Well, well, well Zjelko, the plot thickens.
This picture above was taken by one of our undercover investigative operatives yesterday at the race meeting held at the Cluden Park track in Townsville.
Notice any similarities with the bloke that another one of our people caught in the camera lens at Ipswich on Saturday?
Yeah, that’s right.
I wonder if they’re brothers? Or clones perhaps?
Like their so-called ‘journalist’ mate Graham Potter – who takes the images he sends to Sydney from the mounting yard, because he holds a media accreditation granted by Racing Queensland, even though he only writes one couple of hundred word story a week – the men dressed in hats, shorts and sneakers are working for the world’s biggest punter Zjelko Ranogajec.
Guess what sort of clobber their publicity shy boss who studiously avoids publicity and dresses to melt into a crowd always wears?
Even the smartest blokes in the world have an Achilles Heel.
The trick is being able to spot it.
The Its Not Normal team have.
See how the the innocuous looking bloke at the top is wielding a long lens camera, and the equally ordinary looking bloke in the picture at the bottom has a pair of binoculars slung over his left shoulder?
Neither the camera nor the binoculars are what they seem.
Both are in fact hugely expensive covert live recording devices that their boss has provided them as a tool of their trade, and their phones are top of the range pieces used to transmit in an instant the images they are taking across to fellow members of the 100 plus strong team that Zjelko Ranogajec employs in his global gambling operation that turns over billions of dollars in bets each and every year.
What these men at Ipswich and Townsville – and men just like them looking at horses in the mounting yard and watching races from the stand at every track running a TAB meeting around Australia – are doing is twofold.
The first is that they are sending the Ranogajec team live vision of the starters in each race as they parade in the mounting yard before a race and as they perform their preliminary warm-ups on the way to the starting barriers.
The purpose of this part of the exercise is that Ranogajec has a group of equine thoroughbred experts that includes vets and former jockeys and trainers in the team, and these employees make assessments of the fitness of the horses and note any potential energy sapping issues such as whether they sweat up or play up in the yard or on the way to the start.
These factors are then input live into the mega computer program run by Ranogajec and his partners – who include David Walsh, the nerd genius and visionary who built MONA, one of the world’s great museums – and form an important part of the 200 odd variables built in to the top-secret gambling program that determines which horses the team places millions of dollars of bets on around the world on in each race.
The second and more instantly lucrative aspect of these plain looking men’s jobs is transmitting the live stream of each race directly to the Ranogajec team in real time via the the high tech equipment that are clothed as ordinary cameras and binoculars, but in fact is the same as that used by covert operatives of the US military when planning and executing missions such as the assassination of Obama Bin Laden that are transmitted live to the operational leaders directing the play, who are sitting in control rooms set up in naval ships perched off the coast or in secret bunkers in the US of A.
The reason that the men in hats are doing this is simple, and can be reduced to just three words.
In play betting.
Due to various technological factors there is a delay of between approximately 10 and 40 seconds between the time the commercial broadcaster recording and sending ‘live’ images of races interstate and overseas captures the images and the time they are received and broadcast in the State or country to which they are sent.
Bookies and totes in many of these jurisdictions that receive the ‘live’ stream take bets ‘in play’ throughout the race, and will accept wagers made at fast varying odds all the way until the horses reach the winning post.
If you are watching the race live and know the result before it shows on the live stream to somewhere like (for example) China -which hosts massive gambling exchanges whose wagering turnover dwarfs that of competitors such as Betfair – and if you can place a live bet faster than the satellites and fibre lines are broadcast the race to the country where you are putting the bet on, then all of a sudden your the owner of a license to print money that is limited only by how much you can get on.
Zjelko Ranogajec’s team can put bets on faster than the pictures can be sent using the standard technology employed by the broadcasters, and their computers can place the bets in a matter of milliseconds.
All they need is a couple of seconds head start and the result of the race.
Enter the men in hats.
The two in the photos, and Graham Potter who owns the website horseracingonly.com, and a fat little red faced man that writes for his site, whose father always seems to be right by the side of the RQ accredited ‘media man’ wherever he goes, and who gives the impression that he couldn’t call the result of a photo finish if his life depended on it, but is really just calling in code.
They say the Bantam always wanted to be Alan Jones. I guess in his own potted path of a cash for comment way he’s finally made it.
They are all real smart these Zjelko fellas.
Smart with numbers, smart with cash, smart at calling, smart at school, smart about all manner of things.
The smartest two blokes I ever read though were one fella who rode a donkey and died on a cross, and another who slept at night on the streets of Athens in a wine barrel.
If they were alive at the time I’m sure they would have read Shakespeare, just like me.
Enter a fool from Geebung.
A mad punter with a predilection for threesomes, a hatred of headwear, and a rare skill at staying up all night and dressing like a bum so that even the sharpest of blokes like Brisbane’s once leading rails bookie mistake him for a drunk.
A bloke whose Mum always said he should have been an undercover copper, a child sex abuse victim who became a chameleon in his teens so that people wouldn’t realise that he’d been raped by a pedo, or suss out just how broken he was inside.
A fella who came out a couple of years ago at a Royal Commission about child abuse and hasn’t given a tinkers cuss about what people other than the love of his life and saviour Maggie think of him since, and hates the secrets and lies that cursed him to thirty years of nothingness so much that in order to expose them he thinks nothing of donning a disguise that makes people want to avoid him and causes dodgers to treat his presence with casually reckless and foolish disregard.
A man without a hat named Archie, who went to Ipswich on an undercover assignment on Saturday and played the world’s biggest gambler at his own game, and then did it again three days later at Townsville, has now written this article you’re reading in the hope that it might pop one little part of the Zjelko Ranogajec scavenging operation’s pernicious and deceitful free money printing world.
You should never have charged me for that sh*t autobiography of yours that I pinched from Mona a couple of years ago Mr Walsh. With all your millions you didn’t the money, but when you took it off my credit card without notice it left me real short.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I hold grudges forever.
And Geebung boys always get square.