Like Father, Like Son: The Curious Case of Rory Campbell’s Vanishing Millions

The Gambler Who Couldn’t Lose (Until He Did)

Rory Campbell—Oxford graduate, former poker player, and self-proclaimed sporting risk guru—launched his syndicate in 2017, luring investors with promises of untold riches from betting on top-flight football. It was supposed to be a masterpiece of statistical wizardry, the sort of thing to make the nerds at Moneyball weep with envy. Instead, it’s ended up looking more like Fyre Festival with spreadsheets.

Investors, many from the racing and gambling world, handed over sums ranging from £25,000 to £500,000. Some were reportedly linked to the Racing Post, the publication that has long styled itself as the oracle of all things wagering. Yet, as Rory’s betting empire collapsed into a black hole of lost millions, the Post has remained mysteriously tight-lipped.

Why the silence? Surely a multi-million-pound syndicate failure, linked to racing insiders and involving a former Labour spin doctor’s son, would tick every box for a juicy exposé. Instead, it’s crickets. One wonders if the editors misplaced their pens—or their courage—when this story hit their inboxes.

Enter Spin-Doctor Daddy

When the syndicate’s collapse became public, who should appear on the scene but Alastair Campbell, the Labour Party’s original Svengali. Campbell senior immediately rolled up his sleeves and got to work, deploying the same spin tactics that once convinced the nation that Iraq was stockpiling weapons of mass destruction. And if you can sell a war on shaky evidence, surely you can sell a son’s gambling catastrophe as an innocent misunderstanding.

The elder Campbell reportedly helped draft Rory’s public statement—a masterpiece of spin so polished it could double as a Labour Party manifesto. Investors briefing the press about their missing millions? Why, that’s not a plea for accountability—it’s a “desperate briefing campaign”. The Campbells losing £288,000 of their own money? Proof of their “good faith”. And Rory refusing to sell one of his two flats? Well, the man has to keep a roof over his head, doesn’t he? Two roofs, ideally.

Racing Post: All the News That’s Fit to Ignore

But let’s not forget the curious role of the Racing Post, or rather, the absence of one. With some investors allegedly hailing from the racing world, including this very publication, you’d think they’d be frothing to cover the saga. Yet there’s been not so much as a passing mention. Did they not notice a syndicate stuffed with their readers, contributors, or mates losing millions? Or were they too busy publishing tips on the 3:15 at Lingfield to notice a £5 million meltdown?

It’s a peculiar silence for a paper that thrives on the drama of the betting world. Normally, they’d be elbowing the tabloids aside for a story like this. But instead, the Post has adopted the air of a gentleman at a cocktail party who’s just been asked about his tax returns: evasive, flustered, and definitely hoping no one brings it up again.

Perhaps they fear shining a light too brightly on their own back garden. Or perhaps they’re holding out for a tell-all book from Alastair Campbell himself, tentatively titled Spin, Lose, Repeat: A Family Affair. Either way, the lack of coverage is as glaring as a punter trying to bet on a horse named Don’t Look Here.

A Tale of Two Flats

Speaking of glaring omissions, let’s return to Rory’s two flats. While investors scramble for answers—and, let’s be honest, their money—Rory has decided to hold onto one of his properties as though it’s a lifeboat on the Titanic. His logic, apparently, is that selling one flat and part-ownership of another is more than enough sacrifice for a £5 million disaster. After all, it’s not like those investors could use the cash or anything.

This level of entitlement would be impressive if it weren’t so infuriating. It’s as if Rory has internalised the old Campbell mantra: when in doubt, spin the narrative until reality becomes unrecognisable. Meanwhile, his investors are left to ponder whether the Serious Fraud Office might have more success extracting answers—and assets—than they’ve had so far.

The Campbells’ Legacy of Audacity

Rory Campbell’s syndicate collapse isn’t just a betting disaster; it’s a masterclass in the art of shamelessness. Investors are supposed to accept a vague excuse about uncooperative bookmakers, ignore the missing millions, and believe that daddy Campbell’s intervention is a sign of strength, not desperation.

And yet, for all its audacity, this saga raises uncomfortable questions—not least for the Racing Post. Why haven’t they put this story on the front page? Are they too close to the story, or simply too afraid of the fallout? Either way, their silence speaks volumes.

As the investors hold an emergency meeting, Alastair may well be crafting another statement, spinning furiously to keep his son afloat. But even the best spin doctor can’t hide the fact that Rory’s gamble has failed—and that the odds of him coming out unscathed are slimmer than a Racing Post columnist tipping a 100-1 winner.