Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-11-29
P[UNG|NG GAME
A SURE LOSER
Big Bett0rS All Broke as a Re-
suit of Great Wagers on
Horse Races.
BY Clarence L. Cullen.
correspondence OF Tho Star.


Special Correspondence OF Tho Star
NEW YORK, November IS, 1908.
The other day l came upon one of the
former famous plungers of the American
turf. No matter as to his name. He's a
pretty square little man and there's no
use rubbing it in.
Well, he was running a piffiing little
poker game in the back room of a punk
theatrical hotel. A little game where
the limit is four bits, and where the ham
merino actors drop in and out after the
show The former famous plunger per-
haps rakes down SO or Sl5 a night out of
his pikerish little poker game when the
nights are pretty good.
And yet l saw that same little man bet
$4,000 on the little horse Sir Walter
one day at Sheepshead Bay. sixteen or
seventeen years ago, and when Sir Wal
ter got beat face on the tape he bit Off
the end of cigar, pretty calm over il,
and then made two more bets that more
ihan won him out on the Sir Walter fall
down.
The atmosphere over here isn't partic-
ularly conducive TO moraliZing, even ii
folks over here had time for that stuff.
Yet. / couldn't help sort o. thinking
things over when l saw this one running
his little four-bit poker game for hams
liIt OtueI night
Only as a Side Line.
Piunging. you see, rarely or never does
get anybody much OF a finish.
Take one of your hands and count the
fingers on it, and then count over the
names of famous plungers you know
about and remember how much they had
of their plunge-won kale when they made
their final caSh-in.
You can count 'en on the fingers of
that one hand you've picked out and still
have some fingers left when you've done
your recapitulattng.
Plunging, anyway, was never meant to
be anything else than a sort of side line.
It's side line for millionaires, too. Side
line for fellows like John w. Gates and
John II. Drake, who crave the keen ex-
element of hazarding the gigantic coin
but who won't have to go to the Stag
heap if the plunging calculations go
aSkew.
Now. John w. Gates has got his yet,
and always will have it. because plunging
was only a side line with him. He had
his bales of the dough all packed away,
made out of legitimate business, before he
took ii into his head that he'd take lit
lie rassle out Of the ponies. He fit and
fought the pony thing for a number OF
wears in this country and In England,
and when the bug left his blood and he
was all through with the gee-gee stuff he
was, as he told me out OF his own face,
just about two and half millions on the
shriveled side. But John w. he had
heap of other millions to nestle back on.
and SO he was all hunk.
Plunging. you understand, was only
side line with him. 1t was his way OF
gouging out little fun-until he got tired
Of 1t.
Same with John II. Drake, Gates pal In
many plunging operations. Drake never
saw the infield Of a race track until he
had a whole harmful Of the auriferous
dust. Then Gates told him that he'd bet
ter give himself a little action on his
coin by taking some peeks at the ponies.
Drake liked the idea Of action. and he
went into the plunging business He
stuck around with the plunge stuff for
about six years all told; and when he
was all through and sort O lost his in
that the thoroughbred game had walloped
him to the tune of million and a half.
But he had. like Gates, millions and
then some more Of 'em to snuggle back
on. and he didn't bother his head about
his losses.
Get the Big-Big Trim.
Not so with the plunger who makes
plunging his sole business, instead of
side line.
All Of those people, or nearly all of
'em. get the bis-big trim sooner or later,
and the time always comes when they
can't connect with Il fresh bank roll TO
start operations over again.
Pittsburg Phil. of course, died with his
still on him. He left three and a half
millions Great or course. But the fact
must be remembered that Phil was the
scientificest plunger that ever looked
/ through stack of past performances. He
was as cold as the nose of porpoise,
and he never was nut over the game as
a game. He'd sit away up in the stand
and let 'em run for Sweeney Tor weeks
at a stretch without ever making bet.
Moreover for a couple of years before
he died he practically was out of the bet
ting business altogether. He was a sick
man. and the old game sort of soured
within his system. He curled up on 1t.
Moreover again. Pittsburg Phil himself
considered it miracle that he ever
wound up his turf career with as much
as So cents still kicking around in his
Jeans He was close down to the bust
bust line several times. In the year 1873
he was virtually all in except the an
nuity he had bought for himself. and this
gan to get a little break for himself, and
by playing with the greatest caution, he
nudged the roll up to the million-dollar
mark again, and finally, by dint of putting
over a series of carefully wrought coups
the details OF which never got talked
about In the newspapers, he bolstered the
Wad that had been SO skinny until, at his
death. he was able to fix his folks out
will, three and a half millions in his WILL
But he said time and again that his win
out at the time he was all but down and
out, barring his annuity, in 1889, was
nothing short of a miracle.
Flip Flap Broke Langdon.
Tot 'em over. Consider the plungers
YOU we're reading about only few short
years ago.
Well, there's G. White Langdon -
Whitley" Langdon that you've heard SO
much about in former years. Whitley"
maybe you remember, parlayed 81 silver
into $3.50 900. He actually did It, too--it
wasn't mere superheated steam about his
doing it, He was writing sporting stuff
for Wilmington newspaper. His busi-
ness of doing this sent him/to Iron Hill