March 2012
Some say that buying lottery tickets is like a second marriage: a triumph of hope over experience . . . or, less cynically: . . . hope springs eternal in the human breast . . .
Though many people think of lotteries as a modern invention, they are very ancient indeed.
The first persistent mention of a lottery was in the Chinese Hun dynasty, about 200 B.C. It still has a modern equivalent; known as Keno. The first recorded European lottery was in 1465; a raffle organized by Flemish painter Jan Van Eyck to raise money for various building projects.
But we do not think Joe Brown either knew, or cared, about such history. The name of the game was 'How do I get that odd million or two so I can sort my life out?' Clear the debts on all those credit cards foolishly taken out by him and his wife. Neither of them had much understanding of prudence or 'money sense'. If you want something – you get it - and argue later.
I suppose it runs in families; Joe's father, like thousands of others of his generation, had carefully entered the Football Pools each and every week and had the family cowed into silence when he checked the results on the wireless. A ritual well-known in very many households on Saturday evening. When it wasn't football it was 'the horses'. It may be called the sport of kings, but it was a gambling diversion for many of the general population; something else to relieve the drab routine of daily life; trouble was, it could be a quite expensive hobby. The house-keeping budget would take second place while Mr Brown, or his equivalents, would spend twenty pounds before 'winning' one or two. Of course they only talked about the win and not the overall loss; self-deception is a powerful force. In 1961 betting shops (off course betting) became legal and soon became widespread; before that, as I well remember from my father's activities, the average, usually working class, man placed his regular bets with a 'bookies runner' who was to be found in many pubs. This was, of necessity, an under-cover operation. Each 'customer' had used a 'nick-name', to protect his identity. Betting slips (scraps of paper) were handed over, in a clandestine manner, along with the two shillings or so. A typical slip might read: 'Epsom, 2.30, 1sh. E.W. Red Rose – Vick'. (my father's actual nick-name).
But then, in 1994,the government of the day, after much soul-searching, took the plunge and introduced . . . The National Lottery . . . another form of gambling – open to a far greater range of people. Over the years this new attraction took off in a big way – as very many people saw it as a way, however unlikely, of winning really large amounts of money (often running into many millions). It was usually a waste of time and money for the great majority of 'punters' – though it could be seen as an innocent enough 'flutter'. A useful side-effect was the allocation of some of the funds received to 'good causes' which might not, otherwise, receive public money.
Anyway, if my father had been alive when the lottery started I know what he, as a horse betting man, would have said, 'Have I got this right? – it would be like me doing an accumulator, picking the winners of six races, each with more than 40 runners! . . .they must think I'm crazy.'