All Bets Are On Again With Demise of British Wager Tax

“Mossy,” as his friends call him, nipped into a William Hill betting shop to put a few quid on the ponies, but he might just as easily have wagered on a game of football, the outcome of an election or the winner of a beauty contest.

“I bet on the Miss World competition, but I always lose on that one ‘cause I back our girl,” the 42-year-old chauffeur said. “Here in Britain, you can bet on golf, football, snooker, two flies walking up a wall. You can bet on anything.”

Almost anything and almost anywhere. Since betting was legalized here 40 years ago this month, Hill, Ladbrokes and other betting shops have become a regular feature of British high streets. It’s not quite the butcher, the baker and the bet-taker, but there are 8,100 betting shops throughout Britain turning over about $10.5 billion a year, according to the Betting Office Licensees Assn.

And now that the betting shops have been freed from a 9% tax on wagers--as the government moves to lure back gamblers who had fled offshore and online--the parlors are laying odds that they will have even more customers.

Although most bets are placed on horses and dogs, more than one “punter” has laid money on a sighting of the Loch Ness monster this year (at odds of 100 to 1), the marriage of Prince Charles and Camilla Parker Bowles (25 to 1) and a split between newlyweds Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones (8 to 1).

Odds on a UFO landing outside the prime minister’s 10 Downing St. residence are somewhat larger: 10,000 to 1.

“Broadly speaking, you can bet on anything, so long as it’s in good taste,” said Cliff Skinner, manager of Hill’s flagship shop on Old Park Lane.

Taste is subjective, of course. No betting on World War III or whether the Queen Mum will make it to her 105th birthday, but Hill’s did lay odds on whether Madonna would walk down the aisle naked when she wed director Guy Ritchie last year. A few people bet that was what all the wedding secrecy was about--and lost.

The U.S. presidential election results proved a popular bet last year, although, as Skinner noted, “we had to wait for you to sort that out properly before we paid out.”

With Prime Minister Tony Blair’s Labor Party running about 20 points ahead in polls, there is little doubt as to the winner of Britain’s upcoming general election. So Ladbrokes is offering odds of 100 to 1 to anyone who thinks that Labor can replicate its 179-seat majority in Parliament.

Ladbrokes expects to see $7 million in bets across the country on the election that is scheduled for June 7.

It is a good bet that it’s right.

When off-track betting was legalized in 1961, public life in Britain was heavily restricted, with short business hours for pubs, many separate bars for women and no Sunday shopping.

“There were only two television channels--and one radio network,” reporter Stan Hey recalled in the Independent newspaper. “If you’d wanted to hear the No. 1 single on 1 May, ‘Wooden Heart’ by Elvis, you had to tune into Radio Luxembourg or the American Forces Network. Homosexuality was a criminal offense, and abortion was illegal. Censorship bore down heavily on films, theater, books and television.”

Legalization brought betting out of pubs and the pockets of bookies’ runners, but gambling was still discouraged. Licensed betting shops had to have blackened windows and curtains over the doorways, to keep innocents from peeking in. On signs out front, the words “Betting Shop” could be only 4 inches tall. The shops weren’t allowed to offer food, televised races or even comfortable chairs--nothing that would encourage bettors to linger.

But bet they did, on public figures and private individuals. One oft-told story is of the father who asked Ladbrokes what odds it would give him on his young son becoming a member of the English soccer team one day. “We offered him 5,000 to 1, and he didn’t take it. The boy went on to become a national team player,” said Sean Boyce of Ladbrokes.

Skinner recalls 10 elderly men who lived in a retirement home near a shop where he worked many years ago. “They were a group of punters, and they wanted to bet on how many of them would still be alive by the next Christmas,” he said. Skinner refused.

Regulations on betting shops were relaxed in the mid-1980s. Televisions were introduced in the outlets. Evening hours eventually were allowed, and then Sundays. But then a 9% tax was imposed on all bets, the National Lottery started up and so did Internet betting, causing about 2,500 shops to close.

Betting companies responded by moving much of their business offshore. Big-time customers would go into betting shops to see the prices, then walk outside to call Gibraltar or Antigua on their mobile telephones.

Now, in an effort to bring business and tax revenue back to Britain, the industry has cut a deal: The government will eliminate the 9% levy, and betting companies will move their businesses back to Britain and pay corporate taxes.

“People like to bet into our system because it’s secure, but up to now the tax has been quite onerous,” said Tom Kelly, spokesman for the Betting Office Licensees Assn. “Now that it’s going to change, we’ll be a major exporter of bets and importing revenue. I think it’s going to make a huge difference.”

So should the millions of pounds spent to upgrade Ladbrokes shops in recent years, a company spokesman said.

Hill, too, has gone for a plusher cafe look, with carpeting and coffee in many of its shops and personal televisions at its flagship store in Mayfair. Located near some of London’s fanciest hotels, the store caters to tourists in Burberry scarves and locals in leather jackets. It’s abuzz with the sounds of coins dropped into slot machines, race bells and excited commentators following the horses. Men whisper “Rubbish” and crumple tickets, while others give a small cheer of “Yes!” and get up to place another bet.

“We have betting at home,” said Jamaican tourist Kevin Levene, 25, “but nothing like this. This is a bit posh.”