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The Mafia at Saratoga
Sam Toperoff
November 11, 1968
The goal of horse racing is breeding for excellence, and it is a goal often achieved. The bloodlines of horseplayers are less consistent. Even at hallowed Saratoga the fancy ranges from aristocrats to $2 bettors and sometimes it has a salty seasoning of toughs. Meet Sal, Rocco, Vinnie—and a strong-minded dame named Sophie
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November 11, 1968

The Mafia At Saratoga

The goal of horse racing is breeding for excellence, and it is a goal often achieved. The bloodlines of horseplayers are less consistent. Even at hallowed Saratoga the fancy ranges from aristocrats to $2 bettors and sometimes it has a salty seasoning of toughs. Meet Sal, Rocco, Vinnie—and a strong-minded dame named Sophie

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Rocco grunted, "Yeah."

"Well, my only objection to betting horses was that I never thought it was a smart investment, but when I see a guy like Getty, well, I'll invest in him any time. It's sound business principles. Oil wells."

"You trying to say dat you bet two hundred bucks on da owner!" Rocco screamed. Sal looked thoughtful. Tootsie moaned. Vinnie nodded blankly.

"Sound business principles," Sophie repeated.

"But da horse backed in; she didn't even win it clean. What kind of system is dat?"

I gave Sophie $620.

"Thanks, doll," she said.

I stood silent. I certainly did not have the heart to let on that this was not the Getty Sophie thought it was.

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