What was read, when, and what an empty cell means

Eleven operators, and one kind of source

The table on this site holds 11 rows. For every one of them the same question was asked in the same order: what does this operator publish about itself, and where can a reader open it.

Four kinds of document count here. The terms of service. The betting rules, where the operator keeps its settlement clauses. The responsible-gaming and privacy pages, where account handling is described. And the entry in a licence register, where one exists and can be opened.

Four kinds, and the list ends there. A comparison site, a forum thread, a press release repeated by twenty outlets and an operator’s own marketing copy all sit outside it — the last of these whenever it contradicts the operator’s own contract.

One reader opens all four kinds, holds an account with none of the eleven operators, and signs the corrections address at the bottom of every page: the standing record is on who writes this.

Every figure carries its clause

A number on this site travels with two things attached: the clause it was copied from, and the date the document was read. So the withdrawal ceiling on the subject of this site reads as 100,000 € per week, clause 6.12, read on 2 September 2026 — and all three parts stay together wherever the figure goes.

The date matters more than it looks. Operators change their terms without notice, free of any obligation to tell anyone, and a clause number printed alone would claim that we read the edition in force today. What governs is the document at the operator rather than the copy of it summarised here.

This site was lucky with its subject. Thunderpick served its documents live on 2 September 2026, all 75,770 characters of the terms and all 32,099 of the betting rules, so every clause quoted here is the edition in force on that day. That is a better position than a reading taken from an archive: where an operator’s live terms cannot be opened at all, a 2022 archived copy has to stand in, and the date it carries is the date of the capture rather than of today.

A register and a contract are different evidence

The licence column on this site has a source label, and the label is doing real work.

A licence register is maintained by a regulator. It says that a permit exists, against a company name, with a status and a date. An operator’s terms are written by the operator. They say what the operator undertakes to do.

Thunderpick shows why the two must stay apart. A Curaçao register entry prints the number OGL/2024/677/0722 against the holder Paloma Media B.V., with the status Active. The operator’s own terms, read end to end, name no authority and no number at all. Both statements are true. They are simply answers to different questions, and a table that merged them would tell the reader that the operator published something it did not.

Where both sources exist and disagree, the disagreement is printed rather than resolved. Choosing between two documents published by their own authors is not this site’s job.

That disagreement is not peculiar to the subject either. Three more of the eleven say something about their own permission that their register entry does not, and one produces no entry at all: the column, with the company named on each record, is at permits, cell by cell.

Four things this site refuses to do

It withholds the score out of ten. A score needs a formula, and a ranking whose formula is hidden is an opinion wearing a number. The rows are grouped by how strong the evidence behind them is, and the grouping is visible on the page.

It leaves an empty cell empty. Of the eleven operators here, one publishes an amount above which documents are demanded. The other ten leave it to their own judgement, and the cell stays empty rather than borrowing a figure that circulates on comparison pages. The studio column behaves the same way and shows what the rule costs: six rows carry a count taken off a published provider index on a stated day, five carry nothing, and the five blanks are not five small lobbies — the column and what its overlaps do to it are at studios counted. A published threshold at least tells a reader where they stand; a policy that stays unpublished can be applied at any amount and without notice, which is worse than an unfavourable published limit.

It leaves legal opinion to lawyers. A restricted-territory clause is a term in an operator’s contract, and it settles exactly one question: who that operator refuses. What the law where you live permits is a separate question with a separate source. This site answers the first and points at the second. The rest belongs to a lawyer.

It stays silent on routes around an operator’s territorial rules. Clause 3.2 of the subject’s terms closes an account and forfeits its balance for any attempt to circumvent the restriction by any means, and that sentence is printed here because it is what the contract says. Nothing beyond it is printed, in any framing.

What it gets that the others do not is placement: it sits first in the table and appears in a panel on several pages. What it does not get is a different standard of evidence. Its figures come from its own terms with clause numbers attached, exactly like every other row, and it is never placed above an operator that beats it on a figure both of them publish.

Every link to it is marked rel="sponsored nofollow noopener" and passes through a path that is disallowed in this site’s robots.txt and absent from its sitemap. No other operator on this site is linked to at all — their addresses are printed as plain text, because a link is an invitation and these are facts about companies.

When this stops being true

Terms are edited. Registers are updated. Studios are added to lobbies and removed from them.

Every date on this site is the date a document was read, and the further that date recedes the more it is worth opening the operator’s own page before depositing. Where a figure here disagrees with what the operator prints today, the operator is right and this page is stale.