Rinconpaul
24th December 2014, 11:14 AM
How 'pitchsiders' who prey on Big Bash League can make a fortune
Chris Barrett Canberra Times Sports writer
When Adam Zampa smashed a six in the final over of the Big Bash match between Adelaide and Perth on Monday night it was cause for the Strikers to celebrate.
The Strikers were overwhelming outsiders needing seven runs to win off the final three balls and nine wickets down, with the Scorchers $1.11 favourites. But only seconds later, as Zampa sent the ball soaring over mid-wicket and the rope, Perth all of a sudden flew out to 1000-1.
Adelaide would go on to win and the thrilling climax was not just a great result for the South Australian franchise. It was also a dream scenario for the newest arrival on the radar of cricket's anti-corruption personnel: the pitchsider.
For the man stationed in the crowd with a laptop or a smartphone, the finale offered the most technologically savvy and connected of punters the chance to reap a fortune.
By backing the Strikers at a tasty price, the moment Zampa laid bat on ball — knowing it was headed over the boundary — they would have had the opportunity to get a step ahead of overseas betting agencies waiting for a live feed of scores and slightly delayed television coverage to adjust their odds.
It's in this narrow but lucrative sphere that individuals such as Rajiv Mulchandan, whom Fairfax Media revealed as the British national kicked out of two BBL games in Sydney over the past week, are striving to make a mint.
"The value in knowing what is going to happen is immense," said Brendan Poots, chief executive of Australian-based sports betting hedge fund Priomha Capital. "If you can get that split second advantage the value is incredible. The moment that ball left the bat you could see it was going for six, whereas Betfair and the different data providers will wait for [the six] to happen. That's how they do it."
The practice is being compared with the activity outlined in such compelling depth this year in Michael Lewis' expose of the American high-speed financial trading industry, Flash Boys. The book documents how traders use high-speed underground cables and locate their computers close to the stockmarket's matching engine in an effort to get fractionally ahead of the market.
They have gained a tiny physical advantage over slower traders, measured in only microseconds but, as Lewis revealed, it has been worth millions.
In cricket, the so-called pitchsiders are able to get their nose in front because of television delays into overseas markets of as long as 12 to 14 seconds. Most overseas gambling organisations will have staff in their offices altering the odds based on scores and television coverage. Punters generally will have to combat a built-in delay of six to eight seconds for in-play wagers to be processed, but that leaves a slight opening for the most enterprising.
The ploy does not work with Australian betting agencies - such wagers have to be made with a phone call, not electronically, and Betfair's Australian server prevents in-play betting here on its app and site. But Australian cricket's Twenty20 tournament is clearly seen as an appealing target because the odds on the result can change so dramatically.
Tennis is considered even greater attraction, as evidenced by the affair at this year's Australian Open in which a British man was accused of transmitting live scores to a London sports data provider - or "courtsiding" - before having charges dropped by Victorian police.
Betting industry folks will say it is simply a loophole being exercised by the most crafty- "it's not match fixing, it's just taking advantage of technology," Poots said - and stress that it is not a criminal offence, certainly in NSW where Mulchandan was swooped on by police in and thrown out of the SCG and ANZ Stadium.
Cricket authorities, however, see pitchsiding very differently. Concerned about whose hands information may fall into, and unwilling for their game to be used for such purposes, they are banking on the Coalition of Major Professional and Participation Sports, led by former ICC chief executive Malcolm Speed, being able to successfully lobby governments to stamp it out.
"There is already legislation in certain states that makes courtside betting illegal," a Cricket Australia spokesman said.
"Our conditions of entry reflect that meaning anyone who engages in the practice will be handed over to police.
"We are vigilant about protecting the integrity of the game and that means preventing anyone entering our grounds who might be trying to manipulate betting markets or potentially rely on match information for financial gain."
Chris Barrett Canberra Times Sports writer
When Adam Zampa smashed a six in the final over of the Big Bash match between Adelaide and Perth on Monday night it was cause for the Strikers to celebrate.
The Strikers were overwhelming outsiders needing seven runs to win off the final three balls and nine wickets down, with the Scorchers $1.11 favourites. But only seconds later, as Zampa sent the ball soaring over mid-wicket and the rope, Perth all of a sudden flew out to 1000-1.
Adelaide would go on to win and the thrilling climax was not just a great result for the South Australian franchise. It was also a dream scenario for the newest arrival on the radar of cricket's anti-corruption personnel: the pitchsider.
For the man stationed in the crowd with a laptop or a smartphone, the finale offered the most technologically savvy and connected of punters the chance to reap a fortune.
By backing the Strikers at a tasty price, the moment Zampa laid bat on ball — knowing it was headed over the boundary — they would have had the opportunity to get a step ahead of overseas betting agencies waiting for a live feed of scores and slightly delayed television coverage to adjust their odds.
It's in this narrow but lucrative sphere that individuals such as Rajiv Mulchandan, whom Fairfax Media revealed as the British national kicked out of two BBL games in Sydney over the past week, are striving to make a mint.
"The value in knowing what is going to happen is immense," said Brendan Poots, chief executive of Australian-based sports betting hedge fund Priomha Capital. "If you can get that split second advantage the value is incredible. The moment that ball left the bat you could see it was going for six, whereas Betfair and the different data providers will wait for [the six] to happen. That's how they do it."
The practice is being compared with the activity outlined in such compelling depth this year in Michael Lewis' expose of the American high-speed financial trading industry, Flash Boys. The book documents how traders use high-speed underground cables and locate their computers close to the stockmarket's matching engine in an effort to get fractionally ahead of the market.
They have gained a tiny physical advantage over slower traders, measured in only microseconds but, as Lewis revealed, it has been worth millions.
In cricket, the so-called pitchsiders are able to get their nose in front because of television delays into overseas markets of as long as 12 to 14 seconds. Most overseas gambling organisations will have staff in their offices altering the odds based on scores and television coverage. Punters generally will have to combat a built-in delay of six to eight seconds for in-play wagers to be processed, but that leaves a slight opening for the most enterprising.
The ploy does not work with Australian betting agencies - such wagers have to be made with a phone call, not electronically, and Betfair's Australian server prevents in-play betting here on its app and site. But Australian cricket's Twenty20 tournament is clearly seen as an appealing target because the odds on the result can change so dramatically.
Tennis is considered even greater attraction, as evidenced by the affair at this year's Australian Open in which a British man was accused of transmitting live scores to a London sports data provider - or "courtsiding" - before having charges dropped by Victorian police.
Betting industry folks will say it is simply a loophole being exercised by the most crafty- "it's not match fixing, it's just taking advantage of technology," Poots said - and stress that it is not a criminal offence, certainly in NSW where Mulchandan was swooped on by police in and thrown out of the SCG and ANZ Stadium.
Cricket authorities, however, see pitchsiding very differently. Concerned about whose hands information may fall into, and unwilling for their game to be used for such purposes, they are banking on the Coalition of Major Professional and Participation Sports, led by former ICC chief executive Malcolm Speed, being able to successfully lobby governments to stamp it out.
"There is already legislation in certain states that makes courtside betting illegal," a Cricket Australia spokesman said.
"Our conditions of entry reflect that meaning anyone who engages in the practice will be handed over to police.
"We are vigilant about protecting the integrity of the game and that means preventing anyone entering our grounds who might be trying to manipulate betting markets or potentially rely on match information for financial gain."