It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. In 1783, just a couple years after Bill was born, Louisville, Kentucky was a growing, thriving city. If only they could keep those damn hot-rodders off the streets. What’s that you say? No, we’re not talking about automobile racing here, we’re talking horses. Despite the significant efforts of the town fathers, a Louisville horseman was going to race his horses in the downtown streets and devil take the pedestrians. This went on for decades and the activity became a fact of life in Louisville, loved by some, despised by others. As the city grew in size and sophistication, however, an increasing chorus of important voices was raised against the practice, including that of Meriwether Lewis Clark, Jr., the grandson of legendary explorer William Clark. In 1872, Clark traveled to Europe, where he met the foremost racing people there and developed the notion of establishing a Jockey Club in Louisville to sponsor races and highlight the city’s champion racing stock, not to mention keep the kids off the streets. In 1874, he established a race track on land owned by his uncles, John and Henry Churchill, for whom the track would eventually be named. The future Churchill Downs opened on May 17, 1885, and the first Kentucky Derby—one of four races held that day—was won by Aristides. The track was completed in 1895, replete with the grandstand’s famous twin spires, which have become synonymous with the Kentucky Derby and Churchill Downs.
Over the years, the Derby became not just the leading horse race in America and one of the most prestigious in the world, but a broader cultural festival as well. Considerably more than one hundred thousand Kentuckians and visitors annually inundate Louisville on the First Saturday In May to partake of the various galas, dinners and other social events that arrive with each Derby weekend. On race day, women vie to outdo one another in the wearing of outrageously ornate hats, while the Churchill infield becomes a raucous few-holds-barred Party Central for younger attendees. Unlike its sister-races of the Triple Crown, the Preakness and the Belmont, the Kentucky Derby has never gone on hiatus, however briefly, having been run every year since 1875. Last year’s attendance was 164,906, less than 500 people short of the all-time record set in 2012.
Beginning in 1936, Stephen Foster’s “My Old Kentucky Home” (the official state song as of 1928) has been played by the University of Louisville Marching Band to accompany the Post Parade. The music starts when the first horse appears on the track, an emotional moment not only for the participants in the race, many of whom have struggled for decades to make it there, but also for horsemen everywhere who share the dream. Some people say they’d rather win the Breeder’s Cup or the Preakness or the Belmont or even the Travers Stakes at Saratoga. Yes, and some people are big liars. There is no thoroughbred horse race in the United States, nor will there ever be one, with the prestige and color and excitement of the Kentucky Derby. For One Great Shining Moment, the twenty best three-year-olds extant breaking from the gate in quest of the Ultimate Reward—a permanent place in history, an unconquerable title: WINNER OF THE KENTUCKY DERBY.
Churchill Downs In The Good Old Days
The Contenders
Anyone who is paying attention is aware that two horses have risen above the crowd. They are American Pharoah, recent winner of the Arkansas Derby by a widening eight lengths, and his stablemate, Dortmund, undefeated winner of the Santa Anita Derby. Both are trained by Californian Bob Baffert, who seems to have a knack for these things. Baffert doesn’t always win the race but rarely fails to provide a serious contender. His chief rival is an East Coast trainer named Todd Pletcher. A day seldom passes that Pletcher doesn’t win a race somewhere in the country and he will challenge the top two with Bluegrass Stakes winner Carpe Diem and Materiality, champion of the Florida Derby. Can any other horse win this thing? Sure. At this time in their careers, many horses are making great leaps forward; given racing luck and a decent post position, someone could surprise. Let’s take a look at the other possibilities.
Firing Line, winner of the unspectacular Sunland Derby in New Mexico, is an improving colt who seems to like a little time between starts, a fact which might preclude his candidacy for the Triple Crown but not a disqualifier for the Kentucky Derby. In earlier races, made Dortmund work for his victories.
Frosted was vastly improved winning the Wood Memorial after modest throat surgery and a cutback of his blinkers. If he continues to improve, watch out.
International Star is a tough colt who has been racing at the Fair Grounds in Louisiana, an easier route than some of his rivals. Won the Louisiana Derby, but not by much (a mere neck), and appears a notch less than the above horses. Very tough, though, and keeps on winning.
Upstart looked like a Derby possibility earlier but failed to impress in Florida, where he was beaten 1 1/2 lengths in the FD by Materiality. Connections blamed the defeat on a missed work; Bill blamed it on Materiality being better, even with a lousy name.
El Kabeir, the ultimate mystery horse, discussed in an earlier column. We blamed his Wood defeat on rider C.C. Lopez and told you he’d be replaced. He will, and by Derby perennial Calvin Borel. The rail-riding jockey must keep his charge in touch with the field or his late-running abilities will be moot.
Mubtaahij last won the United Arab Emirates Derby. Big whoop. You’re not in Abu Dhabi anymore, Toto.
If the Kentucky Derby winner doesn’t come from one of the above, we’ll be consarned, which is a mild imprecation meaning dazed and confused. We stole the word from comic strip character Snuffy Smith, a bodacious hillbilly who lived in Hootin’ Holler with his tolerant wife, Loweezy, who did all the work around the house while Snuffy slept on the porch. Anyway, we’ll be back next week with our final Derby picks but it won’t be easy. Sorta like the she-loves-me, she-loves-me-not feller pulling the petals off his flower. American Pharoah, Dortmund….American Pharoah, Dortmund….American Pharoah, Dortmund….does anyone here have a shiny coin?
Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch….
After lo, these many years, Bill and Siobhan have entered a horse in an actual thoroughbred sale. That would be Norm, a two-year-old by Kantharos, scheduled to sell tomorrow afternoon at the Ocala Breeders Spring Sale for horses-in-training. If you can’t make it, just call. You can submit bids over the phone and who knows, you might get the next Derby winner. We’re keeping our two-year-old filly, Cosmic Saint (nee Serena) for racing. She leaves for New Jersey with trainer Eddie Plesa next week. Saturday will be the last Florida opportunity for Bull Ensign until Fall. He stretches out to a mile-and-an-eighth at Gulfstream before vanning north to Monmouth Park, also with Plesa.
Loath as we are to sell our children, this racing stuff is expensive business and we have not exactly been on a hot streak lately. Time to replenish the coffers a bit, always assuming Norm brings a satisfactory price. He worked well for the sale, however, and his sire is a promising stallion so we expect him to have a different address by Saturday evening. If the bids are beneath contempt, we’ll keep him and ship to Miami next week. Or perhaps bring him home and put him in charge of our burgeoning goat contingent. After all, every wagon train needs a trail boss. Ava, our homebred, and Micki, our sale purchase are yearlings now, only six months from the start of their own training days. Cosmic Light, known to her many friends as Dot, has been bred to Uncaptured, and is in foal on one cover. It goes round and round and round in the Circle Game.
Terrorist Humor
Those merry men of mirth have been at it again. A Muslim terrorist in Paris with an arsenal of loaded guns was on his way to massacre a passel of churchgoers earlier this week, but a funny thing happened on the way to the chapel. He shot himself in the leg. Yep, had to call him an ambulance. Cops found him bleeding like a stuck pig just outside his apartment and followed a blood trail back to his car, which was crammed to the gills with loaded guns and a clever note discussing future targets. This kind of stuff happens all the time with terrorists. They’re in serious danger of becoming the New Polacks.
Back at the turn of the century, Israel went off of daylight savings time to make it easier for Orthodox Jews to attend Selichot, a pre-sunrise penitential prayer that runs from a week before Rosh Hashana through Yom Kipper. The Palestinian Authority refused to follow Israel, leading to a two-week period when the two were an hour apart. Trying to undermine the Sharm el-Sheikh accords, two bonehead terrorists a day later tried to attack Israelis. Unfortunately for them, they set the bomb timers to go off on one schedule and kept themselves on another. Oopsy! The bomb went off while they were still transporting it, obliterating the duo but killing no Israelis. Alas, many of us forget to turn our clocks one way or the other. Worst thing that happens to normal people is somebody’s late for church.
Who says terrorists have no sense of humor? Funny old Bilal Abdullah and Kafeel Ahmed took it into their heads to blow up Glasgow airport one day, neglecting to case the joint. The facility is protected by a series of dense bollards (short, thick posts), not unlike the ones bar owners often erect in this country to stop errant customers from driving through the walls. The terrorist car was shredded to smithereens. Bilal somehow survived but Kafeel is out there somewhere trying to find his guaranteed posse of virgins. Good luck, pal.
When would-be terrorist Faisal Shahzad set off his explosives in New York’s Times Square a few years ago, he was surprised to discover nothing happened. That’s because he bought fertilizer without urea that does not explode. He also purchased 152 M88 Silver salutes, which have to be lit individually and so did not provide the required fuse. As if those factors weren’t disappointing enough, Shahzad also filed off the identification numbers on the dashboard of the SUV he planned to blow up, not realizing that today’s cars have multiple VINs, some very difficult to locate. Naturally, the mistake led police right to his door.
A female suicide bomber planned a terrorist attack in central Moscow on New Year’s Eve, intending to detonate a suicide belt in a busy area near Red Square. She was at her safe house with a couple of accomplices getting ready when an unexpected text message from her mobile phone operator came in wishing her a Happy New Year. BABOOOM!!! Happy New Year, indeed.
John Nuttall, a dissolute convert to Islam in Vancouver, planned to detonate pressure-cooker bombs at the British Columbia Legislature. Fortunately for the pols, silly old John had an ant problem at his home and decided to eradicate the ants with strychnine. Somehow, the poison got in his food and he began vomiting blood, at first refusing to call 911 and accepting aid from “infidels.” After his near miss, Nuttall said he could see “the angel of death scratching the back of my neck with his sickle.” Too bad it wasn’t sharper.
Attention Homeboys!
Last Sunday, Siobhan and I went out to opening weekend at Cedar Lakes Woods & Gardens in nearby Williston, neighbor Jennie Hollis in tow. Two weeks before, we had never even heard of the place, a spectacular botanical garden located in a vast quarry adjacent to the popular cave-diving mecca, Devil’s Den, just northwest of town. The place is full of natural eye-candy, tolerates an abundance of foot-traffic well and is less than a half-hour from Gainesville and Ocala. The finished product is the decades long effort of local orthodontist Ray Webber. If you’re in the area, a measly $12 gets you a look. Y’done good, Ray. Photos to follow:
That’s all, folks….
