The year was 1948: Japan was still recovering from the ravages of war. Bombed-out bridges needed rebuilding, cratered roads needed repaving and railroads had to be relaid. It would cost a fortune, but who would foot the bill?

Corporate and income taxes alone could not cover the cost. But the mandarins believed that citizens were able to contribute more than they let on. So they devised a way to tease that money out -- by introducing state-supervised gambling on horse and bicycle races.

National and local governments would collect gambling profits and channel them into reconstruction. Never mind that the country's Confucian value system discouraged gambling; this was no time for moralizing. The measure became law before the end of the year, and soon afterward betting on speedboat races also got the green light.

Fiscally speaking, it paid off. Long after Japan had brushed off the dust from World War II, yields from gambling continued to fund services ranging from hospital care to the treatment of household garbage. But after the collapse of the bubble economy and a decade of economic decline, many smaller municipally run racetracks that once shook with the roar of cheering crowds now struggle to fill their bleachers -- and many with mounting debts have closed down.

The problems are manifold. For one, racing locales must compete with other gambling alternatives, like pachinko, and with such diversions as cellular phones, video games, even television.

And of course, as in other countries, gambling has always had an image problem. In the early days, despite public misgivings, the business thrived in part thanks to government support. But the regular cast of patrons at locally run venues does nothing to improve the seamy reputation that gambling has acquired.

"Since race meetings are basically held during working hours on weekdays, it's mostly old men, the unemployed and gangster types who show up," said Kosho Yamada, a government adviser on the gambling industry.

The exception are horse-racing tracks run by the state-affiliated Japan Racing Association -- a hit with young couples as well as their elders, in part because of superior marketing. In fact, good PR helped national horse racing grow to become Japan's largest form of racetrack betting. According to Yamada, more money is bet on horses in Japan, and paid to winning jockeys [due to the high purses], than anywhere else in the world.

Less known to non-Japanese, however, are two other major forms of gambling sports -- bicycle racing and speedboat racing -- that are equally exciting, but lack the international profile of horse racing even though they boast combined revenues of 2.6 trillion yen.

Bicycle racing took root in Japan during the late 19th century. As bicycles became widely affordable, more competitors hopped on the saddle and the sport took off. Nineteen racetracks were opened around the country in 1949 alone, the year after betting was legalized. Japan's keirin -- or "competing wheels" -- closely resembles its counterparts in other bicycle-crazy countries: Nine racers line up on the velodrome start line and, when the starter's gun goes off, they pedal like mad over the race distance to the finish line.

But until recently -- when South Korea jumped on the bandwagon -- Japan was the only country where gambling on bicycle races was legally incorporated into the sport on any significant scale.

With so much money on the line, keirin regulations are perhaps the toughest in the bicycling world. "To keep everything fair and square, these standards are rigorously enforced," said Yoshihiro Fukuda, an official at the Japan Bicycle Promotion Institute.

Stringent rules are also applied to speedboat racing -- once again, a betting sport peculiar to Japan. Six competitors in tiny speedboats zip three times around a course marked by two buoys anchored 300 meters apart. The main action occurs at the buoys, where racers try to cut each other off to grab the lead.

The fascinating history of speedboat racing begins with the enigmatic figure of Ryoichi Sasakawa. Straddling the worlds of politics, business and sports, Sasakawa was a right-wing Diet member during World War II. Afterward, he was accused of helping fund Japan's imperialist aggressions and was briefly held as a Class-A war criminal by U.S. Occupation forces after Japan's surrender. Then, however, he wrested control of legalized motorboat gambling in its early years and built it into the giant industry it is today.

Though reportedly once a supporter of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini, Sasakawa nevertheless also drew praise for his philanthropic magnanimity. The Nippon Foundation, one of the many organizations he established before his death in 1995, donates hundreds of millions of dollars a year in motorboat-racing proceeds to humanitarian causes in Japan and around the world.

In spite of the billions of dollars of revenue they generate, bicycle and boat racing have struggled, since their inception, with their image as hotbeds of corruption. In the early days, the sports were dogged by rumors of athletes throwing races for a fee. After the first scandals, the sports lost their credibility as spectators' suspicions lingered on.

In a 1949 incident still discussed in gambling circles today, a riot broke out during a bicycle-race meet in Osaka after the favorite got off to a slow start and finished far down the placings. A week later, near Kobe, there was more mayhem after a bell ringer lost count of the number of laps in a race.

Local organizers enlisted the help of mobsters to keep the peace. But it was a short-term solution at best, as thugs from rival gangs were soon fighting among themselves. Voters started pressuring their elected officials, and there was talk of abolishing legal gambling altogether. In a compromise, gambling was spared and police curbed gang involvement.

Experts say severe punishments have made race-fixing a thing of the past. "Today, the level of foul play is zero," Yoshimitsu Kuromyo, president of the Association of Professional Motorboat Racers and a competitor for the last 35 years, said of his industry. "Any athlete found to have violated the rules will be fired, his pension denied, his retirement allowance nullified." Still, tracks have failed to fully clean up their tarnished reputation, and there is strong resistance from local communities to the construction of new racing complexes. Many residents also oppose "nighters," the evening events held at racing locales. Advocates of gambling, however, say that nighters improve profits and attract a better clientele -- people with jobs who can attend after work.

In Tokyo's Bunkyo Ward, activists have campaigned for more than a decade against proposals to introduce keirin at the area's Tokyo Dome. Also unpopular among locals are the many horse-racing punters who show up at Bunkyo Ward's off-course betting facilities on weekends.

"They're different from regular people, people who work for a living. They come around with newspapers under their arms and red pencils behind their ears. They have a bad effect on children," said Bunkyo resident Koko Muraki, 77, adding that she worried that criminals may be among the punters.

Racing -- business to some, entertainment to others -- is also an annoyance to a large section of society. But at its core, it is about serious sport, about the rivalry of talented athletes who live for no other purpose than to compete.

For a cyclist, it is the challenge of building legs that pump like pistons. For a speedboat racer, it is the challenge of making nanosecond decisions while bucking over the water at more than 80 kph that will determine whether he wins, finishes or is toppled in a rival's wake.

No matter the sport, the spirit is the same. Each athlete wants to outsmart, out-power and out-endure his rivals.

"Doesn't matter what line you're in. Being No. 1 is great," beamed Kuromyo, recalling his own decades of motorboat-racing wins. "The feeling of victory is one and the same."