Kentucky Derby (Part 2)

Those of you that know me well know that I’m not one for spectacle. Give me a deck/patio, good weather and good company and I am happier than a pig in slop. Therefore, when my dad asked me if I wanted to join him at the Kentucky Derby I had to think about it. I’m not a huge horse racing fan like my father is, I really don’t like to gamble that much, and being in a car for 8 hours with my Dad, his cousin Kevin, and my cousin Nick, whom I hadn’t seen in ten years, didn’t strike me as a good time.

No offense guys, but if I’m not driving I’m so miserable. And riding in the backseat it starts to feel like flying overseas, plus you can’t see where the hell you are, the driver always goes too slow or steers weird–I only contemplated throwing the door open just to get the hell out of there once (outside of Columbia on the way home) which is way better than my usual in-flight behavior. That door swings open by my hand at least 10 times in a short flight to Chicago.

So when I said yes I was accepting this as a great bonding opportunity for my father and me. What’s a better way to spend a weekend than going to the Mecca of my father’s passion, the Kentucky Derby!

We left out about four on Friday from my folks house in a roomy Pontiac and got on I-70 to head east passing the awesome Sprint center (below). Not bad for leaning backwards at 70mph huh?

 On a road trip you learn a lot more about the people in the car than you ever knew before. I heard stories about my dad that I did not know before, and quite frankly would not ever repeat for fear of what my mother would do to him if she were to relive some of those stories of the good ole days. She lived them once and I’m sure was just pissed off enough then. No need to poke a sleeping bear.

With old stories being rehashed in the front seat, I was busy creating in my mind what the next day held. I was pretty far off from reality and what it was that I was expecting.

The more times you drive from Kansas City to St. Louis you notice a couple of things:

1. That friggin M-I-Z-Z-O-U billboard is friggin annoying right past Columbia,

2. There are all these different signs with hilarious, quirky suggestions on how one could enjoy the delights of Kentucky Fried Chicken if one were so inclined to. Is it Missouri State Law that KFC, like the post office, has to be in every town? 

A plane dropped out of the sky directly above us on I-70 at 7:30 meaning we are officially in St. Louis, a fact that is painfully obvious when you see all the horribly run down projects on the west side of the city. Every time I see it I can’t stop thinking about how these folks live there…it makes me appreciate everything I have in my life that I take for granted, including hope.

I like to make fun of St. Louis for several reasons. The high school mentality of the town, “Oh yeah, what county ya from?” is a common question amongst St. Louanders. Or the popular sports refrain “In 1985 the Royals didn’t win the World series, they were given the title by umpires.” Yawn. Get something new to bitch about.

How about the fact that in the past 15 years you have gotten boatloads of money for your baseball stadium, your football room (read: dome), the skating rink, and countless other downtown improvements. During that time KC didn’t get anything, now that is some good politicking.

 Right after this picture, you cross into East St. Louis, or as I like to refer to it, The Armpit of America. What is the first thing you see on the side of the road? Not a lemonade stand, but none other than “Larry Flynt’s Hustler Club” in big, bright lights! If you aren’t a Hustler guy, don’t be discouraged, because right next to it is the lesser known but just as gaudy “Hollywoods!”

I wonder why Middle America has the reputation that we have?

We finally ate at around 9 inside of a gas station Burger King. Apparently, fast food has not reached this part of the country. When we finally got back on the road at 11(just kidding, but man it took forever) we were only a short distance from Evansville, IN. That is where we had two rooms reserved at the Motel 6!

When your hotel stay is $45 a night, remember there is a reason. As I put my head down for the night I thought of my wife who was staying at the fine Swiss Hotel in Chicago that same evening. I bet they wash their comforters at least once a week. Anyway, I was applying what she always says about driving on the highway to the current bed sheet situation at Motel 6: it can be paralyzingly dangerous, but you have to just put it out of your mind. (Update: a week later no rashes or bacteria has been detected).

After a carby meal at Denny’s in the same parking lot for breakfast, we headed towards Louisville which was a mere 110 miles down the road.

Once we got there we parked at Freedom Hall (Basketball Arena) and waited to take a tram over to Churchill Downs. On the bus we met some cool guys from the Memphis area, we found out where they were from because of the “Rock Chalk Jayhawk” they said to my dad, referring to his 2008 National Title hat. Nice guys overall, they shared their thoughts on the game with us, though you could see that a month has not been long enough to get over having a title ripped from you with less than three seconds to play.  Similar to a boxer who is hurt or somebody that is thinking of a different time, these guys were dazed as far as fandom goes. I’ve been there.

One of the Memphis guys offered my dad a Grandstand ticket for free. He refused. He wanted to stay with us noting, “You see the inside of one race track, you’ve seen them all.” Bull shit, but whatever lets you sleep at night dad. I’m glad I was able to walk in with you, but still, that would have been great.

We got this picture taken in front of the main entrance, I wish my brother could have been with us.

 

We walked around to the other side where the poor people enter and it was utter craziness.

I knew it was going to be more of a party than I had bet on.

People were going crazy in line, that was really long. Trying to get 100,000 plus through a gate that would have trouble accommodating 5 jockeys was fun.

This is where I saw the second most depressing thing of the weekend. Where people were ditching their aluminum cans before entering I saw a tiny lady of Asian decent crawling around on her hands and knees dragging a plastic sack behind her. She was filling those sacks with cans, totally blocking out her surroundings. Here she was, literally crawling on top of people collecting other people’s trash for such a minuscule amount of money. This was a huge pay day for her, but I still will never forget her face. I took a picture, but erased it immediately.

The first killer hat I saw was near the front of the line, but unfortunately I didn’t read it until that night! She probably thought I was a moron.

We were thoroughly checked for bombs, needles, knives, guns and booze by the military. The lady in front of me was asked if she would rather have a man or a woman pat her down, unfortunately, I was not asked. After I turned my phone, camera and voice recorder on and off for the 19 year old solider I was able to proceed down the tunnel—trying to keep up with my dad who had a hot horse in the first race (the actual Derby is the 10^th of 12 races on the day). I have included a video of the walk in. It was a really cool scene with the saxophone playing in the background. At one point water drips all over me from the top of the tunnel, but I will say it was probably cleaner water than in the Motel 6.

My dad walked over to place the bets, but the race was already being run. He went over and bought racing forms and programs for all of us and was immediately questioned by police to see if he was “re-selling” programs. My dad the grifter.

Its nice to know that the City of Louisville Police Department had things under such control that 6 cops were assigned to the anti reselling of programs detail. More on the cops later.

We got settled in a nice little corner of “Turn 3″ to watch some horse racing and look at the throngs of people. I waited till about noon and my cousin and I went to find the famous Mint Julep’s that you have to sample at the Kentucky Derby.

***Warning***

Mint Juleps at the Kentucky Derby are taken very seriously by the purveyors of Kentucky style whiskey. They are strong, $9 and not very good. In line I was able to get in front of about three women because they refused to step in the mud in their high heels.

 

The infield is a combination of standing rain water, grass, mud, porta potties, trash and 100,000 people who each gladly gave away $40 to get in. That is 4 million dollars without concessions or betting. I think I need to open a race track. It was a blast though. It was a college party that all shapes and sizes attended and the racing was secondary.

Brave souls engaged in Porta Pottie races. That’s when people crawl on top of the row of out-door johns and race across the top. From what I could gather, the goal is to not fall off, slip, get caught by the cops or fall through the top. I learned those goals by watching the results of one of those things happening…it was always bad news for the participant. I did see one guy that may or may not have been dead. He fell and was motionless. Later, military personnel surrounded him in a circle–not letting anybody through as he still hadn’t moved. Deciding that I definitely did not want to see a dead body I bolted.

The people I met were absolutely awesome.

I met Rachel from San Francisco in the betting line, she runs this place: http://www.petestavernsf.com/

I met Chris from Lansing, and two of his pals from Detroit.

I met Bet Michaels who was on “The Exacta of Love” tour:

I met these two jokers, Sal Loushe and Dakota Kasotto from Chicago, who wanted to give a shout out to Rae Rae:

I met Charlie and Anne Johnson from Philly. They won Money, so they were happy. The three on the right were related, but I can’t remember their names.

I met a Nun, that later exposed himself, fortunately I was spared:

This guy…

Most of all I had fun because I got to spend some time with my Dad doing what he loves to do, bet the ponies. Here is a picture I took of an old Derby Day racing forum he had on him that looks like a bus map…he is a damn nutcase:

Afterwards, we decided to walk back to the car instead of taking the bus. Big mistake, we took a wrong turn and walked the wrong way. Thanks to another one of Louisville’s finest who sent us in the wrong direction by about two miles…still mad at that punk. I wish I would have written down his badge number because I just love when somebody who swears to “protect and serve” us, doesn’t give a crap. Doing your mama proud buddy. 

With that being said, overall I had a blast and hope that it is a start of a new tradition, one that all of you should experience once in your lives.

Kentucky Derby (Part 1)

Hey kids,

Here is what I am gonna do. I am going to write up a huge piece with pictures, video, quips and all that stuff on my experience at the Kentucky Derby later in the week because I have to do several stories for the paper on Regionals this week on the Bonner teams. But to wet the appetite of my wonderful readers, I will post what I submitted to my editor. I will be really happy if it is published, but I doubt it will be. Also, this is something I want to get out of the way and would really rather not dwell on, so here you go.

On the first Saturday in May the place to be is Louisville, KY for the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs. It is a destination that is listed on most everyone’s sports “Bucket List,” and for good reason. People flock from all over the world to sip a mint julep and gawk at the incredible hats that women display, some with exceptional balance, delicately maneuvering through the mud—a horse race track is not exactly a grand ballroom.

The 134^th Run for the Roses attracted the second largest crowd ever to see the race, 150,000 plus. They were treated to one of the most dominant victories in many years at the race when Big Brown ran away with it by five and a half lengths over the second place horse, Eight Belles.

It was a great day all around for horse racing. Hopes of a Triple Crown contender floated through the crowd, a feat that has not been done since Affirmed in 1978. And then there was the filly, the horse that Presidential Candidate Hillary Clinton urged her supporters to bet on, noting that she could run well with the big boys.

This filly ran second with the boys, tying for the best finish for a filly since Winning Colors won it in 1988.

However, the shine was quickly taken from this day. Eight Belles broke both ankles and was euthanized on the spot shortly after the finish line.

If one was seated in the infield, like over 100,000 onlookers were,  there was little chance to know it happened until later. In the grandstand some saw, but even Eight Belles owner Rick Porter was unaware that the filly fell. She was put down before he could stop celebrating the second place finish with trainers and family members.

It is unfortunate for the sport that is trying so desperately to climb back into the American mainstream to have such a gruesome event unfold on its biggest day in front of thousands of casual, “potential” fans.

The real tragedy is that many tracks nationwide are switching to the new synthetic type track to decrease injuries in favor of the traditional dirt tracks like at Churchill Downs—one which officials have said that they are uninterested in changing because of the storied tradition.

It is unknown whether or not the new type of track could have saved Eight Belles on Saturday, but it will certainly increase pressure to examine all options to make the sport safer. Remember when NASCAR made the Hans device mandatory for its drivers shortly after several deaths?  There was push back from the sport’s biggest names initially, but they quickly learned that if your attractions had a better opportunity of survival it meant that the sport’s popularity would only grow and everyone could prosper.

Nobody wants to go to a sporting event and see a living, breathing person or animal die. Horse racing has to fix this if it wants to carve out a niche in the twenty-four hour a day sports world.

People may attempt to paint this in a similar ilk that the dog fighting uproar caused when Michael Vick threw it on the front page of newspapers everywhere.

It is not the same.

 For the most part, these horses are treated like royalty. Barbaro, a great horse that won the Kentucky Derby two years ago sustained a leg injury in the second leg of the Triple Crown that most thought would cost him his life immediately. Every possible procedure was performed to save him. He was able to stud and most reports said he lived happily for a couple of months before he succumbed to his injuries. There are worst ways to go.

This could be a memorable moment in the storied sport’s history and could cause change in even the most tradition-rich environments. No doubt it is a sad thing to see, and it is unfortunate that a horse had to lose its life, but as with most things something really bad has to happen to force change.

 Hopefully the 135^th Kentucky Derby will take place on the safest track possible in front of yet another record crowd. Only time will tell how this will play out.