Jay Cronley 9y

Party of one

Horse Racing

One of them wanted to know what the little numbers, some carrying fractions, meant.

The answer was lengths behind.

The horse in first?

Lengths ahead.

One of them wanted to know where to bet. Another of them said that she had tried to bet over there, had stood in line ten minutes, then had been cussed at by a man rolling an unlit cigarette around his mouth.

One of them wanted to know what the numbers printed in bold face meant.

The answer was it was the Beyer speed rating number.

Three of them wanted to know what that was.

The Beyer speed rating attempted to create a level playing, or racing, field. It attempted to take into consideration all race distances and all racing surfaces and issue a standardized number so that the past performances of all horses could be compared and considered quickly and efficiently. Chief among the intangibles not numbered by a speed rating was the animal's state of mind. Using math on animals could be like using logic in divorce court.

One of them wondered what betting the highest speed rating in every race would get you.

It would almost always get you the favorite, which won about a third of the time, often at odds-on prices, at less than even money. The best use of a speed rating was to identify an improving young horse.

One of them said this was all too complicated.

Another of them said here was two dollars, bet if for me.

Another of them said here was a hundred bucks, bet it for me.

One of them was a politician with a spouse. Another was in show business and spent most of his time looking around for somebody who knew him. Another was an attorney and a spouse.

One of them wanted to know what kind of a case a jockey might have if he or she sued because of the unhealthy and inhuman weight restrictions placed on riders.

Another of them wondered how many sad sack gambling addicts were in the crowd today.

This socialization occurred at our table at one of the three Breeders' Cups I have attended and is in marked contrast to the "Let It Ride" type horse race handicapping and wagering atmosphere where big hunches are spiked with a beer and big victories are announced with appearances on top of tables.

Triple Crown and Breeders' Cup events are to horse race attendance as baccarat is to gambling, it's a world apart from the norm.

Standard horse race handicapping and wagering involves raw emotions and frank language. The Breeders' Cup often involves ties, sport coats, socializing, and tables with tablecloths.

I have never been able to do well in a more formal horse racing atmosphere where lines are long, between-race conversation center on current affairs, and somebody wants to know what everything means.

Here's what happened at the last Breeders' Cup festival that I attended in person. The weather was perfect. The food was sensational. The conversation was literate. The racing was thrilling. And I wiped them out. Being the only horse race "expert" at the table, it became my responsibility to use my extensive experience and pick them some winners and make everybody a lot of money. They all gave me some cash and I brought them back some tickets and distributed them like party favors. Here's your twenty-buck exacta box, here's your straight win, here's your pick four; and so on. Before that first race, the mood at our lovely table was giddy. Before the horses went to the gate, I was asked to guess how much there was to be won at our outpost, maybe thousands.

First, we were obliterated.

Next, we were pummeled.

Then, we were pulverized.

After the first race, one of them took all the tickets that I had bought with their cash and arranged them like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle and found it absolutely impossible that so many wagers could have come up empty as one of the champagne bottles.

For the second race, it was suggested that perhaps I, the only professional horse player among us, keep it simpler.

So I bet us one big, fat win ticket.

The horse ran fourth.

After the third race, when I attempted to start a show parlay, something good happened.

The table fell silent.

That's because we ran fourth.

The questions ceased.

One of them read a business journal.

One of them called home to check on the kids.

Another of them turned a chair to face away from me.

The best Breeders' Cup tip I can provide is to go alone or go with a very good friend.

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