Pony dashing is something like a religion in Hong Kong, whose residents wager more than any other person on Earth. Their church is Happy Valley Racecourse, whose verdant oval track and floodlit stands are ringed around evening time by one of the game’s most fantastic perspectives: neon high rises and slick piles of tall structures, a star grouping of enlightened windows, and past them, lavish slopes outlined in murkiness.
On the night of Nov. 6, 2001, all of Hong Kong was discussing the greatest big stake the city had ever observed: at any rate HK$100 million (at that point about $13 million) for the victor of a solitary wager called the Triple Trio. The bet is similar to a trifecta of trifectas; it expects players to anticipate the best three ponies, in any request, please check the link สล็อตxo in three distinct warms. In excess of 10 million mixes are conceivable. At the point when nobody picks effectively, the prize cash turns over to the following arrangement of races. That soothing November night, the pot had gone unclaimed multiple times over. Around a million people put down a wager—proportionate to 1 of every 7 city occupants.
At Happy Valley’s ground level, young ladies in lager tents passed frothy pitchers to snickering expats, while the neighborhood Chinese, for whom betting is a progressively genuine undertaking, gripped hustling papers and hung over the handrails. At the break of the starter’s gun, the host’s voice rang out over amplifiers: “Last leg of the Triple Trio,” he yelled in Australian-highlighted English, “and away they go!”
As the pack roared around the last twist, two ponies ripped ahead. “It’s Mascot Treasure a length in front, yet Bobo Duck is gunning him down,” said the commentator, voice rising. “Bobo Duck in front. Mascot retaliating!” The group thundered as the riders dashed over the end goal. Bobo Duck edged Mascot Treasure, and Frat Rat came in third.Over the street from Happy Valley, 27 stories up, two Americans sat in an extravagant office, overlooking a live feed of the activity that played mutely on a TV screen. The main sound was the murmur of twelve PCs. Bill Benter and a partner named Paul Coladonato had their eyes fixed on a bank of three screens, which showed a lattice of wagers their calculation had made on the race—51,381 on the whole.