Betting through your hat
On the list of PLACES TO GO BEFORE YOU GO BROKE, the Kentucky Derby is right up there.
I have been twice and am not quite over paying for both trips, at least in a psychological sense.
One race, I bet $300 to win on something like a 4-5 shot. Let me tell you about that experience. There for a second, it appeared that there would be photo finishes for places first through seventh. Did my horse win? Has any odds-on horse you bet to win with $300 in ATM money ever won? Of course it hasn't.
My idea of a good betting race is one you bet for a reason, not because your $90 room cost $450, not because the race is simply there.
My idea of a positive wagering opportunity is as follows: I am at a roomy and clean table at either the live races or a simulcast joint. If the latter, the area in which I sit is in a hygienically fit state, clean TV screen, relatively clean floor, clear sound. The wait-person wordlessly places drinks to the side, not on the Racing Form. The race to come is a $5,000 claiming race, non-winners of two, whereby a track surface bias comes prominently into play. The field is comprised of ten horses, four of which couldn't win with a running start, two of which have rotten jockeys, two of which have worse owners, with one of the aforementioned being the even-money favorite; with bad handicappers loving the chalk.
This is contrasted to being live at the Derby where the only thing missing is Lake Wobegon in the background: Churchill Downs on the first Friday and Saturday in May, where all the horses give the impression of being able to run within a length of one another, where all the trainers have decent grammar and can see their high-dollar foot wear, where most of the riders read the Racing Form, where the owners throw money at their horses like hay; and where a horse player can hit the weekend's opening Tri and still not have paid for his or her room the night before.
There are three packages available Derby weekend, first class, coach, and on all fours.
The first time I went, I was the guest of a prominent Louisville businessman.
Our bus had a police escort six blocks. When the vehicle stopped, I thought it was motor trouble. But talk about showy. We were at the track. That year, I wore linen and sat at a table upstairs, where the swells are flowered and aflutter. You know all the people in the long camera shots, peering down at the commoners and thanking their lucky stars that they or a family member had been elected? That's where I was. It was like handicapping the ballet. Politicians and business leaders were everywhere. Talk centered around most everything but the races. Glancing at the Racing Form seemed to be considered rude. It's one big Spring Social up there, too many manners, too little handicapping, no apparent fear of losing important money. There was even socializing in the betting lines. One race, about eight deep out from the window near the post, I called out in a begging fashion for the fruit hat at the front of the line to please get me an Exacta box. Unfortunately, she did just that.
I didn't cash a single ticket the first day of Derby weekend and went back to a hotel/motel room that cost hundreds per night and had an adjoining door whose bottom was some three inches from the floor. Did people used to travel in bands, like gypsies? Adjoining hotel rooms are chief contributors to crankiness in America. To achieve a semblance of order, I had to set my television to the station favored by the people in the adjoining room, an old musical. Somebody could have reached under the adjoining door and grabbed my ankle. I passed out at about 3 a.m. and recall hitting one show bet Derby day, collecting watch pocket change.
The other time at the Derby, I was a railbird, being swept, like a board in the ocean, out and in and over and back by various masses of humanity. Handicapping while walking, handicapping in corners, handicapping in the men's room, it would be like attempting to compete in the World Series of Poker in a flight simulator.
On this occasion, I stayed many miles away for a decent rate, in and end motel room, with gravel being flung my way by roaring semis now and again.
To the best of my recollection, I cashed four bets over the course of four live Derby weekend days, learning on the second trip how to stop a nasty losing streak.
You stop betting.
I highly recommend attending the Kentucky Derby. Make your bets on interesting possibilities like Musket Man or Papa Clem before you get there; otherwise you'll wind bobbing for favorites.
Write to Jay at jaycronley@yahoo.com.
