Monday, January 26, 2004
Pastime, passion or addiction?
By Ed McNamara
Special to ESPN.com
LAS VEGAS -- Amid the chaos in the casino basement, you could
feel electricity not connected to any power source. From the wired crowd
came intermittent shouts of joy and frustration as horses raced across
hundreds of television screens.
This is how some grown-ups have fun.
If playing thoroughbreds is your pastime, passion or addiction,
the race and sports book at Bally's Las Vegas was your nervous nirvana
last weekend. Two hundred sixty-one men and women slugged it out Friday
and Saturday in the fifth annual Daily Racing Form/NTRA National
Handicapping Championship, and the stress was enough to fry the brain of
the most battle-hardened gambler.
The contest's finale typified the insanity. The last chance for a
life-changing score came in a maiden race for Texas-breds at Sam
Houston. Run in the slop in a driving rainstorm, there was a nasty spill
in midstretch and a blown call by the track announcer, who thought the
12 horse was in front before realizing it was the 2 just before the
wire. One man yelled, "I had the 12 and I thought I was home, but it was
the 2. Damn!"
Oh, this funny old game is full of surprises.
In a city where clocks are taboo, timing meant everything. With
distractions all around, staying focused and organized was almost as
crucial as doping out long-priced winners. A few missteps in the
pari-mutuel minefield, and dreams of victory blew up. Hard-luck stories
were as common as discarded Racing Forms, BRIS past performances and
Ragozin sheets.
For one person, there would be euphoria and glory. For everybody
else, disappointment and regrets. To be the last one standing, you
needed brilliant insights, the guts to go against the grain, and, maybe
most of all, luck. This time, it was Kent Meyer, a low-key, 38-year-old
landlord from Sioux City, Iowa. Meyer's tangible rewards were a check
for $100,000 and the Eclipse Award as Handicapper of the Year. The real
payoffs were bragging rights for eternity and the view from the summit
of a horseplayer's Everest.
With Meyer at the awards banquet Saturday night was his wife,
Cammie. She also accompanied Meyer to last year's contest, where he
finished 32nd, but with a valid excuse. Before the contest, they eloped
to Vegas and officially became a coupled entry at the Elvis Presley
Wedding Chapel.
"Yeah, my wife is a big Elvis fan," Meyer told an amused audience.
"You're not supposed to have distractions when you come to this
tournament, but last year I got married here the day before. I guess
that explains my performance a year ago."
He couldn't have celebrated their first anniversary any better.
Viva Las Vegas, and thank you very much.
Meyer compiled a mythical bankroll of $238.40 based on $2 win
and $2 place bets on 30 races. Although he never was worse than third in
the standings, he had to sweat until the end. Runner-up David Krosunger
of Wallington, Pa., totaled $232.60, only $5.80 behind. A nose here, a
neck there, and Krosunger would have been King of the World.
"I think last year's experience helped me a lot," Meyer said.
"I'd never been in anything like this before, and I was much more
comfortable this time. It's nerve-wracking to hear all the hooting and
hollering around the room. It got to me last year, but I didn't pay much
attention to it this year."
Jersey Gia paid $35.60 to win and $16.80 to place in the second
race at Aqueduct Friday, the first of Meyer's 10 winners. "It seems you
have to hit something early so that you don't start pressing," he said.
"When I hit [Jersey Gia], that got me going."
Among those Meyer defeated was defending champion Steve Wolfson
Jr., a 36-year-old high school social studies teacher from Holly Hill,
Fla. Unlike last year, when big prices came in for him on cue, Wolfson
could never get rolling and make a serious move.
"There didn't seem to be as many opportunities on Day One,"
Wolfson said, "and that just kind of continued for me the rest of the
way."
Your roving cyberspace correspondent didn't do anything,
either, earning only $54.20 after more than doubling that figure last
year. Playing again for charity in the four-team celebrity/media
competition, Eddie Mac managed to finish behind four Penthouse Pets, but
at least Pet of the Year Victoria Zdrok beat me by only 60 cents. Many
did far worse. Six contestants never even got a horse to run second and
ended up with $0.00. It's always nice to find someone to look down upon.
Like Wolfson, I didn't find many live longshots to zero in on.
Turf racing is my game, and this year I couldn't connect with any 12-1
and 7-1 grass first-timers. I was utterly lost in a few races, including
a $5,000 claimer at Turf Paradise and a $3,200 conditioned claimer from
Golden Gate Fields. I have no feel for cheap claimers and almost never
play them. My motto: "Never bet on a horse I could afford to claim."
Although I failed to generate any money for a worthy cause, I did
enrich my favorite charity, my wallet. Exactas worth $79, $65 and $52
and profitable sessions at blackjack and seven-card stud sent me home
about $100 ahead.
Well, it's only money, and it comes and goes a lot faster than
you can keep track. Keeping score can be an obsession, but the object of
the handicapping game is just to keep playing it. Unlike brainless
action such as slots and roulette, horse racing challenges the mind, and
victory brings an ego boost as you cash. It's the best game in the
world, and the sport's greatest challenge is to get potential players to
realize that and to convert them.
The National Handicapping Championship reminds us that people from
all backgrounds enjoy the intellectual challenge of picking winners.
Qualifiers from 94 tournaments in North America ranged from age 21 to 89
and included hundreds of occupations, from cop to track announcer, from
criminal lawyer to abstract artist.
There's a vast and diverse community of handicappers out there,
even if we are always at odds with each other. We couldn't and wouldn't
have it any other way. Join us.
