This is the time in the sporting calendar when there’s a dearth of options — baseball is just getting started and hasn’t had a chance to build storylines; the NBA playoffs are a grinding borefest; and the NHL playoffs are not attracting the casual non-hockey fan (or any fans really).
But this week, that all changes as the “Greatest Two Minutes In Sports” once again takes center stage. Yes, I’m talking about the Kentucky Derby. Sure, I know the “Sport of Kings” doesn’t have the mythical quality it once held, and each year fewer and fewer elite horses come along to change that. Tracks are closing down or looking for alternate sources of revenue, such as slot machines, to make it. And that’s sad.
I have always had at least a passing interest in the ponies, though never put any financial stake into it until the early 1990s. I was seven years old when Secretariat was America’s most popular sports figure, and vaguely remember his historic Belmont run,
still considered by many observers the most amazing, stunning sporting moment they’ve ever witnessed.
The first time I truly remember following racing was in 1975, when we were doing some class project on odds or money or something. Our teacher wrote down the names of the horses in the race and asked for a show of hands as to which one each student thought would win. I was the only one to raise my hand for Foolish Pleasure — partly because I liked the name and partly because I had heard of him, albeit in passing — and looked like a genius when he came across the finish line first. I remember the match race between Foolish Pleasure and the wonderful filly Ruffian, who tragically broke down not long into the contest. I remember poring over newspaper accounts of what went wrong, and really started paying attention to the sport much more. After that it was Affirmed and Alydar, Seattle Slew and Spectacular Bid capturing my attention.
I got into it more for the backstories — the filly Winning Colors beating the boys in 1988; Unbridled in 1990, with the memorable scene of trainer Carl Nafzger telling owner Frances Genter “he’s a winner Mrs. Genter, he’s a winner! I love you Mrs. Genter”; 1991 winner Strike the Gold, which was trainer Nick Zito’s breakthrough; and many others.
It never really became a money endeavor for me until 1992, when my dad and I would head to a local track and go over the day’s races in anticipation of the Derby. At that time I was a novice when it came to understanding the Daily Racing Form — fractions and graded stakes and Beyer figures were Greek to me. I was looking more at names and who the “experts” liked, and when that didn’t work I figured it was time to really get cracking on figuring out how to diagnose and project horse races.
The work must have paid off because the very next year was my first ever score. I knew Jerry Bailey was a great jockey, which played a part in my decision, but his mount this day — Sea Hero — was nothing special as a three-year old leading up to the race (though he later turned out be very solid the rest of the year). Yet there I was, going to the window and plucking down my hard-earned two bucks on the 13-1 shot. Imagine my surprise when this happened:
I wasn’t completely certain what had happened, but when it sunk in that I was a winner there was no turning back. There is very little in the world that feels as good as cashing in on a horse race, especially when it’s a double-digit choice.
The next opportunity I had to cash was 1996, when Grindstone came across the finish line first. The funny part about that is I had bet on stable mate Editor’s Note — a little bit because I was in the journalism biz at the time — and when that horse didn’t cross first it looked like a loss. I hadn’t gotten down the idea of “coupled” wagering — get two horses for the price of one — so didn’t know I had won (and my other bet of Cavonnier finished second). Ironically, Jerry Bailey was once again aboard in one of the great finishes in the history of the race.
The high point of the Derby for me came in 1998 — yet another great finish — when Real Quiet nipped hard-charging Victory Gallop at the wire, setting the stage for what would be three great Triple Crown races between the two.
Not only did I have Real Quiet to win (at 8-1 odds) but had Victory Gallop with him in an exacta. Not sure what the odds were, but I do remember looking at my ticket, looking at it again and saying to my dad “I think I hit the exacta.” After a couple of moments it sunk in, and I went back inside the gates (we had moved to the comfier confines of our vehicle in order to make a quick getaway … spoiled that one I did) to collect my $212. To this day it’s still the biggest payday for me in racing, yet one that I’m always looking to beat.
There have been other great stories and horses — Funny Cide in 2003, purchased for $22,000 as a yearling, not the going rate for great ones; Smarty Jones in 2004, second in my heart only to Secretariat and thisclose to winning the elusive Triple Crown; Barbaro, the majestic champion who broke down two weeks later at the Preakness; and Street Sense in 2007, the first horse I ever saw race live prior to the Derby.
I have a buddy who seldom follows racing, but does get into the Derby. We were talking recently and he said that there’s no real reason to follow the Derby if you aren’t betting on it. To an extent he’s correct. How many people would watch horse racing for purely the competitive aspect? Not many I guess. He tells me, “it’s not a sport, it’s a bet”, and while at the heart of the matter he’s right, I like to think there’s something more to it.
The stories of the jockeys and the trainers and the horses are usually what pull people in — to the point where sometimes the race is secondary. But everyone has an opinion that day, whether grizzled railbird or neophyte bettor. They all get behind their horse and go wild, hoping theirs will be there when the famed “and down the stretch they come” is uttered.
I’ll be there once again — well, in front of the television — to take it all in, and this might be the year when my six-year drought ends. But even if it doesn’t, I will enjoy yet another spectacle as one of the greatest sporting events in the world unfolds.
TAKE A MINUTE
I’m typically pretty ambivalent about Superchunk … I’ve liked some stuff, most notably “Watery Hands” and “Hyper Enough”, but I don’t go out of my way to listen to them. That said, their new song is pretty good … it chugs along with a punk sensibility and just enough jangliness and harmony to make even the gloomiest day seem OK. The fact that the video’s protagonist acts like Toonces doesn’t hurt, either.
College Football Focus 