900 grand a year and all the fun of the turf - sounds just the job.
I've found my dream job. I want to be the CEO of the Racing Board. You get almost $900,000 a year. And this sucker's gig involves administering $1.5 billion wagered on racing and sport. But mainly because it would be Rat Pack cool when someone asked what your job was and you could say "I'm a bookie". I have obviously read too much Damon Runyon, who wrote about hustlers with names like Harry the Horse and Dave the Dude. "Always try to rub up against money, for if you rub up against money long enough, some of it may rub off on you."
Of course, I don't actually know anything about betting or that actuarial stuff, other than "I long ago came to the conclusion that all life is 6 to 5 against." My TAB account has dustballs whistling through it, but since the racing board has 56 people earning over $100,000 per year surely one or two of them could do the pesky number crunching and fix the odds? With an employee bill of $36 million a year - not too dusty - someone must be able to work a calculator.
However, the current CEO, who goes by the memorable moniker of Andrew Brown, is leaving after less than a year. So maybe being top bookie is not such a doddle. The poor fella, who came here from England, is leaving for "family reasons" although some mean-spirited punters haven't shown a jot of sympathy - all they wanted was a squiz at his CV.
Mr Brown, meanwhile, has responded with a statement that said his CV is entirely in order, and an accurate record of his work experience.
Runyon might also have advised against perusing the board's annual report: not a racy read. Three years ago the board's annual report was headlined "Racing!". Note the exclamation mark.
Now under chairman Michael "Nicely-Nicely" (another Runyon character) Stiassny it could be called Schlepping. Things are grim indeed. Much of Nicely-Nicely's report is about how the public has formed a very dim opinion of horse racing. Only 22 per cent of people think racing conducts its business with honesty and integrity. "Unfortunately, perception is reality," says Nicely, who happens to be an accountant.
But if you want to attract punters back to the track, I am not sure convincing them it is as dependable as spending the evening with a bunch of straitlaced bean counters is a winning strategy. In my admittedly limited experience, punters turn up at the track precisely because it is NOT a dependable sport. Also to rub shoulders with a bunch of bawdy guys with tall stories and dolls in short skirts and big hats.
Of course, the prospect of actually winning some serious moola - by putting up stakes - matters more to them than whether racing is considered admirable among polite Scrabble players.
But Nicely is a bit of a chalk eater, that being the term for a character who likes to play the short-priced favourites.
"If New Zealanders do not believe in the integrity of racing, they will not invest their time and money in the sport - as spectators, bettors or owners."
Nicely might like to mention that to Dame Sian Elias, the Chief Justice and all the horsey QC set who own a steaming heap of bloodstock. Of course, if the board's chairman wants to lead by example, he could just start by releasing his CEO's CV and explaining why he earned such a huge salary. When frankly I would have been perfect for the job.
dhc@deborahhillcone.com
