In depth: The reality of football's match-fixing claims

Football is never far away from its next scandal and allegations of match-fixing certainly dent the reputation of the beautiful game. But is it right to call the recent claims of wrongdoing "match fixing"?

Sam Sodje, a former Portsmouth player, was filmed by an undercover reporter claiming he could arrange for footballers to be booked for a £30,000 fee and a sending-off for £50,000 to £70,000 in order to facilitate betting fraudsters. Six people have been arrested, including DJ Campbell, the Blackburn Rovers striker.

Emotive terms like "plague" and "cancer" have been used in the media and there have been calls for fixers to be banned for life, but why has no-one asked whether it is actually possible to make substantial amounts of money by betting on yellow and red cards?

The answer - and the awkward truth - is that it is impossible. No matter which expert is asked, they all say the same.

While there is a window of opportunity to make some financial gain on the goals-related market if a fixer has information about a red card being awarded, the world's leading anti-corruption officer, Chris Eaton, claims it is the sort of "small-fry" wager that would not interest crime syndicates.

To explode the myth that massive amounts of money are being made by people betting on yellow and red cards, let's examine in detail how the regulated bookmakers in the United Kingdom and the licensed and unlicensed Asian bookmakers operate.

In the UK, it is possible to bet on an individual player being cautioned during a match, but gamblers are restricted to small stakes for fear that such betting opportunities can be manipulated. Every regulated bookmaker has software that will alert staff to a suspicious betting pattern.

Graham Sharpe, who has worked for bookmakers William Hill for 42 years, says: "The average bet on a yellow-card market would not even be £100. It's fivers and tenners.

"So if we saw one bet above the average wager, we'd raise an eyebrow. If we saw two, we'd begin to investigate. Any more than that and we'd have to shut the market."

For Tuesday's Champions League match between Manchester United and Shakhtar Donetsk, a game United won 1-0, bookmakers Victor Chandler said they took 36 bets on the "to receive a yellow card" market, only 0.75% of their pre-game turnover.

As for Sky Bet, who have a maximum payout of £1,000 on yellow cards, they reported insignificant amounts. Unibet and 888Sport were the only other firms to offer the wager.

It is the same with the spread bookmakers. Mark Maydon, business affairs director for SportingIndex, said: "Spread betting firms operate in exactly the way a fixed-odds firm would in this regard. We are regulated by the UK’s Financial Conduct Authority so we have very stringent know your customer (KYC) requirements. That in itself is a powerful deterrent – we don’t just take bets from individuals we haven’t checked out. Then we have systems and processes in place designed to prevent us from being victims of a fix. For example, we offer bookings markets on higher profile televised matches only, and staking levels are controlled.

“All bets are monitored in real time, so it would be impossible for a punter to stake enough on a yellow card, or any other market, to make this corruption worthwhile. We'd know who he was instantly and we’d report it to the regulatory authorities. So it would be a very dumb thing to do."

But what of the Asian industry where we are told much of the corruption in football takes place?

The gambling dens in that part of the world have a mysterious reputation. A few years ago, the punter wanting to make a bet in the streets of Jakarta or Hanoi would need a password to access the bookies who had set up in the backroom of a karaoke bar.

But this subversive glamour is the past. The hideouts and holes have been replaced by gleaming office blocks, 24-hour call centres and websites, so that gamblers can get their bet on. Gambling in Asia has gone corporate.

Anti-corruption investigators call this new-look industry "the grey market" because they are not quite sure how it works. As for match fixers, they use it because they are able to stake unrestrained amounts in a faceless manner. But can they make a killing by betting on yellow or red cards?

"No chance," says Joe Saumarez Smith, a sports betting consultant who has been advising Asian operations for 21 years. "You cannot bet on a yellow card being given to an individual player or a red card being given to an individual player in Asia. Bookies don't offer odds.

"I would say that 90% of money wagered is on Asian handicaps - a goals-related market - but the rest is on the match odds and over/under a certain amount of goals.

"I can't think of any way to make money from the information about a yellow card."

A red card could work in favour of corruptors but only if they knew exactly when a player would be dismissed.

With that inside information, a fixer would be able to "trade" the goal markets in Asia much like someone could a stock price if they had company secrets. The likelihood of goals in a game increases after a sending-off, so if bets are placed just before a card is issued - timing is crucial - the change in odds gives the fixer a margin for profit.

It can be complex and confusing for the layman to understand, so let's put it another way. If someone buys 10 loaves of bread for £1 each just before a chronic food shortage, then sells one back for £10, the money they make by offloading the rest is pure profit.

Eaton, the former head of security at Fifa who is trying to set up a global fixing taskforce, argues inaccurate revelations are a hindrance to curbing the problem of betting corruption in football because it propagates falsehoods.

"It's misinformation," he says. "Corrupt attitudes have been uncovered, no more. I do think this sort of media story is harmful. People talk about spot betting as if it's a huge conspiracy but this is just wrong. It's inconsequential in terms of quantum.

"The quantum in football is all on a significant result or the number of goals scored. We're talking about significant field outcomes here, not yellow cards, red cards to satisfy criminal organisations.

"People will talk about 'trading' the odds for a red card, but I think that's small fry. It's becoming a common lexicon and by doing that we're confusing the issue by talking about these trendy, boutique bets. They mean almost nothing."

Eaton, whose current role is as sports integrity director at the International Centre for Sports Security, says it is possible that such smaller "fixes" could be used as a test.

"The fixers want to know how trustworthy these guys are so they give them something simple to do," he says. "It is someone proving they have other people under their control."

In that regard, the recent revelations are similar to the infamous News of the World sting that saw three Pakistan cricketers convicted of deliberately bowling no-balls in a Test match at Lord's in 2010.

Salman Butt, Mohammad Asif and Mohammad Amir went to prison for conspiracy to cheat at gambling, defined under the Gambling Act of 2005.

But just like the yellow cards in football, there is no opportunity to make significant amounts of money by betting on a no-ball, legal or illegal.

Yasin Patel, the lawyer who defended Butt, says sport, the legal profession and the courts must get to grips with the nuances of legal and illegal betting if corruption is to be checked.

"Footballers' reputations and livelihoods are at stake here," he says. "People cannot be arrested or charged under match-fixing just because a newspaper headline screams the term. Everyone needs to be smarter and speak to the experts. We all want sport to be clean but we have to clean it up using the laws of the country in the right manner."

It is also unlikely that a footballer could be charged with conspiring to defraud when it comes to fixing yellow or red cards because the sums involved are minimal.

The National Crime Agency could instead look to the new bribery act to take any case to court, which does not, according to Patel, fall under the criteria of corruption in sport.

So that is neither match fixing nor spot fixing. Nor is it quite the spicy plot line some would have us believe. For the good of the game and for attempting to stop the scourge, that has to be made clear.

This was first published on the BBC Sport website on December 13 2013 

Football match-fixing in the UK: there's smoke but no fire

If you were to walk into any betting shop on the high street and ask for £1,000 on Player A to receive a yellow card in a Football League match the cashier would say ‘I just need to call head office’. Later you would be told the wager would not be accepted. They would suspect foul play.

Therein lies the problem with the sensational allegations about match-fixing in English football. Amid such media storms, rarely is the question asked:  can you actually make money betting on it?

The answer, almost certainly, is no. Sam Sodje’s claims that he can arrange for footballers to receive a yellow card for £30,000 are troubling but they are far from proof of fixing. And it does not require a huge amount of common sense to understand why not.  

High street UK bookmakers do accept bets on a variety of markets which involve yellow or red cards. Occasionally, it is possible to bet on an individual player to be booked.

However, bookmakers restrict gamblers to small stakes for fear that such betting opportunities can be manipulated. On average an individual player  would be around 4-1 to receive a yellow card. A gambler would be allowed no more, if he was lucky, than a £250 stake. Consider the number of wagers needed to be placed for the ‘corruptor’ in this instance to win back his £30,000 bribe.

With winnings of £1,000 per bet the ‘fixer’ would need to place 30 separate bets. In the heavily regulated UK market that is impossible. Markets are shut down at the merest whiff of a suspicious betting pattern, which would normally constitute a run of four of five such wagers across the industry.

But what about the illegal bookmakers in Asia, surely they would take the bets? No chance. The ‘grey’ betting markets, which are somewhere between legal and illegal, based in the Philippines, do not offer punters’ the chance to bet on cards of any hue. Nor do the authentic black market operators in the back streets of Hanoi or Singapore.

The Sun, it would appear, have uncovered corrupt attitudes within the English game. With no bet placed and no opportunity to do so, however, it cannot be called match-fixing.

This article was first published in The Times on December 10 

Kiwi investigation a reminder of 'the plague'

Here’s a sorry stat. In the last three years 11 cricketers have been handed bans for corruption, nine more face charges from the Bangladesh Premier League scandal and at least three New Zealanders are being investigated.

It was 13 years ago that cricket was supposed to have suffered its nadir. Nine, including Hansie Cronje, the captain of South Africa, and his India counterpart, Mohammad Azharuddin, both behemoths of the game, were banned for fixing matches or agreeing to underperform for bookmakers.

But the dark clouds have never really lifted. The news that Chris Cairns, Lou Vincent and Daryl Tuffey are being probed is a reminder that the scourge will never go away. It is also a reminder that corruption in cricket is not a problem isolated to the Indian sub-continent.

New Zealand Cricket probably thought it was untouchable. And I say that because when researching Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy I had some dealings with them. They were shirty and precious. How very dare you cast aspersions in our direction.

Nothing is proved, of course, but that tale is told because it is very much the pervading attitude among boards other than Pakistan, India and Sri Lanka.  Nothing to do with us, they say. The ECB were the same until they appointed an anti-corruption unit. They have found in the last two years that, boy, do they need one.

Kiwi cricket is actually more vulnerable than most. The board is cash poor and subsequently so are their players. A top performer back in 2007 would have earned no more than $100,000 a year. So they need to earn money in places like the ICL and IPL, hotbeds for corruption as anyone with a semblance of knowledge of this grubby business will attest.

And there’s the rub. A trip to ICL or IPL is a bit like a young buck going on an 18-30 holiday to Ibiza. You’re young, dumb, careless. You make some bad decisions. You pick up something nasty. That nasty thing comes back with you. It follows you.

Between them, Vincent, Cairns and Tuffey played for 14 different clubs in four different countries. That is not to claim they are guilty, merely to point out how cricketers get around these days.

Vincent has a poor reputation in the game but will relish the chance to clear his name as he is probably sick and tired of being asked whether he has been up to no good. And best of luck to him.

Those who have good memories will, of course, remember that a match Vincent was involved with – the Sussex v Kent one-day match in 2011 – was investigated, and cleared, by the ICC. It has since been reported that the ECB have been having a good, hard look at it. As well they should. The betting patterns were off the scale.

It is unlikely that the Sussex v Kent match is one of those being referred to by the ACSU in this insistence. Nor are they expected to be international New Zealand games or domestic contests in the country.

Cairns’ name cropping up again is not a surprise either. The all-rounder has already won a libel case against Lalit Modi for claims about corruption in the ICL. He won easily (legal parlance not my forte), according to the judge, so he will be confident that he will not face a charge.

Battle lines are sketched for power struggle in the BCCI

“Think not what cricket can do for you, but what you can do for cricket”. The bastardisation of the most well-worn of political phrases could be considered a little slothful but when it comes from the mouth of one of the most respected administrators the game has known, it is worth listening to.

Inderjit Singh Bindra has been at the beating heart of cricket for almost 40 years. He was for years considered the moral authority of India's obsession, whether on the BCCI board or not. It was his idea to set up the ICC’s anti-corruption unit. He was principal adviser to the ICC. He was BCCI president. Twice. He has been president of Punjab Cricket Association for three decades. He knows his stuff.

So when he looks cricket up and down when asked how it has changed, he does so with a wise, narrow-eyed sad stare. One suspects a tear could fall because Bindra believes it is in a sorry state, particularly in India.

“I’ll you the reason why it has changed,” he told me in London last week. “Too much money. If it was spent and distributed properly it’s a good thing but otherwise it creates vested interests. The board president is more powerful than a union cabinet minister. It’s the most high profile job next to the prime minister of India. Cricket is bigger than politics. There’s so much money. People are coming into it not for the love of the game. They want to know what they can get out of the game.”

Indian cricket got rich quickly largely because of Lalit Modi, who transformed television and marketing revenue in the late 90s for a board which previously had no clue. Bindra was Modi’s champion. He first met him in 1996 when Modi was launching ESPN in India and impressed by his gusto, Bindra slowly but surely encouraged his rise into administration.

It was the beginning of a new era for India. Of untold wealth and untold power struggles. Modi's job was to ensure the BCCI realised its true worth. It was about money, but Bindra says this was not the Pandora’s box moment.

“At the end of the day it is about how the money is deployed. Getting it pumped back into the game is most important. Marketing has to have an objective. What are we raising the money for? To promote the game at grass root level. Lalit was a genius at marketing. And the money went to the grass roots. Now, the Indian board has become, almost like a Dracula.”

Bindra blames N Srinivasan, the current BCCI president, for the change. His influence not just in Indian cricket, but the world game, is exceptional . No man has strode the sport with such colossal steps before. And the rest of the world quakes. Look at how Srinivasan was able to convince the South African board that they should suspend Haroon Lorgat, their own chief executive, because he didn’t do as he said. Lorgat now faces an ICC probe.

It is an extraordinary state of affairs. And Bindra says it is all down to money and power, of which Srinivasan, who owns the Chennai Super Kings and the business behemoth India Cements, has plenty.

“India cricket has a vice-like grip. Once you say Lorgat should not be in South Africa that is wrong. He has done nothing wrong. It is all for vested interests or self-aggrandisement.

“Srini tells the ICC what to do. DRS is wrong. So everyone says it’s wrong. Suspend Lorgat. He is suspended. He told me it was his ambition to be the new Dalmiya. And Dalmiya was the Godfather of Indian cricket. He was almost untouchable until Sharad Pawar unseated him in 2005.”

The reference to Jagmohan Dalmiya should not go unnoticed. Bindra was suspended by the former BCCI chief in 2002 for speaking up about match-fixing. He wore the suspension as a badge of honour. He thought Dalmiya’s reign had turned sour, beset by malpractice and self-interest.

“He was underselling India cricket. When Modi came in the value went up 50 times for television deals. You can’t do that in one cycle unless it was being undersold. Indian cricket was not achieving what it should. But Srini is more dangerous, more powerful. He has more resources.” Almost incredulously, Bindra repeats, “he told me he wanted to follow in Dalmiya’s footsteps.”

Bindra has been threatened with a ban by Srinivasan  for criticising the BCCI about their decision to carpet Modi. It is perhaps because he is the man he fears most. The man who could bring him down, just as he did to Dalmiya.

In 2005 when Pawar caused shock waves by unseating the Kolkata giant, Bindra was part of the election team. It included Modi and a certain Srinivasan, who had switched allegiances from Dalmiya’s camp at the last minute.

With Pawar returning to the fold as president of the Mumbai Cricket Association and Modi set to contest the Rajasthan president elections, Bindra has the potential to be a key figure once again.

Indeed, with Srinivasan under the scanner for the IPL spot-fixing scandal, the trio recognise that he may never be as vulnerable again. They may need help, though. And it could come in the form of Dalmiya.

Could Bindra, who remains close to the Dalmiya clan, convince the grand old master to turn on his protégé? Or will battle lines be drawn on historic rifts? Regardless, battle lines are being sketched for a heavyweight contest. It may be some time away, but it will be box office. 

Grey betting market in Asia offers loophole to be exploited

The gambling dens of Asia have a grubby reputation. The punter wanting to bet a few years ago in the streets of Jakarta or Hanoi would need a password for access to the bookies who had set up in the backroom of a karaoke bar. Or there was the mansion in the middle of the Malaysian jungle with a giant satellite dish on its roof beaming in football matches from around the world.

This subversive glamour is the past. The hideouts and holes have been replaced by gleaming office blocks, 24-hour call centres and websites, so that gamblers can get their bet on. Gambling in Asia has gone corporate.

Betting behemoths including SBO Bet — a name you might recognise from the shirts of West Ham United until last season — and IBC Bet have been granted licences by the Philippines to run their operations out of Manila.

Anti-corruption investigators call it “the grey market”, because while they unequivocally know the temperament of black and white markets, of this new industry they are unsure.

The grey market is used by match-fixers simply because they are able to stake unrestrained amounts in a faceless manner. An illegal black-market bookie has a limit to how much he can afford to lose and white-market firms such as Ladbrokes or William Hill restrict customers. A fixer could place $500 bets every second on the website of one of the licensed bookmakers from anywhere in the world.

An example, according to a source within SBO Bet, was an under-17 match in Scotland last year. The match was listed on the betting websites and almost $1 million poured in. A Barclays Premier League match will attract $60  million and an early kick-off involving two of the bigger clubs — because of the time difference — can rake in double that.

About 90 per cent of money wagered will be on the Asian handicap, a market that allows the team expected to win a “head start” of a quarter of a goal or more to the opposition. The rest of the money staked will go on over or under a certain amount of goals and the match result.

These three markets are the only ones of interest to the armies of bettors. It is a myth that there are weird and wonderful markets to be exploited by fixers such as the time of the first throw-in or number of corners. But what is the anatomy of match-fixing, an industry that yields $90 billion annually?

Once a fix is set up, the corruptors will either employ minions to place the wagers on the websites such as SBO or a broker company will be given the task of placing bets on a second-by-second basis. Armed with either the knowledge of the result or how many (and when) goals will be scored, the odds are manipulated in favour of the fixer.

It’s a lot like insider trading. A popular tactic of the syndicate is to put large sums for a goal between the 70th and 75th minute. A late penalty, if the referee is corrupted, is also popular. A high-street bookmaker is able to guard against such corruption because such a run of cash would be considered a suspicious betting pattern and betting would be stopped. For a company such as SBO, its greatest strength is also its greatest weakness.

It owes its position and popularity because it never turns down a gamble on any sport. But when such massive sums are being placed on games that would be considered “small fry”, trying to find malpractice is akin to the search for a needle in a haystack.

However, it is debatable as to how hard investigators are looking. An FA investigation into claims of corruption in a Championship match between Norwich City and Derby County in 2008 faltered when licensed Asian bookmakers refused to reveal betting patterns.

Three betting markets in Asia
Asian handicap
The most popular form of betting in Asia. Teams are handicapped according to their form, so that a stronger team must win by more goals for a bet to be successful. Handicaps typically range from one-quarter goal to several goals, in increments of half or even quarter-goals.

Over/under goals
Gamblers are asked to guess whether there will be more than 2.5 goals in a match or fewer. Other “ranges” of goals are available to bet on. Thanks to odds changing second by second, the market offers a clear opportunity for fixers to make vast amounts if a team have agreed to concede only one goal.

Match odds
The wager which we are all most familiar. Who will win the match? Or will it be a draw? As simple as that.

First published in The Times, November 28

Flintoff's fear exposes cricket's greatest problem

Bookie Gambler Fixer Spy, my book on cricket corruption, has largely been well received (he says modestly). Save for the slanging matches on Indian TV, and the odd trolls on Twitter, the detractors have been few and far between.

But at the William Hill Sports Book of the Year award on Wednesday when BGFS was nominated but was eclipsed by the superb Doped by Jamie Reid, someone had a pop. It was telling.

The sniper was Andrew Flintoff. During a Q&A I was asked about  the risks involved in meeting with those who stalk India's underworld and the scourge that threatens the sport. Flintoff's response to Robbie Savage, who was standing next to him, was to mouth "knob".

We'll give Flintoff the benefit of the doubt here, due to the very fact that he was standing next to Savage. After all, it must be difficult not to tell him what you think of him every five minutes.

Alas, Freddie, on duty as a Hills ambassador, was not impressed with yours truly and I'm beginning to think I was the door handle. He followed it up with: "If that was true he'd be dead".

I know this because my publisher, Charlotte Atyeo, was standing next to the 6ft everything Flintoff. The 5ft nothing Charlotte proceeded to do her best finger-wagging impression of Mike Gatting versus Shakoor Rana, telling him exactly what she thought of his view and the content of the book. "You haven't even read it, have you?"

Flintoff shrunk a little and, to his credit, promised that he would go off and buy a copy (hardback please) but his imediate, gut reaction to corruption in his sport was typical of those that have played it. And that is why I relate the story.

One of the greatest myths about fixing is that it is conducted by mafia hoods who will use intimidation and violence to get their way.

It has been spun to such an extent by anti-corruption units and player associations in an attempt to scare players witless so they never, ever consider getting involved.

Unfortunately, they have merely encouraged terror. So frightened are they of these shadowy folk that players refuse to speak out, something which this war on corruption cannot be won without.

One of the most uncomfortable truths about fixing is that in India it is being conducted by ordinary folk who have a relationship with a player and/or a betting account/relationship with a bookie.

They are punters who are looking for an edge, desperate to beat the system. It is that very ethos which binds Indian society, whether you're talking betting or not. It is there in every walk of life.

Sure, there are some who might get nasty and the hand of D-Company is at play. But most of the time it's people like You. People like Me. I'm being serious. Deadly.

Searching for Sanjeev

A few weeks ago I spent hours - blimey, they were countless - attempting to track down an infamous charcter from match-fixing's shady past. The result was a feature in this month's The Cricketer magazine. Here's a taster...

At first glance the cul-de-sac just off the Finchley Road in north London is calm, cosseted by the bosom of suburbia. The bins have been neatly arranged for the morning’s collection. Mock Tudor homes are blemished by satellite dishes. Ready-to-roar 4x4s shimmer out front. The odd net curtain twitches. At No 4, the gate has been left open. In haste or a sign that the owner will return?

“Yes, they’re still there,” says the woman at No 6 with a hint of American drawl.

“The Chawlas?”

“Yes...haven’t seen them for a few weeks, though. Perhaps they’re on holiday.”

Before she opened the door a perturbed, wide-eye had appeared behind the glass. Her voice wavered in the way that they do when strangers call. She is right to be nervous, although not for the right reasons. She is living next door to one of India’s most wanted. A man on an Interpol hunted list. A man Delhi police believe was the brains behind the match-fixing scandal that tore cricket asunder. His name is Sanjeev Chawla. Hansie Cronje’s fixer.