two races of the Triple Crown. First and foremost, there are various types of characters you will likely run into at the OTB:
The Grandpa – I call this individual the Grandpa, because he reminds me of the way things were with my own Grandpa. This is the guy usually sitting in the one random chair outside the OTB with his own ashtray. Much like at family reunions, my grandpa always had the best chair and nobody ever sat in it, even when he was in the kitchen or on the throne. He also had his own personal ashtray with cigarettes miraculously dangling a four inch ash at all times. It’s important to clarify that the Grandpa is not necessarily old, but garners respect and has his own chair. You get the idea. The Grandpa is at the top of the OTB food chain.
The Toadies – The toadies are part of the regular OTB circuit. These are the guys who act like it’s no big deal that it’s the Kentucky Derby. For them, it’s just another day at the office. These guys earned there nickname from the toadies in The Christmas Story. The toadies were the kids who thought they were really cool, because they got to hang around with Farkus. These guys like to act the part, but you can just sense they are waiting to see which horses the one or two gurus go with before they place their bets. The toadies dress like the stereotypical seedy gambler from the movies and basically just flip through magazines all day. I wouldn’t be surprised if these guys never actually bet, but rather preferred to just hang out and act tough.
The Mike Dexter – This is the guy who really has no clue what he is doing, but he comes in with his group of buddies, so he acts like he knows it all. Maybe, this guy has done this once before, but he is the kind of person who would pretend to know everything about quantum psychics if he thought his friends would be impressed. He’ll probably announce multiple times to the whole room that “Dude, Curlin’ is totally gonna kick ass. He looked great at the Bluegrass his last time out.” Clearly, he picks a favored horse and rattles off a factoid that he snagged from USA Today earlier in the day. By the way, he gets his name from Mike Dexter, the douche in the epic film, Can’t Hardly Wait. This is the guy who thinks he is the bomb, but in actuality, nobody can stand him.The Psu-Psu-Pseudos – This is a staple at the OTB or any Sportsbook in Las Vegas. Yes, it’s the pack of usually 4, but up to 10 “dudes” in their mid-to-late 20’s, even early 30’s pretending to be high rollers. These guys roll into the OTB with the sole intent on placing a handful of $10-$20 wagers, including a “ballzy” $30 trifecta box. Yet, you’ll see these guys clenching their ticket in their lifeless hand as the race ensues as if they are holding a $2000 betting slip. And you’ll always know when they make pull off a $15 “across the board” winner, because they won’t shut up about it. Wait, did I just describe myself?
The Michael Jordan – These guys just know what they are doing. Customary profile is loafers with no socks, short khaki shorts. They are the big fish in the small pond filled with minnows…they are a whale, is more like it. They carry a paper tucked under one arm with their favorite handy-capping magazine in tow. We call them Jordan’s because they are strictly business and their intent is for a hefty wager, but they rarely have the lock picks. In essence they are degenerates in disguise. You can’t hide behind a cigar…we see through you.The Girlfriends – Guys, bring your girlfriends at your own risk. Keep in mind that the guys who frequent the OTB don’t see a whole lot of these "girl" things. The OTB regulars will do everything in their power to start up conversations to show off their horseracing prowess to your ladies. Next thing you know, the poor girls are wrapped up in long-winded diatribes about the trainers, their stables, and the condition of the mud in Louisville. Undoubtedly, the girls will respond with a comment like, “Ooooh, that one has cat in the name. I love cats.”
The Preston Winchester III – These guys are the worst. This is the guy who rolls in and wants to make a show of how much money he is about to bet. This guy has seen the derby on TV and thinks it is a fashion show and that his Derby party in the Upper East Side is going to be “the” place to be on Saturday. So, he needs to roll into his party with OTB tickets showing big money bets. Little does he know, half of the people in the OTB would probably follow him out and slit his neck if they wouldn’t miss the race in order to do it.
In addition to familiarizing yourself with the cast of characters, you will need to know how to place a bet. The best advice I can tell you is use the automated machine. The OTB is a scary place and you will be made to feel inferior in every way possible when you go to the counter. Granted, if you go to the automated machine, you have about a 15% chance of placing the bet you actually intended, but you do not have to expose yourself to the humiliation of being embarrased by the OTB henchmen. Plus, when you bet with the automated machine, you can come back and insert your tickets to check if you won. Believe me, if you are inexperienced with the OTB, there is a solid chance that you will not know if and how much you won. This is a good thing.
I hope this little tutorial inspires everyone to go out and blow some money. Considering the fact that I took Hard Spun and my girlfriend had Street Sense in the Kentucky Derby, there’s some pride waiting over at the OTB and it has my name on it. Until next time, D-Gens. Out.Subscribe to us
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