Gamblers gamble because subconsciously they love the thrill of losing more than they can afford.The adrenalin pulsating through the veins, the cold sweat on the brow. Heart pounding when they realise that several months income will never see their bank account.We are not talking about raffle tickets here, but serious money. I have witnessed grown men hocking their business and even their homes to cover the bet. My own mother felt that my father's gambling debts were debts of honour that had to be paid on his death even though there was no legal obligation to do so, resulting in her impoverishment.
I must confess once being infected with this disease and the only way to cure such an addition is abstinence.
Legislation controlling the size of the wagers or setting some scale as to how much a person may lose is doomed to failure. Gamblers will always find ways to experience the excitement of betting against the odds whether at a card table , race track or wherever and the hope that this time things will be different beg the question.
As a boy of around ten, one of my daily jobs for my mother's Spanish lover was to iron old bank notes [ last nights winning] so they were restored to their original crispness.Manual, that was his name felt this would bring him luck and besides he loved the feel of new notes in his hands for the daily outing to Tomo's Two-up establishment near Sydney's Central Railway Station. For those of my readers who are unfamiliar with two-up it is a game of chance, by throwing two pennies up into the air gamblers would call what they considered would be the result when they fell to the ground and bet accordingly.
In these pre-credit card and Internet banking days, new notes advertised that you had a bank account and didn't keep your money under the mattress. You were seen as someone of substance. Strangely ,Manual kept his money under the mattress as well along with his trousers between to two boards to keep everything neatly pressed, Like many Spanish boys he dreamed of being a bullfighter but here even chance interfered. As he grew up his physical type became such that a wrestler proved to be a more suitable occupation. I can still see him now some sixty years later dressed in the most colourfully Italian cloths, two-tone shoes and his large gaucho hat that was wide enough to keep the sun off both shoulders. When ever he wished to board the Bondi toast- rack tram he needed to remove it to fit through the narrow door.
Life is always a game of chance, all the legislation in the world won't change that. We can't control the time of our death anymore than our desire to spend money as we see fit.Perhaps as a society we should be trying to direct our risk-takers, and that is what gamblers are, towards more rewarding directions. Most successful businesses are run by people willing to take risks were they can experience the thrill of possible failure, but with a more calculated risk. Australia most certainly has needs more of them.
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