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The Andycapper

If You Don't Know Who Andrew Beyer Is, You Probably Don't Bet on Horses
Michael Konik
From the Print Edition:
Demi Moore, Autumn 96

(continued from page 4)

He checks the tote board. The exacta pays $162 for a $2 bet. Beyer's ticket is worth more than $3,200.

For about 30 seconds.

The track announcer instructs the bettors to "hold all tickets." There's been a steward's inquiry. And it involves the five horse.

"I'm a jockey hater. No professional athletes have as poor a tactical understanding of their sport," Beyer grumbles. "The guy on the horse's back has no concept of your perfect diagnosis of a race. All he can do is sabotage you, which I'm afraid is about to happen."

After an excruciating 10-minute examination of the race tapes, the stewards conclude that the five horse swerved off its line near the finish, blocking the path of the charging number one. The five is disqualified.

 

"Damn," Beyer says quietly. "That would have made our day."

He does not fume long. There are other races to look at, other "opportunities" to consider. To Andrew Beyer, one day at the track does not make or break him; it's all one big game.

He begins to assess the next race when an adorable little girl, perhaps six or seven, costumed in a print dress and bonnet, approaches Beyer's table, presents a racing program and politely asks for his autograph.

"For my daddy," she says, shyly. "He says you're the best."


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