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 The hideouts and holes have been replaced by gleaming office blocks, 24-hour call centres and websites, so that gamblers can get their bet on.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.

Watching the watchers...

Hullo and welcome. A self-confessed luddite (I don't yet posess a smart phone) it has been brought to my attention that the time has come to 'get with it'. So here I am, emboldened by a mince pie and ginger tea and cosseted by a thick jumper and cosy slippers. Only a minor contradiction to start, then.

This blog business is, apparently, a vital tool for today's 'media professionals'. I suppose it is the considered voice of the commentator. Rather than the shouty-shouty, knee-jerk handle that is Twitter. Much damage has been done in 140 characters or fewer to many, many more characters than 140, if you get me.

So I'm going to give it a go. Hopefully it will not be filled with irrelevant musings about reality TV or what I've just consumed for an afternoon snack.

It will be about keeping an eye on the spies, those who we are expecting to keep clean sport, whether that be cricket, football or Sumo wrestling. Corruption in sport is my specialism you see, particularly exposing
those who are supposed to be doing the exposing.

What I may well focus on is the ricks made by anti-corruption units as they 'battle' a scorge that is sweeping the world. It could get depressing, but enlightening also.

And do forgive me if I ramble on constantly about the need for AC units (not air-conditioning, folks, anti-corruption) to have betting expertise. So few do.