Harness racing driver “tells” still happen. Since they happen less frequently, and most bettors are playing online, I can let the cat out of the bag. But first, let’s talk about handicapping drivers.
Hall-Of-Fame driver, Mike Lachance was one of the best. I read in a recent interview where Lachance downplayed his skills by talking about the lack of competition he faced. To that end, I can only add bingo! bango! bongo!
Making money betting on the harness races was so much easier then, than it is now due to the great disparity between drivers in the past. Driving strategies notwithstanding, the weaker drivers had issues just making their horses move forward. The weaker drivers were done whenever they had to race first over. You could bet massive driver changes with confidence, even if the horse showed no form.
My three favorite driver-change stories. The first one goes back almost 60 years, and George Sholty was the most amazing half-mile track driver on the planet. I can still remember the name of the horse, Leica Childs. The horse had been driven every week by his trainer. Except for Bill Haughton and Stanley Dancer who were in a different time zone from other trainer/drivers, you could assume that a change in the bike from trainer to catch driver might mean multiple seconds. And Leica Childs was picking up the most amazing driver of the 1960s.
The horse had no speed, and was from the 7-post. That should have sealed his doom, but now “Sholtz” as he was known in the big apple, was in the bike. He would figure it out. One idiosyncrasy of Sholty was how much he hated being wide on turns. Even when Yonkers had the short stretch, he would wait until the turn was over before tipping wide with a closer – and how his horses would fly down the stretch.
In this race, Sholty does not leave the gate, and Leica Child was dead last in 8th place as they passed the three-eighths pole. The front runner was backing down the half, and three horses pulled off the rail before Sholty could tip. But as they hit the straightaway after the paddock turn, Leica Childs was launched from last in a 3-wide burst in front of a stunned grandstand. Leica Childs was first – on the rail – as they entered the clubhouse turn. I have never seen anyone else do that. What a move! Needless to say, the horse was done when they hit the stretch, and Sholty went to work. How he carried that horse across the finish line in victory was something I will never forget.
My second favorite driver-change story. It was my one and only trip to Wheeling Downs and there was a driver change from a driver who was unknown to me, to a different driver that was unknown to me. The horse was also unknown to me, but I bet with confidence. What did I know? The driver who had been driving the horse was the trainer, and I checked the program and saw his new driver was a regular. He paid $50. Sweet.
The final story is unique. It was a driver change from Hall-Of-Famer Carmine Abbatiello to Frank Popfinger. Say what? While Popfinger was good (I had used him to drive my horses), I did not believe he was better than Carmine. So, what’s the story? The mare was Mindian. For my time playing the horses, she was the definitive pocket rocket. She could beat horses out of the pocket that she could never beat with any other trip. Frank Popfinger was her regular driver, until he was suspended for “alleged” driving crimes. I believe the suspension was 6 months.
Abbatiello became her regular driver and recent form was not good. This race was on Popfinger’s first day back from suspension. I was confident he would remember how to drive her. All day long, I was telling people that this would be the biggest win betver made. No I ebody I told, bet the horse. I remember my friend Harvey telling me I was lucky after she won. “But I told you Popfinger would make her lucky.” Popfinger was masterful the way he maneuvered the horse into the two hole. She won at 17-1.
I could go on ad infinitum on stories of driver changes back in the day, but that won’t help you cash a ticket today. Trainers rarely drive their own horses (at tracks where I wager) anymore. Except for the amateur races, it is rare to find a driver change that piques my interest. Horses moving from amateurs to regular drivers should always be given top consideration, regardless of form.
You should also look at who drives horses in qualifying races. If you see a horse qualifying with its trainer or a beginner (identified by something like QUA HD) which tells you the driver’s experience is negligible, expect improvement. There is an extra benefit to the horse when the trainer qualifies it. The trainer can learn more about the horse by sitting behind it in a race (the horse does not know that it is a qualifying race) than can be learned in training sessions.
As for today’s top drivers, I can only add some of their driving peculiarities, because I rarely change my wager because one top driver moves to another on a particular horse. Driver choices are all but irrelevant to me on horses that race regularly. Even worse, the new “young guns” have learned their craft quickly and cannot be disregarded in any race. I won’t list any of them, because I would omit too many young drivers who can get the job done. The driver change angle is pretty much “the glory of another day.”
Of the top drivers, my knowledge is mostly based on those who race in the New York metro area. There are more than ten drivers who I play with confidence. I find that Tim Tetrick makes the least mistakes. Dexter Dunn loses too many races by being too aggressive, which seems counter intuitive since he is a master at waking up a horse that seems to be going nowhere. Gingras is the best at keeping the rail closed when there is no passing lane. David Miller seemed to lose it in early 2023, but he went on to have a great year with some magical drives. As for the rest, their win percentages tell the story. As I write this, Andy McCarthy es en fuego (is on fire).
And now the tells. A “tell” is a poker term that refers to a player acting differently, based on the player’s belief in the quality of the hand being held. I remember sitting at a poker table in Atlantic City one day when the player next to me had both hands over his mouth in an attempt to hide his emotions. The flop comes, and I see question in his eyebrows. He was not sure what to do. He calls. On the turn, the brows furrow. Not happy. Was it a mistake to stay in the hand? He calls. On the river, the hands over his mouth are still, but the eyebrows raise. I look at the card that fell, and it seems clear that our friend just pulled an inside straight. He sure did.
Drivers have no idea about their tells. I pretty much see nothing with the current cadre of top drivers. They are driving in most races, and if they have “poker faces” more power to them. Some years ago, I was chatting regularly online with a horseplayer from the Buffalo region, and we decided to get together at some central point. Pocono Downs seemed like the best choice. The first thing he starts talking about is the drivers from Buffalo who telegraph their “opinions” of their horses’ chances in the post parade. Son of a gun if it was not the exact same movements I witnessed at the tracks in the New York City metro area.
Guys, who do you think you are fooling when you look underneath the horse during the post parade after the announcer identifies you? Consciously or subconsciously, you are trying to send a message that there is something wrong with your horse. It tells the observant horseplayer exactly the opposite. The two most helpful drivers through the years were Jim Marshall III and Richie Silverman. Many other drivers sent the same message, but those two were the most rewarding. Then there are the drivers who execute what I call, the pee-pee dance. They move around in the sulky so much that they look like they cannot wait for the race to be over so that they can visit the nearest urinal. However, emptying their bladders is not foremost in their minds.
Then there are the tote board peekers. Some drivers actually stare. But here, you have to know your drivers. Young drivers may only be interested in seeing how much love they are receiving. Some may just be curious, while others want to see how much they expect to win. Learn to identify those folks. Expecting to win does not mean will win.
I don’t care how much they tell me that they expect to win. If I don’t think they have a chance, I will not play them. But it does tell me that they intend to be aggressive, and that may even point me to a horse who I believe will benefit from that aggressiveness. Here’s an angle that has paid off numerous times. If the horse is coming off a poor qualifier, and the driver who qualified him is now driving the horse, and said driver exhibits a tell… hoochie mama.
Power to the punter.
by Gil Winston, for Harnesslink