by Bob Carson

Editor’s Note: The USTA website is pleased to present freelance writer Bob Carson and his popular “Outside the Box” features. This monthly series is a menu of outlandish proposals presented with a wink — but the purpose behind them is serious. The views contained in this column are that of the author alone, and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of the United States Trotting Association.

Bob Carson

Friends who frequent casinos surprise me when they remark how “safe” and “energized” they feel in the casino environment. To them, a casino environment is a fun, relaxing and slightly dangerous refuge from the real world outside of the glass doors.

My reaction is the opposite. The relentless plinking, chiming and the calliope tunes have an artificial cheeriness that unnerves me. The soft lighting, swirled carpeting and the maze of machines are disorienting. The players leaning forward, some on stools with a stretchy cord tethering them to a machine depresses me. For my personality type, the casino represents manipulation and isolation, so escape through those glass doors cannot come soon enough.

Neither reaction to the casino environment is wrong. Neither reaction is admirable or unworthy. Horse race gamblers and casino players are different cats, driven by different wants and needs.

Many of us have had the experience of introducing acquaintances to racing and discovering, to our dismay, they do not take the bit and run. Getting a person to show up at a racetrack doesn’t make them a fan of horse racing anymore than going into a garage makes them a car.

The psychology of the customer must be factored into all decisions as we face the future. A key question is how much should we push to try to convert the casino players? Is there a cost effective tipping point where we can at least get enough casino players to crawl over to horse racing? Or should we accept the fact that it is difficult to catch trout in a hot tub?

Most people are passive gamblers; to these fine folks, playing a machine is often an escape, sometimes from physical or emotional pain. They move into an almost hypnotic state where the money only minimally matters; in fact, money becomes somewhat of an abstraction. This market segment of gamblers will always be difficult to reach for horse racing.

In horse racing, our targets should be the action gambler, people who prefer games of a different ilk. Action gamblers gravitate toward poker, blackjack, racing, football, baseball and basketball. Action gamblers are often men with domineering, controlling and calculating personalities. These action people may be fewer in numbers, but the good news is that they are susceptible to our game and should they get involved, they will be doggedly determined.

A few of my friends are of this compulsive ilk. Harness racing is not their affliction but they all have profiles that would make them likely prospects; they have disposable money, high intelligence and are action oriented. These personality traits lead them to become blissfully enthralled with a topic to such a degree that eventually they look up from their niche and find themselves experts of epic proportions.

The topics can be small. My old friend, Tony, became fixated with an obscure 1985 film titled Mischief. Who knows why?

The topics can be bigger. Even though he was born after the era, my pal, Joe, knows more about Doo Wop music and performers than anyone. He has spent a lifetime of time, effort, travel, money and research on the subject.

The topics can be historic. Gene Carney was the foremost expert on the infamous “Black Sox baseball scandal of 1918.” He literally wrote the book on the subject, a very detailed book, and was working on a follow-up book, eagerly investigating newly unearthed data when he passed away unexpectedly.

People who have one passion are susceptible to secondary passions.

Harness racing is one of my passions. Six months ago, a friend nudged me to investigate an alt/rock musical group named The Go-Betweens, from Brisbane, Australia. Don’t ask me why, but I have developed an obsession with their music.

My guess is that most of you who have found harness racing have a bit of this obsessive gene in your DNA. You have fallen for our somewhat obscure sport; you wear the exotic nature of our game as a badge of honor, you may have a touch of smugness in your knowledge, and letting go of this passion will be difficult.

What does this all mean? To me it means niche marketing. We should fish, and fish hard, in small pools. The pools should not be filled with terrestrial animals that will never find us appealing. Finding one action gambler is more valuable to the sport of harness racing than a hundred casual fans that wager a few dollars a year or just watch an occasional horse race because of the majestic animal.

Personality types do not walk around with labels on their foreheads; therefore occupations and existing entertainment choices can act as markers to identify potential converts to horse racing.

Social media and the internet allow us to sort and filter in a manner that was never before possible. Data mining, the new wave of marketing, takes every bit of each electronic footprint we leave behind, from buying books to dental floss, to find customer profiles. We can find niches of niches. We should be able to design paradigms that give us promising fishing grounds. Action people could be found in areas such as upper level advertising, natural gas and oil speculation, mathematicians, or the people who arrange office betting pools for sporting events.

The psychological quirks that drive us are difficult to explain. Harness racing, especially the gambling aspect, should be appealing to the “action” segment that could rejuvenate our sport. Let’s use modern technology to research and find the pools that are fishable, and then let’s cast a few lures.

Time to go handicap my nightly race card, and then I will play “Head Full Of Steam” by the Go-Betweens for the hundredth time. Can’t help myself — I’m that sort of person.