of us don’t think of Tom Ainslie as one of the Godfather’s of pace and
speed, but he laid down a few good licks. I have a first edition, dog-eared
copy of Andy Beyer’s “Picking Winners,” with Andy on the cover,
looking like he’s cutting his Harvard economics class at Suffolk Downs.
That book is one of my prized possessions, and when I pulled it off
the shelf recently, I was surprised to find another prize inside the
front cover: a folded, yellowed, copy of tables from pages 116 and 117
of “Ainslie On Jockeys.”
had completely forgotten the paper and the book it came from, but immediately
remembered placing it there for “retirement,” when my speed handicapping
moved on from such tables to calculators and computers. I had a sentimental
attachment to that piece of paper. It made me a lot of money.
of the flukes of my introduction to handicapping, first cutting classes
myself at BU for Suffolk Downs, then later doing the same thing at Santa
Fe, was that I could never seem to buy a Form before getting
to the track. I don’t mean that I was forgetful—I could not
buy a stinking Form. It was probably a lucky stroke, because
I spent a lot of time watching horses before I had a clue about figures.
Somewhere along the line I found a copy of “Ainslie On Jockeys”
in the library and after carrying that page with me to the track a couple
of times, I became a figure fanatic.
other lucky stroke was that, at that time (early ‘70s), the crowd at
Santa Fe Downs was probably the dumbest in the country. There was a
large “Horseman’s Section,” where I sometimes sat and chewed straws
with friends who, on other days, I galloped horses for on the sandy
Rio Grande bottom, and we hauled in occasionally for a race; and there
was the stroller section, with three-generation-family outings and little
girls in Communion dresses. There was not a “wise guy” within 1,500
miles of this place. If you handicapped with anything other than silk
colors, it usually paid double digits.
I rarely could get a Form in advance, I would carry that piece
of paper with its two tables from Ainslie’s book, one for sprints and
one for routes, and do the figuring while I sat on the cement steps
by the paddock between races, often with my own kid sitting next to
me in a stroller. (I thought at the time he was watching the “horsies,”
but he’s now a financial wizard, so maybe the kid was making odds.)
Here is a small portion of Ainslie’s table for sprints:
distances went to out to 7 furlongs, and the ratings down to 65. For
the routes table, the first rating was at ¾ mile for distances from
1 mile to 1 ¼ mile.
calculated a combined rating by adding the ½ (or ¾) rating to the final
rating for the distance, using fifths-of-a-second for lengths and adding
or subtracting rating points. This was done with “key race” past performances
(unfortunately not defined on those two pages, so I can’t tell you what
he had in mind). What you ended up with were rudimentary pace figures
to compare horses with figures like 286, 279, etc.
played around with these tables a couple of times—then realized they
were dynamite. Rudimentary “pace” paid. So did Ainslie’s
mention of the fact that different tracks run differently. I soon had
figures for all of the tracks on the regional shipping circuit and added
my own tables and conversion factors. Life was good. I started getting
really crabby about not being able to buy a Form in advance.
was about when I found Beyer’s book, “Picking Winners.” I can’t
remember being that excited before by a book that didn’t have centerfolds.
Halfway through the book, where Beyer says, “The most difficult part
of speed handicapping is making the commitment to learn it,” he was
already preaching to the choir.
enough, now that “The Beyers” are published, that statement is still
you could simply bet the highest published Beyer, all odds would be
“on,” and all value would evaporate. The value in speed handicapping—like
all successful approaches to the game—is found by people who are willing
to work for it.
fairly decent speed figures available to the public for every thoroughbred
past performance is a significant pain in the neck. However, it didn’t
turn out to be the advent of doom I originally expected—mainly because,
as usual, I over-estimated the human condition. My first reaction was,
“Aw, jeez, I just spent my life working out really good speed figures;
now Beyer is going to publish his; the public will have “figs;”—my odds
will be down the toilet.” Ha.
it P.T. Barnum or one of the robber barons who said (approximately),
“Nobody ever went broke by under-estimating the American public”? There
were far more logical, and predictable outcomes of the advent of printed
outcome # 1: Large numbers of handicappers who previously labored
to make their own figures would stop.
outcome # 2: As a result of # 1—and the fact that few handicappers
will (can) read Beyer’s books (my estimation of the human condition
has diminished somewhat)—far fewer people understand the Beyers.
outcome # 3: The vast majority of people use speed figures incorrectly.
They are still “picking winners”—witness the public “piling on” favorites,
as discussed in earlier columns.
outcome # 4: Some “handicappers” will devote energies to creating
angle-formulas for “The Beyers” in isolation.
I admit I could not have predicted # 4 in advance. I’m not yet
as cynical as I want to be. But I do think it’s an absolute hoot!
Angle-shooters, who don’t have a clue how the figures are made, are
now making figures with the figures and marketing them to the
utterly lost. There will soon be an amendment to the Americans With
Disabilities Act to make it illegal to laugh at this, so I’m getting
my yuks in now.
predictable outcomes are what make it possible to continue to profit
by the effort of working with speed and pace figures today.
Beyers” are a fundamental element of handicapping today, since—whether
you use them for making selections or not—they are the single most powerful
factor in setting the public odds that you bet against. If you have
not read both “Picking Winners,” and “Beyer On Speed,”
you should. I am going to hit only the high points in these columns,
emphasizing things that have always interested me, so you should see
the unbiased version in Andy’s own words.
order to make any speed figure, you must have some “base point” to compare
against. A major sea change for speed figures occurred when Beyer and
others moved away from using track records, or averages of fastest times
achieved at a track over several years. Instead, Beyer and others observed
that higher classes of horses ran faster on the average than lower classes,
and they developed Class-Par Times.
have to read another book, “Handicapping Speed,” to get the full
low-down but, to cut to the chase: I could not get these darned things
to work on my circuit and had to come up with a different way to deal
with speed. Next week, we’ll look at the Class-Par Hierarchy, and how
the world-at-large takes the first step in making ‘da figs.