The Gambler Who Hacked the Breeders’ Cup

On October 26, 2002, in Delaware, a 34-year-old man was glued to a screen, watching the final race of the prestigious Breeders’ Cup. The stakes couldn’t have been higher. He had already nailed the first five legs of a six-race bet, and the jackpot was worth millions. But the real gamble wasn’t about which horse would win—it was whether he could get away with it.

As he watched, his heart raced. He wasn’t concerned about which horse would cross the finish line. He had already set things in motion to guarantee his win. What he didn’t realize, though, was that he was on the brink of disaster. To understand how he got here, let’s rewind to one year earlier.

A Bored Programmer Finds Temptation

In the fall of 2001, in New York, a senior programmer named Chris Harn was stuck at his desk, facing another monotonous day at his job with Autotote—a company that handled betting systems for horse racing across America. Friends once envied him for landing the job, but now, he was simply bored. The days of carefree fun were far behind him, and corporate life felt empty.

Autotote managed 65% of horse racing bets across the country, processing millions of dollars in wagers. It was a high-stakes environment, and trust was everything. But for Chris, it was a grind. As he stared at the screen, he noticed something odd—a quirk in the data. There were dozens of unclaimed winning tickets. Bets that, for one reason or another, had never been cashed in.

What if someone else could cash those tickets? He wondered. He wasn’t a criminal, but he was tired of always playing by the rules, especially when it felt like everyone else was getting ahead. The temptation was too much, and before long, Chris made up his mind.

The Scam Begins

Chris knew he couldn’t claim the tickets himself—as an Autotote employee, he’d be instantly flagged. So, he reached out to two old college friends, Derek Davis and Glen DaSilva. They were old party buddies from Drexel University who had dropped out without ever getting high-paying jobs. They were more than happy to help.

Chris created a program that allowed him to find unclaimed winning tickets below $1,500—amounts too small to attract attention from the IRS or the betting system. He transferred the barcodes from these winning bets onto blank tickets, which he sent to Davis and DaSilva. The two would then visit tracks across New Jersey, New York, and Pennsylvania to cash in these counterfeit tickets.

In just a few months, the friends banked over $90,000. The scam was working perfectly. But with each win, the risk grew. They needed a bigger score—one that would allow them to cut back on the number of tickets they were cashing.

A Risky Play at the Breeders’ Cup

Enter the Breeders’ Cup. Held every fall, the 2002 event was to take place at Arlington Park, attracting massive betting pools. Chris had discovered a loophole in the betting process. After the fourth race in a six-race “Pick Six” bet, there was a delay in updating the active bets. During this window, Chris could change the bets to match the winners of the first four races and ensure they had every possible combination covered for the final two races. It was a perfect plan—or so they thought.

To avoid drawing attention, Chris instructed DaSilva to sit this one out, leaving Davis to place the bets. On October 26, Davis opened an account at a betting parlour in Catskill, New York, and placed 156 different bets on the Breeders’ Cup, covering every possible combination in the final two races. The cost was just over $1,150.

When race day came, Chris had a problem—he wasn’t scheduled to work. But he couldn’t afford to sit this one out. He sneaked into the Autotote office, made his way to his desk, and executed the plan. He hacked into the system, changed Davis’s bets to match the actual winners of the earlier races, and then covered every possible outcome for the last two races.

The final race ended, and they had won—big. Against all odds, a rank outsider had taken the final race, making Davis the only winner of the massive $3.1 million jackpot. It was far more money than they had ever expected, and it was precisely what would bring them down.

The Downfall

Winning such a huge amount attracted attention. Betting officials noticed a few strange details: the bet had been placed by a brand-new account holder, the combinations were perfect for the first four races, and there were six identical winning tickets—a highly unusual move. Suspicion grew.

When Davis demanded his winnings, authorities began investigating. Autotote soon discovered that Chris had accessed the system when he wasn’t scheduled to work. The evidence quickly piled up—phone records, unusual betting patterns, and Chris’s unauthorized office visit.

On November 12, Chris, Davis, and DaSilva were indicted on charges of wire fraud. Facing mounting evidence, Chris decided to cooperate fully. He confessed to everything, including the earlier unclaimed ticket scam, in the hope of a lighter sentence.

The Consequences

In March 2003, Chris was sentenced to just over a year in federal prison, thanks to his cooperation. Davis and DaSilva, who refused to cooperate, received longer sentences. The $3.1 million payout was eventually divided among 78 bettors who had correctly picked five out of the six races, with each person receiving about $39,000.

Chris walked away from the court with a promise to repay his debt to society—not with words, but with his future actions. The thrill of the scam had turned into a sobering lesson in how greed can lead to a spectacular fall.