Game, Set, Cash!

by Brad Hutchins

  This didn’t bother me much because I still had plenty of plans for the following year. We parted ways and I managed to explore Scandinavia, Russia and a lot of Europe’s lesser-known countries. I then travelled to Canada, where my love for surfing translated directly onto the powder-filled slopes of the Rockies. Snowboarding consumed my life, and I was content to live as a happy-go-lucky snow bum for the time being.

  *

  About a year later, while relaxing on my couch in the scenic ski town of Banff, Alberta, I had an epiphany. In approximately six months’ time, after I’d finished my season of snowboarding and completed an epic surfing road trip from British Columbia to the bottom of Mexico that two good friends and I had planned, I’d have to fly home and get a real job in the real world. This did not sit well with me. I’d been travelling for the best part of three years and had become accustomed to the surreal, stress-free lifestyle that drifting and adventure entailed. There was no way I was going back to full-time teaching in the sleepy suburbs of Brisbane. I’d seen too much, yet still hadn’t seen enough. I wanted to continue this vagabonding lifestyle and explore more of the world.

  The problem was, I was going broke. I had to work. That being the case, I decided I’d do everything I could to find myself a travel job. Working for a heli-ski lodge, on a cruise ship or as a tour guide were the initial ideas that popped into my head. Then the real epiphany hit me: the tennis job! It was perfect. I sent my friends an email asking if they could hook me up, crossed my fingers and continued snowboarding for the next few months.

  I then fell off the map completely after smashing my Canadian cell phone in a tequila-induced haze and taking off in a van for the land of sombreros, surf and … well, tequila. We surfed the west coast and crossed the border for hotter weather, cheaper, better food and bigger, better waves. Three months and ten thousand miles later, after seeing most of Mexico, Guatemala and Belize I was back in San Diego enjoying some Californian comforts and high-speed internet. I had an email from Felix, one of the boys from London. There was a job opening and he’d recommended me for the position. There were no promises but I had a good chance of getting the job. With one day remaining before I flew back Down Under, I couldn’t have been more stoked.

  I jumped on the plane home with high hopes, reunited with my family and friends, and waited for the phone to ring.

  *

  ‘Okay, I’ll give you a brief run-down of what we do.’ My future manager is on the phone from England. I’m at my family home in Brisbane, where I’ve been waiting for the past two weeks, jumping out of my skin and trying to hide the excitement in my voice at finally receiving this call. This is the phone interview. My mates have come through for me; I’ve basically got the job.

  ‘We gamble on tennis matches, point by point, in real time and send people out to these events to cover matches from the court-side. As one of our consultants, we will rely on you to provide accurate, quick scores so we can make consistent, successful bets. While you do have some long days at the beginning of the week, the workload gets easier as the week goes on. We communicate via text with you to monitor a player’s performance and all we really need apart from that is for you guys to be punctual and manage yourselves on the road in different countries. There’s no need to apply for work visas. I’m not sure whether our practice can be defined as work or not but it’s guaranteed to open up a can of worms if we mention it each time we touch down in a new country. Last time I checked there wasn’t a box you could tick on your immigration form for ‘borderline legal sports gambling’. So it will be your responsibility to organise tourist visas for places like China, India and Russia.’

  ‘Okay, sounds great,’ I reply, ‘I’ve got plenty of experience travelling, so that’s the easy part for me.’

  ‘Good to hear. Your wage will fluctuate depending on the syndicate’s success but we’ll also pay bonuses based on performance. On top of that, you will be able to claim food and travel expenses each day you work. I’ll also organise flights, hotels and tennis tickets for you.’

  ‘This sounds incredible,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, it is a great opportunity, but obviously the job isn’t for everybody as you need to be free from attachments and comfortable on the road for most of the year without going home. As flights to Australia are so expensive and time-consuming, it’s best if you use your weeks off to holiday in a destination of your choice closer to the tennis tournaments. Because you’ll work six days followed by a travel day, you won’t get weekends off. In lieu of this, we will aim to give you a week off every five or six weeks with a few of the other lads to keep you fresh. How does that sound to you?’

  Un-fucken-believable was the honest answer. I wasn’t sure that was suitable phone-interview etiquette so I didn’t say it in those words. I didn’t have a girlfriend at the time (perhaps the only downside to a travelling lifestyle), I had no other commitments and I was thirsty to see more of the world.

  ‘It sounds like the perfect life to me,’ I replied.

  ‘Great! Now the only real negative I’ve got to cover here is the occasional annoyance of run-ins with security. Unfortunately, the officials don’t want us at their events, and from time to time you may have to deal with them and even be ejected from the venue. Gambling is perceived as a threat to the integrity of the sport, and their solution is to ban us rather than confront the real issues. What you’ll be doing is not illegal. However, because you are transmitting live data, it falls outside the rules of the ticket purchase. This means they have the right to kick you out if they catch you. While it’s not an ideal situation for us, it’s just something we have to accept if we want to continue to operate.’

  I’d heard about this from the boys. I was cool with it. It sounded kind of amusing actually.

  ‘Yeah, that stuff doesn’t really faze me. It’s a shame we have to deal with it, but if it’s part of the job then that’s fine by me.’

  ‘All right, well I think we’ve covered everything. Any questions?’

  ‘Umm, hundreds, I’m sure, but none I can think of right now – it all sounds amazing to me.’

  ‘Okay, we’ll be in touch soon then.’

  ‘Thanks, bye.’

  Fist pumps, jumping and cheering ensued. A few days later, I opened my inbox to discover a job offer. I started on 2 January. The dream job was mine.

  *

  Yeah, you’d take it – anyone would! An expense account, flights, hotels, tickets and taxis paid for, a credit card, and a food allowance to boot. I was going to be paid to watch live sport and travel the world! The whole security issue was a bit strange, I had to admit, but, in the grand scheme of things, it barely came into consideration. So I took the job, enjoyed my final month of a sunny Australian summer and packed my bags once again for a whole different type of adventure.

  I’d heard the odd story from my mates about the job and its perks. I’d seen photos of beachside parties in Mexico and Thailand, and heard about loose nights out in Vegas. My knowledge of tennis was mediocre but I enjoyed the sport and was even looking forward to the work side of things. The major perk was the travel, though. I would be on the road for ten months straight and travel to over twenty different countries. I’d travelled a lot in the past but always on a budget; I couldn’t wait to live it up on an expense account.

  2

  THE MYSTERIOUS WORLD OF TENNIS TRADING

  My workmates were a group of Australian and English dudes in their mid-twenties who all loved sport, partying and travelling: the three main prerequisites for fitting into the trading lifestyle.

  Mono was a blonde Englishman with such alarmingly white eyebrows it looked like they’d been bleached. As a result, he seemed constantly surprised. He was also colour blind and had an amusing habit of wearing outfits of the same coloured clothes without realising it. Sometimes, we had to stop him from leaving the hotel in his monochrome outfits and
convince him to change before allowing him to step out into the public eye.

  Nads also hailed from the United Kingdom, and he was our main coordinator on the ‘back end’ (our base, from where all bets were calculated and placed). He was a cultured Londoner with a supreme love for live music. If there was a gig on in Europe, Nads not only knew about it but most likely had a fistful of tickets too. His job was to monitor our score updates and make sure the computer program placed bets effectively.

  Jethro and Felix completed the crew. They were the pair of fellow Aussies who’d scored me the job. Jethro was extraordinarily tall, and Felix wasn’t exactly a short-arse either. While walking through the tennis grounds together they were often mistaken for players and asked for autographs rather than being suspected as traders.

  We called each other ‘court-siders’ or ‘traders’ because, by transmitting live scores, we facilitated the practice of trading tennis matches online. Now I feel like it’s time for a quick trip to the classroom, because the question most people ask when I tell them about this job is ‘What is it you do exactly?’.

  Sports trading. It’s a very clandestine and hence exclusive occupation that most people have never heard of. Sports traders, not unlike their economically minded counterparts, follow the progress and performance of an ‘investment opportunity’ and trade this commodity as you would with something on the stock market. In our case, the ‘investment’ is generally an individual athlete or team. Hence the title ‘sports trader’. This business is facilitated by online gambling websites, which, as you may be aware, allow the public to gamble on almost any legal sporting event around the world in real time.

  People have been doing this ever since the turn of the millennium from the comfort of their homes. Some mathematically minded individuals eventually took their hobby to new (somewhat obsessive) levels by applying statistical data and algorithms to their gambling habits. By building a model or a system to gamble with, some of these people have enjoyed incredible success. This, however, takes time, patience and intelligence. Not to mention the capital required to test a system and ride a few bad losses if they happen to have a slow start.

  Due to the odd nature of this endeavour, few people actually attempt to take on the challenge full-time. Of those who try, not all are successful. However, those intelligent and persistent enough, with sufficient capital, can discover a way to turn a tidy profit with nothing but a few clicks of the mouse and taps of the fingers. These select few become their own bosses. They work the hours they want to, gamble as much money as they’re comfortable with and make smart bets when they see value in a situation – all from their favourite armchair. While they are self-employed success stories, they can’t win all of the time. Their system doesn’t have to, though. As long as they’re winning more than they’re losing, then they stay in the green. If they generate enough green to turn a respectable profit, and maintain a positive yield, they continue to work from home for themselves.

  When I say ‘system’ I’m talking about a calculated method for gambling. Each trader might operate under different rules or habits, but each system should be based on mathematics and statistics. It’s a numbers game, and there is no room for emotion or hunches. As soon as the score update comes through, traders will run the numbers, plugging them into a matrix, using software, algorithms or their own set of governing rules, and act immediately to make bets. Time is definitely money in trading. With the constant fluctuation of odds during ‘in-play’ gambling, the quicker you can act on information, the sooner you can take advantage of new odds that appear after each point is played. If you’re first to get the score updates, you’ll be first to take advantage of the odds.

  In gambling, no legal method can be foolproof. There is simply no way to guarantee wins all the time. The best you can hope for is a system that returns a high rate of success and curtails loss to a minimum. Tennis is an unpredictable game, and the most unusual or unexpected swings in momentum can occur at any time. Losses are inevitable. Having said that, tennis is also one of the most predictable sports in terms of its uniform scoring structure. This means it’s easy to predict odds in advance by knowing the possible outcomes that will unfold. A major difference between tennis and other sports is that tennis has no set time limit. There must be a result. Without the limitation of time, gambling becomes even more intricate. You have to know the players, understanding how they will respond to pressure, how they will perform in certain situations and locations, and their strengths, weaknesses and habits. This is where obsession comes in. The more you watch and learn, the better your understanding and skill will be when finding the delicate balance between using calculated odds and trusting your intuition of a player’s temperament.

  I want to clear up some popular misconceptions straight from the get-go. I never worked for Betfair, Bet365, the TAB, Sportsbet, Ladbrokes or any other bookies, the ATP, Sky Sports or any live-update website. I never even gambled from the court-side myself. I was simply the monkey hitting buttons. I worked for freelance gamblers and relayed live scores from tennis matches so my syndicate could place online bets. I was never involved with any large organisations and simply lucked into a rare position with a group of very clever and innovative professional gamblers.

  *

  Early in the year, I was given my schedule for the first six months. It’s a wonderful thing to look over a work roster that shows you travelling to locations such as Acapulco, Miami, Monte Carlo, Rome, Madrid and London – all in the space of a few months. After letting the initial excitement subside, I began mapping out sights to see and nearby friends I might get to catch. What famous attractions are there to tick off? Can I surf, snowboard, scuba-dive or wakeboard somewhere nearby? Where are the best bars in town and will any of my mates who live there be able to meet up and party on the weekend? It was the same basic thought process I went through every time I was heading to a new destination.

  *

  As fate would have it, my first stop turned out to be the least exotic of them all: Brisbane, Australia. My home town. I met the gang on the Monday morning and introduced myself to the few I had not yet met. Jethro then gave me my equipment for the year: two phones, five batteries, a few chargers, a travel adaptor and a couple of USB connections. I was ready to trade.

  *

  An hour later, I’m lying on the grass beside court two of the Brisbane International. It’s a relaxed tournament for both men and women, located about ten minutes’ drive from the city centre. The weather is hot and humid, and the venue is surrounded by greenery. I’m calm and optimistic as I settle into my first day of a new career. This phone feels foreign in my hand, and I’m trialling different ways to hold it without looking obvious. My old friend Jethro is showing me the ropes.

  ‘Keep your eye on that umpire,’ he says, pointing across the court. ‘She’s usually chilled but you can never be too careful.’

  Jethro’s been booted out more than anyone else on tour – it’s hard to fit in when you’re six foot eight. I’m not worried about being kicked out, though. I’m a fresh face and they have no idea who I am. I’m more worried about putting my scores in accurately and getting the basics right.

  ‘As soon as the player moves towards the service line, you need to be paying attention,’ Jethro schools me. ‘If you’re in a bad spot and can’t hear the calls properly, you might think a let is a second-serve fault. That would cause us to make bets on a point that hasn’t actually happened and could be costly. So, as soon as the ball is in play, you need to be watching and listening to everything on court. Watch the line judges’ signals to make sure you’ve heard the call right, then check the umpire’s reaction to make sure it hasn’t been overruled or replayed.’

  We watch the ball fly back and forward in a rally. Eventually, it spoons up and one of the players runs into the net. ‘Hit,’ whispers Jethro, ‘winner for sure,’ before the racquet has even hit the ball. I hesitate
and wait for a clean connection before hitting the button. It’s an easy winner. Jethro’s eyes have been fine-tuned to the intricacies of this sport.

  The next point is quite quick and this time the ball balloons into the air for what would appear to be an easy overhead smash. I’m about to click in anticipation when Jethro stops me. ‘Wait for it!’ he urges. I do. The player sets herself, one arm pointed at the falling ball, the other bent behind her head, ready to smash it … when she misjudges the shot and dumps it into the net. In a moment of bewilderment, I freeze, then move my finger from the button it was on and hit the opposite one. My heart rate jumps a bit. That was close. ‘You’ll be amazed how often they fuck up an overhead smash, mate. It’s not as easy as it looks – so never go early on those ones unless it’s one of the top players who doesn’t make mistakes.’ Sound advice.

  A few officials in white polo shirts with beige pants wander through the crowd, checking all is well on court and keeping an eye on proceedings. ‘These guys are the ones to watch out for,’ Jethro says. ‘They’re the tournament officials, and if anybody is going to call security on us it’s likely to be them.’

  I’m nervous for a moment and push my phone under my leg and out of sight. They wander by without even casting an eye over us and my heart rate finally returns to normal.

  *

  As my first covered match as a trader finishes, I put the match point in and relax for the first time in two hours. The match was a typically mundane first-round scrap. It was okay but nothing special. More promising tennis looms as Jethro and I move to centre court to cover a clash between Andy Roddick and Lleyton Hewitt. This match is an exciting one for me – I’ve never seen either of these champions play live and I’ve grown up watching both of them valiantly battle legends such as Sampras and Agassi (occasionally emerging victorious) at Grand Slams over the years. I’m alert and stimulated during the first set and begin to quiz Jethro about trading techniques in an attempt to get my head around the numbers. Numbers are not my favourite subject – I’m more of a words person – but numbers are the key to trading. Jethro breaks it down into simple terms for me.