Fred Hill was a tall man in his 70s who wore a Stetson and Larry Mahan boots. I met him in Tucson, AZ. while working as a reporter on the Tucson American, a weekly newspaper owned by Evan Mecham who would later become governor of Arizona.
Hill was a businessman who developed desert properties and turned them into commercial ventures. He walked into our newspaper office to buy some advertising space to promote a greyhound dog racing track he was in the process of completing near Benson, AZ.
He and I hit it off well. Fred was a jocular, well spoken individual who was related to a legendary baseball player named Paul Dean. When he discovered I enjoyed a gamble, he invited me to be his guest at the track's grand opening 10 days away.
'Who knows?', he said. 'You might get lucky.'
I accepted his card and told him i would be at the track to watch the races.
The track was scheduled to open on a Saturday at noon for the matinee. i had met an attractive flight attendant for American Airlines and planned to take her out to dinner that evening. Since Friday was payday, I was ready for action, both at Hill's greyhound track and wit the pretty stewardess.
After collecting my pay, I drove to Benson. The advertising had done its job and the grandstands were filled with people. Fred saw me when I entered the place and came over, smiling.
'I read your article on me and the track,' he said. 'Nice job. Good luck on the dogs. Enjoy a steak in the club house. it's on me.'
I thanked him and bought a racing form. There wasn't much information on the dogs since this would be their first appearance at the new Benson track. I decided to bet on front-runners since they have a better chance to win than dogs that break from behind.
Well, the greyhounds I picked may have been front runners at other tracks, but they didn't do well in Benson. I lost the first several races I bet on and my funds quickly became depleted. I began worrying about my date that night. I sure didn't want to have to take Anita, the flight attendant, to Taco Bell or McDonald's for dinner.
Fred ambled over to me. He lit a big cigar and asked me how I was doing.
'Not very well,' I said. 'So far your greyhounds have bamboozled me. I haven't been able to pick a winner.'
Fred grabbed my program. He leafed it open to the next race.
'Now son, i'm not a gambling man. I'm a businessman. But if I was a gambling man, I might go for the number 4 dog in the fifth race,' he said, winking. 'You might want to wheel that dog in a quenelle.' Then he walked away, whistling.
It was two minutes to post time. I hurried over to the cashier's window and wheeled the 4 dog. The wager cost me $14.
The 4 dog was 10-1 odds. After the announcer sang out, 'Here comes the rabbit,' it broke out of the chute like a rocket and won the race by six lengths. Another longshot finished second and I collected $120.
Fred was waiting for me at the finish line. 'How'd you do, son?,' he said casually, removing the cigar from his mouth.
'Great, Fred,' I said. 'I won half my losses back. Um...I know you're not a gambling man, but I don't suppose you have any recommendations for the next race, do you?'
Fred grinned. He opened the racing form. 'Well, like I said, I'm a businessman, but if I was a gambling man, I just might wheel that 2 dog in the next race.' He winked. 'Good luck,' and left, whistling.
I wheeled the 2 dog. Like the 4 dog in the previous race, it shot to the lead like a Chinese rocket and easily won the race, giving me another good payoff.
That night, Anita and I dined at one of Tucson's best restaurants and had a great time. As for Fred Hill, he went on to other business ventures. The dog track didn't last long. It was too far from Tucson to attract a regular cloud, but I will always be grateful to the 'businessman turned gambler,' even if it was for only one day.
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
