Nathan Hindmarsh reveals the story behind his $200,000 pokie addiction
Nathan Hindmarsh
Parramatta captain Nathan Hindmarsh. Picture: Justin Lloyd Source: The Daily Telegraph
IN an exclusive extract from his autobiography Old School Parramatta captain Nathan Hindmarsh reveals how he lost more than $200,000 on poker machines during a six-year battle with gambling.
I was a regular first-grader for Parramatta and had played for Australia. I knew my place on the football field and felt great every time I ran out to play. Off the field, though, I was still all over the shop. After three years of batching, I was as shy as ever and people mistook my shyness for rudeness. The truth was I didn't know many people beyond the club, and I had to fill huge chunks of empty time and space in my weekly routine. I trained for a couple of hours in the morning, and again in the afternoon.
But when you're only 18, there isn't much else to do. I had no other job. You can only play PlayStation for so long. So when we went down to the pub after training for a few drinks or for a feed, I got into the habit of drifting over to the poker machines to fill my spare time.
I was bored rather than lonely, bored with too much free time and nothing to fill it with. I didn't have anything to go home to, I had no domestic responsibilities or people to take care of.
It started, harmlessly enough, one night in my first year with the club. After a few drinks at Parra Leagues Club with Andrew "Bobcat" Ryan and a few other boys, I put a dollar in one machine and out spat $37 in bright shiny one-dollar gold coins.
I remember exactly how many of them rattled out in front of me. That's how it all began: one small, stupid payout, the jingling of those lovely coins. I took the money home and put it in a jar. I would see the coins glint at me as I headed out the door, and a few nights later I picked up the jar and walked across the road. Let's see if I can do this again. I was hooked.
I didn't play every day but I played most days. The club was where I socialised most nights, and if I got bored I'd start thinking about the pokies: the thrill, the possibilities, the noise, the lights. I couldn't sit in the pub, one-on-one with a mate, and have a few beers without having to play them.
If it was quiet in the apartment, and no one else around, I'd pick up $50. It's only 50 bucks. That won't break the bank. I'll go and play the pokies.
Soon, every so often a group of us - Mich, Nathan, me and Crouchy - would play together after a meal. I behaved just like they did. I didn't go crazy, didn't make any noises; I'm not the type to bang the glass or show my frustration.
As I just kept quietly putting in notes, no one realised how hooked I was. After the others had gone home, I would hang back and try to win the unwinnable contest. Most of the time, though, I would just play alone. When I first started playing the pokies, my monthly salary was $950. One day I blew it all in half an hour. I had no money and I had to get some from somewhere.
No way was I going to ask Mum for it. I rang the old man, a hard call to make.
"Dad, can I get some money off you?" I was embarrassed and felt sick in my stomach. But Dad understood. He was a pokie player himself from way back.
"No worries, mate, try not to do it again," he said. Dad was good about it. Mum would have given me a big lecture and that's what I didn't want to hear.
If I was sober I wasn't too bad; I'd pull back a bit. But if I drank alcohol, the hankering was worse and I couldn't control the urge. If I went to the pub, I'd spend $1000, easy. For a guy who had just started playing footy, that was serious money.
As my salary increased, so did my habit. I'd max out the ATM card, then wait until midnight when the account ticked over to a new daily allowance, and I'd do it all over again trying to win back all the money I'd lost.
Sometimes I would, sometimes I wouldn't.
Nathan Hindmarsh
Parramatta captain Nathan Hindmarsh. Picture: Justin LloydSource: The Daily Telegraph
HARD TO RESIST TEMPTATION
I tried to walk away from the pokies but the temptation was everywhere.
When I went home to Robertson on the weekends, after saying hi to the family and getting a feed I'd be at the club and sitting at the pokies. I don't think Mum ever actually twigged that I had a problem or knew how much I was spending.
She still doesn't know, even now. Brian Smith didn't know about it either. The team knew about the playing, but nobody really spoke out. Players like to allow other players their own space. The way they saw it was: It's not a problem until he says it's a problem. And I never said it was a problem.
Later, I shared a flat with Daniel Wagon. Most nights we'd go to the pub for steak and a couple of beers. He'd be quite happy to sit and talk to mates while I slid off to the pokie room. Every now and then, though, Wags would get the shits with me.
"Come out and have a beer. What are you doing in here?"
So I wandered out, but then crept back in again, lured by the thrill of the tinkling coins, the bells and whistles. Of course, alcohol only added fuel to the pokie fire. You lose your inhibitions, you relax a lot more. If I didn't drink I'd be nervous and shy and I wouldn't know what to do. I'd go straight to the pokies for comfort.
Occasionally I'd play with Mick Vella; he would be open to a quick session. But Mick was more of a social player and would leave after losing $50. Occasionally he put a bit more in, but mostly he knew when to leave. I kept trying to bring him over.
"C'mon Mick, let's go and do the pokies."
"Nah. I'm off them, I'm off them."
And he was as good as his word. Mick would admit to putting a fair bit through, but he wasn't close to being in my league. He always played within his budget. Sometimes he had to spot me, but he had no idea of the hole I had dug myself into. I never felt guilty while I was in there. At the end of the night, when I trudged out of the pokies room, Daniel or Mick would look at me. They wouldn't know exactly what I'd lost but knew it was bad.
Then they would have a laugh about it. After four or five hours of playing, which was common, I had to get Wags to buy me a beer because I had no money left.
The players were cool about lending me money. They don't blink about that sort of stuff, apart from Mick Vella, who kept a tab on his phone and kept reminding me of what I owed him. He still thinks I owe him from ten years ago.
"I won't worry about the interest, Hiney."
"Yeah. Thanks, Mick."
Other than Mick, none of them worried about handing over a $50 note. Of course, that grew into a couple of hundred. They didn't worry about that either. They knew I was good for it. In my early days we got paid the second Friday of every month, and as soon as the money came in, I repaid my debts.
Mick and the others could laugh because no matter how much money I was losing, it didn't seem to have any effect on my life or career, so there was no evidence that I had a problem. It never affected the way I played. The money was gone, but on the surface I was able to do what I wanted.
Occasionally I had to be really tight with money for two weeks until payday. I would try not to go out, but if I didn't keep myself busy, I would end up pining about the pokies anyway.
It was a vicious circle.
TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS BLOWN
I'd go through $1000 a night, a few nights a week, if I had the money.
It was a huge problem, and I know I wasn't the only one. There are plenty of footballers with spare money and lots of time on their hands. Some blokes were worse than me. It wasn't spoken about; there was a code of sorts about your private life, good and bad. Unlike others, I never got into trouble with bouncers or debt collectors, and I never gambled on horses or in casinos, It was just the pokies.
Sometimes I'd blow up to $4000 a week, although sometimes I went through that amount in one night. That was my max. When it got to that level, I'd be borrowing from my teammates. I'd wake up the next morning and feel like shit. It was worse when I borrowed to gamble, though I never had trouble paying it back.
I would have maxed out my credit card at least two hundred times, with a limit of $1000 a day. All up, I blew a couple of hundred thousand dollars. That's right: I had thrown away $200,000 by the time I was in my early twenties. It was such a waste. I think about all the things I could have done with that money: I could have owned the house I'm sitting in now, or I could have put a lot more towards a house or an investment property. It was a hard lesson learned. I would have liked not to have done it but I couldn't stop myself.
HIT WITH A GAMBLING HANGOVER
Strangely, my poker machine addiction never affected my performance on the field.
Once I was out on the paddock, I wasn't thinking about what I'd lost. But it did get on top of me at training. I'd be pressing weights and thinking about what I'd spent, why I'd done it.
It also knocked me around physically. You get disorganised because you're out all night playing pokies. I'd look up and see the clock showing 4am. I would run out of money, get the shits and go home. The mornings after those sessions were hard. When I did my dough, I'd be down, very disappointed with myself. I'd see Wags when I woke up and I would be shitty, but he didn't give me a hard time.
He wasn't like that - and I was never like that with him. But he could see the pain in my face; they call it the gambling hangover. All these thoughts run through your head. Geez, I could have put $100 worth of petrol in the car. I've got rent to pay.
I knew I had a problem. Plenty of players played the pokies, and some of them had a problem, like I did. They thought they were under control; so did I. I wasted a couple of hundred grand, though I'm sure there are players out there who would have spent a lot more than that on gambling.
In 2001, I signed a new contract with Parramatta. I was in demand from my club, I was playing for my country, but I could lose $1000 to $2000 a day. I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, but on the other hand I wasn't going to tell anyone I needed help. I regret losing that money and not talking to someone earlier. But it wasn't easy because I wasn't alone; everyone played the pokies, I was just doing it more.
As long as I could keep the habit separate from my responsibilities on the field, it never got on top of me.
And while Parramatta kept playing well, the next season would keep my adrenaline going for all the right reasons.
BUY HINDY'S BOOK HERE.
http://www.heraldsun.com.au/sport/nrl/nathan-hindmarsh-reveals-the-story-behind-his-200000-pokie-addiction/story-e6frfgbo-1226430355111
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