But, we do like to cheer with a crowd (about damn near anything, we will cheer! We cheer for weddings, we cheer for karaoke nites, we have even cheered on the three toed sloth as he completes his homework on occasion! ), and so we started gathering with friends for some of the big horse races.
We make our decisions on which horse to choose quite scientifically. In fact, we generally choose by the horse's name.
In 2006, we placed a wee wager on the Kentucky Derby on the favorite horse to win, Barbaro. I liked the name 'cause it reminded me of Barbarino from the old Welcome Back Kotter episodes of my child hood. (Don't ask, but my sixth grade math teacher was a ringer for Mr. Kotter, and it turned out that teacher had a brother who was a whiz with cars, and serviced mysuestories' mobile for years. That brother had an identical twin who was an anesthesiologist. Imagine my surprise, when I was in labor with the three toed sloth and my car mechanic appeared to enter the labor room to administer an epidural!!!! Talk about a freak out! I actually made him show me his license, proving he was in fact not my mechanic!) OK, so you didn't ask, but how the heck else are you going to learn these random mysuestories facts?
Anyway, so we placed a $10.00 wager on this star horse, and he proceeded to win (Yea, us!!!) Come the Preakness later that season, we again bet on this favored horse to win. Turns out the damned horse fractured three bones in his right hind leg, thus ending his racing career. He was eventually euthanized in Janury 2007.
We missed the 2007 Kentucky Derby, attending a nephew's First Holy Communion. In hindsight, this may have been a good thing for the horses, none of whom suffered as much as a scratch that year!
Fast forward to 2008, and the mountain man and I again tried our hand at horse racing. Or maybe I should say horse betting. After all, the only horse I've ever raced was quite accidentally on a beach at a resort where the horses were half dead and could barely follow a trail. My horse must have had Wheaties that morning with his wild oats, because he decided to RUN LIKE THE WIND, BULLSEYE!!!! I dangled precariously from this mad animal until the guide was able to catch up and
Again, I digress. Are you still there, oh constant reader? Yes? Good. OK, so the mountain man and I again wager on the 2008 Kentucky Derby. We placed a $10.00 bet (yeah, we do live on the edge, don't we?)on Big Brown (as in my Rolling Stones favorite tune, Brown Eyed Girl---yes, very scientific pickings, no?). So the bet was $10.00 for Big Brown to win and then, because she was the only girl on in the race, we put another $10.00 on Eight Belles to just cross the finish line first, second, or third (in OTB lingo, that means to Place- which sounds more like a location than a finishing line posting, no?)
So the race goes off, and we're cheeering like maniacs (see above cause for cheering!) with very little knowledge of race horsing form. All I know is that I want my two horses to come in first and second. And guess what, faithful friend of this blog? They did. Both horses came in first and second.
Big Brown finished first and we could hear the ca ching of ill gotten winnings come our way. And then Eight Belles, the belle of the track, came in second, as in PLACE!!! Ca ching again!
Then, before we even got to bask in the glory of the win that was our personal victory, Eight Belles went down in a flurry of motion, and huge screens were placed around our victorious Belle, and right there, track side, BANG!!!! Our horse is now in horsey heaven, where I suppose the horses ride on the backs of little Mexican men in funny hats.
And so today, with the luck of the Irish on our side (at least on half of my side), the mountain man and I will again place a wager on the Kentucky Derby. We may choose Chocolate Candy (obvious choice- this being the mountain man's kryptonite!), or perhaps Mr Hot Stuff (again, a mountain man trait!) or maybe Nowhere to Hide or I Want Revenge (a veiled reference to ex #2).
In any event, if anything SHOULD hypothetically happen to cause the untimely demise of our choosen steed, let it be known that we just aren't good at this.
And maybe, just maybe, next year, the Horse Owners Association of Racing Studs (aka HOARS) will pay US not to wager at all!!!!!
Hey, somebody's got to fill the hole that was my AdSense Google Revenue - And they know of exactly which hole I refer!....(OK, OK, I AM over that whole debacle. Really I am!)
Well, dear reader, I'm Off To the Races!!!!! Wish