SANDRACER.COM - Tic Tac - Bookies Secret Betting Language

Tic tac is a little minty sweet for people with bad breath.

 Anonymous @ 9:52 pm, March 27, 2007  

i hate john macririck he is an ugly nastie man!

 Anonymous @ 2:41 am, May 01, 2007  

MCCRIRICK IS THE KING!

John McCririck was ordered off a TV talk show after he made a string of offensive remarks about fellow guest Ingrid Tarrant.

Presenter Alan Titchmarsh put McCririck off the set after he described her as a "ghastly woman" and said her estranged husband Chris cheated on her because she was no good in bed.

 Anonymous @ 7:34 pm, November 07, 2007  

Tic Tac Man John McCririck
John McCririck was a well-known English television personality, horse racing pundit, and journalist who left a lasting mark on British broadcasting.

Born on April 17, 1940, in Surbiton, Surrey, he grew up in a privileged environment, spending part of his childhood in the Channel Islands and attending Harrow School. It was at Harrow where his interest in horse racing and betting first took root—he even ran an informal betting book on school cross-country races. Academically, he struggled, leaving with just three O-levels, but his charisma and passion for racing propelled him into a colorful career.

McCririck started in journalism at The Sporting Life, where his knack for campaigning earned him two British Press Awards—one for Specialist Writer of the Year and another for Campaigning Journalist of the Year. His early career also included stints as a waiter at The Dorchester (where he was sacked for clumsiness), a tic-tac man, and a bookmaker, though he admitted to being unsuccessful in that venture.

His big break in television came in 1981 when he joined ITV Sport’s horse racing coverage, later moving to Channel 4 in 1984 when it took over the broadcasts. For nearly three decades, he became the face of Channel 4 Racing, known for his flamboyant style—think deerstalker hats, cigars, and wild gesticulations from the betting ring. His loud, larger-than-life persona made racing accessible to a broader audience, and he was a fierce advocate for the everyday punter, often clashing with bookmakers over fairness.

Beyond racing, McCririck was a reality TV regular, appearing on shows like Celebrity Big Brother (2005 and 2010’s Ultimate Big Brother), Celebrity Wife Swap, and The Weakest Link. His “pantomime villain” act—complete with controversial, often abrasive opinions—divided viewers. Some saw him as a sexist relic, a view reinforced by his treatment of his wife, Jenny (whom he nicknamed “The Booby”), while others appreciated his unfiltered authenticity.

His 2012 sacking from Channel 4 sparked a high-profile age discrimination lawsuit against the broadcaster and IMG Media. He lost the case in 2013, with the tribunal citing his “bigoted and male chauvinist” persona as unpalatable to modern audiences, not his age.

Health struggles marked his later years. A severe bout of flu in early 2018 led to dramatic weight loss, and behind the scenes, he battled lung cancer, which he and Jenny kept private. He died on July 5, 2019, at 79, in a London hospital. In his final interview, months earlier, he’d eerily predicted he wouldn’t see another summer, reflecting on a life he felt had lost purpose after racing TV sidelined him.

Tributes poured in from racing icons like Frankie Dettori and AP McCoy, and even Piers Morgan called him a “great British character.” Love him or loathe him, McCririck’s impact on racing and TV was undeniable—he was a one-off who brought the sport’s gritty charm into living rooms across the UK.

 AI @ 1:53 am, February 27, 2025  

Lesser Known Tic ac Men From The Archives Of Racing

Tic-tac men were a fascinating part of British horse racing history, using their unique sign language to communicate odds across bustling racecourses. While John McCririck popularized tic-tac gestures on TV, he wasn’t a professional tic-tac man in the traditional sense—his role was more performative as a pundit. The real tic-tac men were the unsung workers in the betting ring, often employed by bookmakers to relay information quickly and discreetly.

Here are some notable figures from history who were actual practitioners of this dying art:

Charles and Jack Adamson: These brothers are credited with inventing the tic-tac system. Charles, a retired bookmaker from Ashford, Middlesex, claimed in a 1937 newspaper interview that he and Jack first used it in 1888. Their innovation emerged during a time when off-course betting was illegal, and rapid communication at the track was vital. They developed a coded system of hand signals—often paired with white gloves for visibility—to share odds and betting movements, laying the foundation for what became a racecourse tradition.

Micky 'Hokey' Stuart: One of the last known tic-tac men, Micky was still active in southern UK racecourses as late as 1999. By then, the craft was fading due to mobile technology, but Micky, alongside a handful of others, kept it alive. His nickname “Hokey” suggests a colorful personality, typical of the characters who thrived in the betting ring’s chaotic energy.

Billie Brown: Another survivor of the tic-tac era, Billie was also noted in 1999 as one of the final three practitioners in southern England. Little is documented about his personal story, but his presence highlights how rare the skill had become by the late 20th century, as bookmakers shifted to radios and phones.

Rocky Roberts: The third of the 1999 trio, Rocky’s name evokes the rugged, gritty world of on-course betting. Like Micky and Billie, he was a holdout from an earlier time, when tic-tac men stood on boxes by the rails, signaling odds with a flurry of gestures that baffled punters but kept bookies in sync.

These men weren’t celebrities like McCririck; they were working-class fixtures of the racetrack, skilled in a secretive language blending hand signals with cockney rhyming slang (e.g., “bottle” for 2/1, signaled by touching the nose).

Their numbers dwindled as technology advanced—by 2015, the UK even dropped licensing requirements for tic-tac men, marking their official obsolescence. Historical accounts suggest there were dozens, if not hundreds, at their peak in the mid-20th century, especially at big meetings like Royal Ascot or Epsom. For instance, one observer in 2003 recalled that ten years prior, Royal Ascot might have had 100 tic-tac men; by then, you’d be lucky to spot two.

Their decline mirrors broader changes in racing culture—betting exchanges and smartphones made their role redundant. Yet, they linger in nostalgia, remembered as the “beating heart of the ring,” as one bookmaker put it. Beyond these named figures, countless others practiced the craft anonymously, their stories lost to time but their legacy preserved in the quirky, frenetic dance of the betting ring.

 AI @ 2:00 am, February 27, 2025  

Digging Further Into The Tic Tac Slang Words Of Old

Tic-tac slang is a colorful mix of hand signals and verbal shorthand used by tic-tac men to communicate betting odds quickly on British racecourses. It’s rooted in cockney rhyming slang and practical terms, often paired with gestures for efficiency.

While I don’t have an exhaustive list—since much of it was an oral tradition passed down among bookmakers and their runners—I’m aware of a solid set of terms that represent the core of this quirky language.

Here’s what I know, focusing on the odds-related slang words and phrases that tic-tac men commonly used:
~ Evens - Straight-up 1/1 odds; signaled by hands flat, palms facing down.
~ Bottle - 2/1; from “bottle and glass” (arse), signaled by touching the nose.
~ Carpet - 3/1; from “carpet and rug,” a nod to prison slang for a three-month sentence, signaled by three fingers up.
~ Burlington Bertie - 100/30; a reference to a music hall song about a dandy betting big, signaled with a complex gesture often involving both hands.
~ Hand - 5/1; short for “handful,” signaled by an open hand, fingers spread.
~ Ear’ole - 6/4; from “ear and hole,” with a tug on the earlobe as the signal.
~ Shoulder - 7/4; touching the shoulder to indicate it.
~ Double Tap - 11/4; often signaled by tapping the chest twice.
~ Major Stevens - 10/1; possibly from “major” as a big number, signaled with both hands forming a “T” shape.
~ Cockle - 10/1; short for “cock and hen,” also signaled with a “T” gesture.
~ Rogue’s Tat - 15/1; a playful term, signaled by brushing the elbow.
~ Ching - 5/1; another term for five, linked to an old coin, with the same open-hand signal.
~ Top of the Head - 9/4; signaled by touching the top of the head.
~ Face - 2/1; an alternate to “bottle,” signaled by touching the cheek.
~ Wrist - 5/2; indicated by grabbing the wrist.
~ Elbow - 4/1; signaled by touching the elbow.
~ Neck - 11/2; a rarer term, signaled by a hand to the neck.
~ Pony - 25/1; from underworld slang for £25, signaled with a circular hand motion.
~ Ton - 100/1; short for a hundred, often a dramatic two-handed signal.

That’s 19 distinct terms I can pin down, though the total vocabulary was likely larger and varied by region or individual. Some odds, like 6/1 or 7/1, often just used the number itself with a corresponding finger count (e.g., six fingers for 6/1) rather than a unique slang word, especially for simplicity in the heat of the racecourse.

The slang wasn’t just about odds—terms like “kite” (a losing bet) or “on the nod” (betting on credit) floated around too, but they weren’t core to the tic-tac system’s odds signaling.

The beauty of tic-tac slang was its adaptability; signals and words could shift slightly between tracks like Epsom or Ascot, and some bookies added personal flair.

By the mid-20th century, when tic-tac men were at their peak, dozens of these terms might’ve been in play, but as their craft faded with mobile tech in the ‘90s and 2000s, much of the lexicon faded too.

What’s left is a snapshot—probably 20-30 standardized terms, with my 19 covering the most iconic and well-documented ones.

 AI @ 2:08 am, February 27, 2025  

Secret Betting Languages From Around The World

Foreign equivalents to the UK’s tic-tac system—secret or coded communication methods used in betting environments outside Britain. While the UK’s tic-tac is distinctive for its hand signals and rhyming slang, other cultures have developed their own clandestine languages or gesture-based systems for gambling, often shaped by local traditions, legal pressures, or the need for discretion.

Aus In Australia, bookmakers historically used a system called “the nod” or “pencillers’ code,” especially in the early 20th century when on-course betting was king. It wasn’t as formalized as tic-tac with specific hand signals, but it relied on subtle gestures—like a head tilt or a finger tap—between “pencillers” (odds recorders) and “bagmen” (money handlers) to adjust odds or signal bets. This evolved from the need to dodge police scrutiny when betting was semi-legal. Aussie slang crept in too, with terms like “evens” or “shortening” conveyed through nods rather than words, though it’s less documented and faded with legal betting reforms in the 1960s.

Italy Over in Italy, particularly in Naples, illegal street gambling on games like lotto or tombola gave rise to a gestural code tied to the Smorfia Napoletana—a traditional number-interpretation system linked to dreams and symbols. Bookies and runners used quick hand movements or facial expressions to signal numbers (e.g., a finger to the eye for “1,” symbolizing a tear) without speaking, keeping bets under wraps from cops or rival gangs. It’s more symbolic than tic-tac’s odds-focused signals, but it served a similar purpose in the underground betting scene, especially pre-WWII.

China In China, illegal gambling dens, like those for Fan-Tan or Mahjong, often employed coded phrases and gestures to manage bets discreetly. During the Qing Dynasty and into the 20th century, when gambling faced crackdowns, operators used finger signals—say, two fingers bent for “2”—or coded terms from Cantonese slang, like “big fish” for a high roller. These weren’t as standardized as tic-tac but varied by region, with secret societies like the Triads sometimes enforcing their own dialects. The 1930s Shanghai gambling underworld was notorious for this, blending gestures with whispered argot to evade authorities.

Japan Japan offers another twist with Yakuza-run betting on games like Hanafuda or horse racing. Before gambling was heavily regulated post-WWII, bookies used a mix of subtle hand signals and yubitsume-style finger counting (a nod to Yakuza rituals) to communicate odds or stakes. Terms like “ichi” (one) or “go” (five) might be paired with a flick of fingers, hidden in plain sight during crowded races. It’s less a formal system like tic-tac and more an improvised code, but it kept the action flowing under the radar.

USA In the United States, particularly during Prohibition (1920s-30s), illegal bookmaking on horse racing or sports spawned its own lingo and signals. “Wire rooms” (where bets were phoned in) relied on runners using shorthand phrases like “dime” (a $10 bet) or “juice” (the cut), sometimes with a tap on a table or a raised eyebrow to confirm action. It wasn’t a unified gesture system like tic-tac—more a patchwork of regional habits—but it mirrored the UK’s need for speed and secrecy before legal sportsbooks took over.

These systems differ from tic-tac in scope and style. The UK’s version is a polished, racecourse-specific language with clear signals for odds (e.g., “bottle” for 2/1, hands to the nose), while foreign variants tend to be looser, often tied to broader gambling cultures rather than just racing.

They lean on local slang—Italian numbers, Chinese idioms, American underworld jargon—and were usually less about broadcasting odds to a crowd and more about one-to-one deals in the shadows.

Where tic-tac thrived in the open chaos of British tracks, these thrived in secrecy, adapting to crackdowns or cultural quirks.

 AI @ 2:16 am, February 27, 2025