Monday, July 22, 2002
Playing the dating game at the races
By Jay Cronley
Special to ESPN.com
This story is about horse racing and the single male.
I am a single male.
Horse racing and beautiful women who don't know beans about horse racing don't always mix.
Not knowing beans about horse racing is when she says she'd like to vote for number two.
When last I took a beautiful woman to the horse races, I was very attentive to my companion's conversation and lost $425.
She had been to the horse races twice, Saratoga and Del Mar.
I took her to a simulcast venue where a man crawled across her well-heeled feet looking for tickets incorrectly discarded.
For a food opener, I ordered nachos that came with jalapeno accents the size of okra.
There was no food closer.
My lovely horse race date said that she was not feeling well and I think she was telling the truth.
I drove her home early at speeds approaching 80 m.p.h. and made it back in time for the late Double at Lone Star and hit it right between the eyes with my last five-dollar bill, picking up $60 restoring a semblance of sanity to the night.
When last I took an average looking woman to the horse races, she was extremely inquisitive and kept
pointing at my Form and asking, "What does that mean, what does that mean, what does that mean, what
does that mean?"
At least I got to look at the races and we broke even.
When last I took a nice-looking woman to the opera, everything I would have bet at the horse races won.
I know that looks are not everything.
Neither are looks meaningless.
Decent looks have always gone with gambling, it's tradition.
I know several serious male horse players who are married.
I have no idea how they got married.
True love had to have been the reason.
I know how they stay married.
The serious horse player gives the spouse a serious cut of the winnings. You get to play as long as you
win and put new rooms on the house and a swimming pool out back. This sounds like something out of
"Good fellas," or "Casino." But agreeing to a familial partnership, with rule one being just win baby, is
about the only manner in which a married serious horse player can find the time to consistently pick a winner.
I used to know a few serious male horse players who brought their wives to the races.
How I know one.
Hopefully the others were only transferred.
No matter how much you love one another, it's difficult to gamble hard in close proximity to a spouse, particularly if you're a man.
Gambling is personal and men aren't known for volunteering their innermost feelings.
The serious horse player who brings his wife to the races on a regular basis said this to me, with reference to his lovely bride, the day before yesterday as we lined up to wager: "Don't tell her how much I bet on this Exacta."
When it comes to romance, it is every single horse player's dream to either meet somebody who doesn't mind sharing you with Penn National on Wednesday night, or meet somebody has a similar interest in picking winners.
I know a few women who have married into ritzy horse farms.
But dressing up and reciting bloodlines is different than trying to make sense of Retama.
The horse races would seem to be a good outing for single women.
A friend and I saw two attractive women who appeared to be single sitting at a table at the races last week.
It happens so seldom.
"Do you think they're men?" my friend asked.
Losers would be extremely easy to spot at a horse race track.
Those would be any who flirted during the races.
