Kentucky Derby 134

We interrupt my life to watch the 2008 Kentucky Derby.




This was my ninth Derby, working as a teller at Kentucky Downs Race Track.
I watched the mass of 20 horses streaking for the wire, thinking that my personal pick (Big Brown) was near the front, if nothing else. I couldn't hear the announcer above the excited cheering of the crowd. You'd have thought we were at Churchill. I had a WPS bet on Big Brown, as well as a {5,9,10,20} exacta box. Knowing that it would be several minutes before the race was final and payoffs were available, I took a cash return to the money room. I had so many bills in my box, I nearly couldn't manage them all, and I had almost passed my limit on the total amount, as well.

Afterward, I slipped out to use the restroom and stretch my legs. When I returned to my machine, I saw the race results on the screen. Not only did I have my win-place-and-show bet, but I had my exacta. Since those were the only two bets I had placed, I was two for two. If I had had more time, I had planned to do a trifecta wheel as well. I would have added a couple more horses for good measure, including #16. But since the tri would have been a tax ticket, it's probably just as well. (Yet it might have been cool to win $3,000+, just once....)

Moments later, Paul came downstairs from the TV room to tell me the fate of Eight Belles. I didn't know she had even gone down. With two shattered front ankles, she had collapsed in the cool-down stretch, after finishing second in the race.

The memory of Barbaro is too near. I cry when I think about them. Thoroughbreds are so strong, and yet so fragile.





My daughter Cathie said she thought that injured horses should be kept alive, allowed to live peacefully in retirement. I thought so too, yet I know that a horse that cannot stand will die after a while. And a horse that cannot run might not want to live. I just wish we could figure out a way to keep them from being hurt while doing the thing they love best.