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Cascade in the News

Bookies in Exile
By WILLIAM BERLIND (NYT)
Published: August 17, 2003
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Among the bookmakers K.C. encountered when he first moved down
to Costa Rica was L.R., at Cascadesportsbook.com, a small operation
formed in 1996. L.R. is a stocky, soft-spoken man. Like many
of the bookmakers, he's fond of wearing athletic warmup gear, though
he doesn't exercise much or play ball. His life is about
bookmaking.
Cascade's no-frills offices reflect L.R.'s character. The firm is situated
in a colorless, two-story building on the side of a ravine some 20 minutes
outside San José. As you enter, a sleepy guard in a worn blue
uniform points you up a flight of stairs. There are two rooms with slatted
windows looking out across a cracked road on a stand of thin, dusty pine trees;
fast-food wrappings hang in the nettles. Occasionally a truck will rumble
by spewing diesel exhaust, but aside from that it's quiet. Cascade's
offices consist of two rooms, a small back office and a larger room connected
to it. In the larger room there are 10 or so rows of long, straight desks
with computers on them, lending the place the air of a classroom.
Behind the computers local employees sit on mismatched office chairs fielding calls from gamblers and tracking the bets being placed over
the Internet,which now accounts for 30 percent of Cascade's business.
(The remaining volume is still conducted over the phone.)
When I arrived one Saturday afternoon at the end of the college basketball
season, the office was half full. L.R. was seated at the front of the large
room on a foot-high rise. Known as ''the stage,'' a feature common to
nearly every sports book, this is where the head oddsmaker monitors all
the action.
There are seven large TV's suspended from the ceiling above the stage
anda few smaller ones on the desk tuned to games in progress or to ESPNews.
L.R. arrives at his office at 7 in the morning to enter his lines for that
day's games on his site. He has spent the previous night and the early morning
studying the games being played that day, speaking with the sources and handicappers
in the United States who help him decide how to shade his
lines. To do it right, he has to keep track of an impossible number of details,
things like whether Marquette's star guard has recovered from his ankle sprain
Sites that expect to do significant business have no choice but to offer a
huge range of games, even obscure college match-ups that would never
be shown on national television. A professional shop requires a minimum
capital base of about $1 million to cover overhead and keep the lights
on during a losing streak.
Bookmakers make their money by extracting a percentage out of every bet being
made, which is called the vigorish or ''the juice.'' That means the gambler
has lost 10 percent of his bet regardless of whether he wins or loses.
If the bookie can win 50 percent of the games (which if he sets his lines
right, he should be able to do), he'll break even on the betting, clear
the 10 percent for each one, and, after expenses, eke out a profit of
about 3 percent.
With such a relatively small margin, the key to the business is volume.
And that's why the Internet is so useful. With the power to receive
scores and other game information instantly, on-line bookmakers
can generate extra
betting volume by offering a tantalizing variety of propositions - the total
points scored in each quarter of basketball and football games and in each
inning of baseball games. There are even lines offered for specific achievements,
like, will Allen Iverson score 30 points, or will Keyshawn Johnson be
the first person to score in the Super Bowl.
Around 11 a.m. gamblers back in the United States start making
their bets. Bookmakers use a point spread to equalize unevenly
matched teams. Football,
college and pro, generates the greatest action. Basketball is also popular.
Based on how much betting action he receives for each team,
the bookmaker then adjusts his spread. For instance, if his
bettors are heavily betting the favorite
team, he'll adjust his line to give more points to the underdog, in order
to attract betting on the underdog. His objective always is
to maintain approximately
50 percent of the gross betting action on either side of the game.
If he does this, then no matter the result of the game, he
takes his 10 percent cut. While the gambler
tries to figure out weaknesses in point spreads
- games where the bookmaker may have misjudged the strengths
of the teams or is unaware of a critical injury - the bookmaker's
job is to anticipate how the public is going to bet and adjust his
line up or down to split betting action on both sides of the line.
(Once a bet is placed at a particular spread, that number holds for
that bettor, even if the spread subsequently moves.)
Every sports book has its own personality, formed by the number
and type of gamblers it attracts and the manner in which it
moves its line. Cascade's gamblers
range from small-time guys making $50 bets to professional gamblers betting
$10,000 on 10 different games - the latter type attracted to Cascade, in
part, because L.R. is regarded as one of top bookmakers offshore.
As the bets roll in, L.R. watches two things. One window on
his computer is open to Cascade's back-end software, which
tracks all the bets and the gamblers who
make them. Each of Cascade's gamblers has a profile, with a betting history and
personal information, which flashes onscreen when the bettor places a bet. Another
window on L.R.'s screen is open to DonBest.com, a subscription service that
is like the Bloomberg of sports betting. On DonBest.com, many of the prominent
offshore sports books, including Cascade, show their lines in real time.
When a book changes its line, it is immediately registered on DonBest.com. It's
a way for bookies and serious bettors to keep tabs on the lines that sports books
are offering for a particular game. While L.R. and I were talking, a bet came
in to one of the employees in the pen. ''Lafayette for five dimes,'' she shouted
out. L.R. quickly glances at the screen to see who was making the bet. ''Twelve
point five,'' he said reflexively. ''And that's it.''
What had transpired was this: the University of New Orleans
was playing a basketball game against the University of Louisiana
at Lafayette that afternoon, and most
of the books on DonBest.com, including Cascade, had Lafayette favored by
12.5 points.
When to move a line is a point of great philosophical debate
among bookmakers. According to traditional bookmaking practice, a
bookmaker only moves his line on the basis of a bet that has come in. After bookmakers
receive a big bet, they will typically adjust their line to try and draw action
for the other side of the game. By letting the betting determine the line,
a bookie should, theoretically, be able to maintain his 50/50 split and preserve
his profit margin. But frequently, bookies move their lines for other reasons-
for example, when a well-regarded sports book has moved its line on DonBest.com,
a practice known as ''moving off air.'' Or they might do it because they
have a particular bias or hunch about a game, in which case they're essentially
throwing their 3 percent margin out the window and gambling with their
own money.
L.R. tends not to operate this way, and in the case of New
Orleans versus Louisiana Lafayette, he was simply waiting for
a solid bet before moving his line. And
then it came. A guy sitting behind a computer screen somewhere in the United
States wanted to put $5,000 on New Orleans and take the 12.5 points.
L.R. accepted the bet and changed his line to 12. He cut
the guy off from making any more bets on the old line.
L.R. suspected it might be a
professional gambler, so he was being particularly careful. The bookmaker
and the professional sports bettor, known in the business as a ''sharp,''
are engaged in a constant game of cat and mouse. Average bettors don't put
much
thought into their bets, often betting on their alma mater or home team,
regardless of the spread. But sharp sports bettors make their living by
constantly trolling for weak lines. The sharp holds the advantage over the bookie
in this because his sources usually run deeper than the bookmaker's, sometimes
even into the inner sanctum of a professional or collegiate team, like a
team doctor or an assistant coach. More important, the sharp can be selective. While
the bookmaker has to put up a line on every game -- on this Saturday there
were more than 100 college basketball games, along with a golf tournament
and a tennis tournament -- the sharp gambler carefully chooses the
game he bets on. It takes just one nugget of inside information on
some obscure game between, say, Alabama A&M and the University
of Arkansas at Pine Bluff, to give a sharp the advantage he needs.
And while all sports books have limits on the amount of money a single
gambler can bet, usually between $3,000 to $10,000, depending on the
sport, the professional gambler can easily exceed these limits by using a ''syndicate,''
or a crew of ''beards,'' who have accounts at multiple offshore sports
books and spread bets around for him.
Because of the high-risk nature of the business, and because
of the tremendous amounts of money the Internet allows bookmakers
to traffic in, a herd mentality has developed among bookmakers.
When one sports book on DonBest.com
changes his line, it doesn't take long for the others to follow suit. And
this is what happened after L.R. moved his line on the New
Orleans game to 12.
Cascade's line for the game flashed red at 12 on DonBest.com.
Immediately several other books on DonBest.com changed their
lines from 12.5 to 12.
L.R. and every other bookie in Costa Rica go through rituals
like this hundreds of times a day, microscopic dramas that
run morning to night. It's precision
work, requiring a superhuman ability to process reams of information all
at once. By 10 or 11 at night - when the West Coast games finally start -
the day's betting is done and L.R. goes off into the
night with hundreds of thousands of dollars riding on a hundred college basketball
games and the 19-year-old kids who play them.
