THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 18, 1996 TAG: 9602180012
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY DAVE MAYFIELD, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: CHESAPEAKE LENGTH: Long : 151 lines
His eyes fixed on the TV screen before him, his fists pumping, Dennis Newman was about to explode out of his chair. ``Go Number 2! Go! Go!'' he hollered.
It was the first horse race Newman had ever bet on in Virginia, and his $20 wager was about to pay off nicely. He'd picked the No. 1 and 2 horses in order. For his correct bet, he'd be $50 richer.
Newman, of Virginia Beach, was one of hundreds of pony players who on Saturday morning crowded into Virginia's first off-track betting parlor.
In a former grocery store next to a McDonald's on South Military Highway, an Ohio-based investment group is staking its initial claim to what supporters say will be tens or even hundreds of millions of dollars in legal wagering each year in Virginia on horse racing.
Executives of Colonial Downs, the company that developed the parlor, said they were pleased with the first-day turnout and a little surprised by the knowledge level of the gamblers.
At about 5:30 p.m., the one-thousandth customer passed through the turnstile, and nearly $77,000 in wagers had been placed - in spite of snow and ice that made some roads treacherous.
``We're doing better than I'd expected, especially with the weather. And it's a more experienced crowd than I thought we'd have,'' said Bill Crawford, Colonial Downs' director of satellite wagering facilities.
The Chesapeake parlor, which on Saturday took bets on 70 races at seven out-of-state tracks, will be joined by another such facility in Richmond next month. Eventually, Colonial Downs plans four other parlors around the state in conjunction with a $46 million track in New Kent County near Williamsburg.
At the Chesapeake parlor, about 80 percent of all wagers are to be paid back in winnings to bettors. Colonial Downs and several other interests will split the remainder. Among those cut in are the state government, which will take 2 percent, and the Chesapeake and New Kent governments, which will get a quarter-percent each.
Until recently, the Chesapeake facility's opening wasn't a sure bet. Some state lawmakers wanted to block the parlor and any others until the track opened.
Colonial Downs' partners said they've had to delay work on the track because a horse breeders' group that wants the track built in Northern Virginia has sued to overturn Colonial Downs' license from the state racing commission.
The partners persuaded legislators to let them operate the Chesapeake and Richmond parlors through June 1997, even if the track isn't open - in part by pledging to put all profits from the facilities into an escrow set aside for the track's construction.
Standing near one of the 28 betting terminals at the Chesapeake parlor, Colonial Downs President Arnold Stansley said Saturday that the satellite wagering sites are vital to the success of his group and the New Kent track.
``It's very expensive to operate the track,'' Stansley said. ``You can't depend on the track's handle alone to do it.'' Handle is a term for the amount of money wagered.
Stansley, dressed in a crisp-cut black suit, stood in sharp contrast to his customers, a largely jeans-and-sweatshirt crowd. There were many couples and a handful of families with children, in spite of the fact that no one under 18 is allowed to actually bet. Most of the wagerers were men, however, and of all ages.
They plopped down a $1 admission. Most of them spent another $4 for the Daily Racing Form, the horse-race newspaper, and $3 for Colonial Downs' official program, which listed the morning odds on horses in each race.
Before the racing ended at about 11:30 p.m., they had the chance to bet on races at tracks as far away as San Mateo, Calif. Satellite receivers atop the 15,000-square-foot building pulled in telecasts from each track and fed the live images to 200 TVs that lined the walls and counter tops.
A fast-food counter featuring chicken fingers, pizzas and barbecue sandwiches bustled to keep up with the wagerers' appetites. Several small dining areas and a bar that served beer and mixed drinks also beckoned.
The parlor, casual, neat and open, looked like a cross between an airport bar, a midscale hotel lobby and a shopping-mall food court. A high-powered ventilation system kept cigarette smoke to a minimum.
Crawford estimated that Colonial Downs spent $750,000 to renovate the building and leased another $1.5 million worth of telecommunications and computer equipment. He said about 100 people, half of them full-timers, work at the parlor, which is open daily from 11 a.m. to midnight. Most make $6 an hour and have never worked in a gaming establishment before.
On Saturday, Al Balluzzo of Virginia Beach was their first customer - and he could have given almost any one of them an education on horse racing.
He and his wife, Betty, retired and moved to Hampton Roads from Niagara Falls, N.Y., in 1990. ``Our first date was at the track, Batavia Downs,'' he said. ``She won. I lost.''
Betty Balluzzo put her $600 in winnings that day toward a refrigerator and a washer-dryer combo.
She continued to play, occasionally, after they married. But her husband was the enthusiast. Going to the OTB, as off-track parlors are referred to in New York, was ``his second job,'' she said.
Al Balluzzo said he doesn't know whether, in 30 years of horse-betting, he's ahead or not. ``I don't think there's anybody who's a net winner,'' he said. ``It's just fun. I like the idea of sitting down with my racing form and trying to pick the owner's brain and the trainer's brain and the jockey's brain on what they're trying to do with the horse.''
True to his comment, Balluzzo did lose Saturday. He gave up after betting on 16 races, $30 in the hole.
Newman, the Virginia Beach man whose first wager was a winner, was having more luck. He clearly relished the parlor's atmosphere.
A senior chief petty officer, Newman has spent about 15 of his 18 years in the Navy in California, where tracks and betting parlors abound. He estimates he has wagered $200,000 in 25 years of playing horses. He claims to be $100,000 ahead.
He's also a stock investor and knows that if he'd invested as much in blue-chip stocks during the same period, he'd have been even further ahead. But Newman said there's a thrill in playing horses that he can't find in other forms of gambling.
Newman acknowledged the addictive risks of horse-race betting. He won't go to a parlor or track with more than $60 in his pocket. Most people who bet horses, he said, know when to stop.
His only concern about the Chesapeake parlor is that it will become too popular. ``Once the word gets out and people tell their friends,'' he said, ``you won't be able to find a seat in here.'' ILLUSTRATION: HUY NGUYEN color photos/The Virginian-Pilot
Melody Green, left, and Edna Witcher won a $10 bet at the debut of
the state's first off-track betting parlor Saturday. Colonial Downs
on South Military Highway had pulled in 1,000 customers by 5 p.m.
Pete McLaughlin uses a self-service machine to place his bets.
Colonial Downs leased $1.5 million worth of equipment to serve the
wagering facility.
Photo
HUY NGUYEN/The Virginian-Pilot
Wagerers can sit and study the Daily Racing Form or the Colonial
Downs' program while monitors display races and results at the
state's first off-track betting parlor on South Military Highway.
Graphic
Here's the routine for betting at the off-track parlor:
Read the Daily Racing Form to learn about the horses in the race
- their won-loss records, who trained them, how they've performed
under various conditions.
Check out TV screens in the parlor for the latest odds on the
horses.
Place a wager - any amount from $1 up - at one of the parlor's
betting terminals. Some of them are staffed, some are self-service.
Watch the race on TV. Races at up to 14 tracks around the country
will be telecast on a typical day.
Return to one of the staffed terminals to collect any winnings.
KEYWORDS: OFF-TRACK BETTING HORSE RACING by CNB