JOCKEYS & SARATOGA SPRINGS NEW YORK RACE TRACK


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     After several summers in Saratoga Springs, I discovered I loved thoroughbred horseracing. All my life Iโ€™ve been a performing arts spectator. I never watched any sports on television and only attended baseball games when my father needed a companion. The art of performance led me to experience the racetrack as live theater.

     The racetrack is a stage, the jockeys are the actors, and the men and women that fill the bleachers, the picnic grounds, the Turf Club, and the private boxes are the audience. The racehorse is the star celebrity.

     The tickets for admission, like any show, are based on your seating. You can walk through the gates for $3.00 or buy a box for $100,000 a year. The collage of human emotions, drama, suspense, and danger are key components to good theater.

     Gambling personifies the Shakespearean twist of the racetrack. High rollers and drugstore cowboys wager to win. Some men walk out with a grocery cart of recycled cans; some walk out with enough money to buy a racehorse. They leave by the same gate, and the next day, they return for more. But why, I ask, is thoroughbred racing not considered an all-around American sport? Why donโ€™t jockeys get athletic respect? These two spheres of lightning truth struck me while I trampled through the mud one rainy August day at Saratoga Racetrack.

I asked around for opinions. The Governorโ€™s bodyguard remarked that it was a good question. He did not think gambling was the reason because people always bet on sports. He thought maybe that it was because, as kids, we donโ€™t learn to race horses, like baseball and football. The public is naรฏve about jockeys because they have never raced. Another answer I heard was that 200,000 fans fill a ballgame on any given day and that those numbers donโ€™t compare with horseracing.

     Iโ€™m not a gambler,  and I donโ€™t ride very well, but I am a drama whore. I took my notebook to the jocksโ€™ room to ask the jockeys what they thought about this irregularity in sports. Jose Santos had a few minutes to spare.

     โ€œJose, do you feel like America thinks of you as an athlete?โ€

     โ€œWe donโ€™t get the respect that we should. I think itโ€™s the gambling. This is the greatest racetrack in America, and there is gambling in every sport, but when you come to the track, you see it right there, and people cannot avoid it. Pound for pound, we are more fit than most athletes.โ€

     I asked Jose what he does aside from riding. He jogs three miles every day and walks for a mile. He reminded me that if he goes down with the horse, his strength is what gets him back up again. Another misconception is that jockeys only ride for 2 minutes. Well, the race is 2 minutes, but they ride every day of the year. They do not take breaks.

     โ€œHow does the public perceive you?โ€ I asked.

     โ€œIn Europe, they are treated like movie stars. Over here the jockey is just another person, and in sports, the jockey is low. I wish we had more respect, but we donโ€™t get the publicity.โ€

     This feels like the guts of the truth; our little minds like to align with other like minds. The leaders of the pack go to football and baseball, and the media follows behind.

     Jose remarked that he only felt real enthusiasm and support when he won the Triple Crown. Otherwise, they get a little column in the paper with the results. โ€œThe Racing Form is 100 pages, and nothing is written about us.โ€

     โ€œWhat if there was a Jockey Magazine?โ€

     โ€œWell, that would be great. Then, the companies would be interested, and weโ€™d get sponsors. When I go out to the park and run, I wear Nikes too.โ€ He chuckled.

    โ€œHave they ever approached you for sponsorship?โ€

    โ€œNo, I donโ€™t expect they will.โ€

 A few days later, I found Jerry Bailey before a race. It was a cinch to get into the jocksโ€™ room in those days. That was before Elliott Spitzer sipped all the fizz out of Saratoga Race Track. These days the Press canโ€™t walk inside the Jocksโ€™ room.  Jerry hopped onto a counter and extended his hand.

โ€œHow are you?โ€

โ€œGreat, Jerry, thank you for meeting me.โ€

โ€œSure.โ€

โ€œJerry, Iโ€™m very interested in the lack of sports sponsorship offered jockeys. Why do you think that is?

โ€œBecause no one is promoting us.  If you donโ€™t do anything to promote us, how does anyone know? They have bobbleheads and gimmicks like that, but there isnโ€™t even a Jockey Calendar. Excuse me now; Iโ€™ve got to ride a race.โ€

 Of all the risk-takers and entrepreneurs in the world, horse racing is the champion in all categories. If I decided to understand the business,  attend every race, meet every owner, jockey, and trainer, thereโ€™s no chance Iโ€™d understand anything more because I do not love the horse the way a jockey does, and you canโ€™t fool the horse!

   During the Hall of Fame Induction presentation at Saratoga a few years back, D. Wayne Lucas made a speech that drew a full house of gregarious applause. This is an excerpt:

 โ€œYou ride a great horse, and the owner wakes up the next day and decides to switch to Bailey. The adversity is gut-wrenching, bringing you to your knees and humbling, whether youโ€™re a rider, trainer, owner, or breeder. Thereโ€™s one thing that will keep you going, and that is simply your attitude. Attitude is the most important decision you make every day. Make it early, and make sure you make the right one. You will have a very full and very peaceful life.โ€

 Maybe itโ€™s time for a Jocks Nike, call it the Two Minute Nike. 

ย ย 

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      JOCKS WEAR NIKES TOO


      DEL MAR RACE TRACK


      MORNING WORK-OUT AT SARATOGA RACE TRACK

      Dรฉjร  vu made a sounding explosion when I was seated in the Del Mar Turf Club with my friend Rudy. I wore the best outfit I had, which was Victorian compared to other dolls at the track. After observing the fans for a few minutes, I noticed one table of serious bettors that looked authentic. Thatโ€™s when the memory of me and Dad at Santa Anita came rising up, and the expression he wore the entire time we sat through six races. He never took off his tinted shades, and he did not speak to me at all, not once, except to hand me a twenty-dollar bill and say, โ€œPlay the Trifecta,โ€ and named the horses. I ran off assured Iโ€™d be a winner, and returned to my seat anxiously. Dad gave me his binoculars when my race came up, and within two-minutes, Iโ€™d gone from winner to loser. I looked at him and he said in a neutralized manner, โ€œNow you know nothing is a sure thing; even with your old dad.โ€

      The horse races were the one secret he couldnโ€™t keep. He talked about the races, the jockeyโ€™s, and his handicapping because he couldnโ€™t repress that part of his life. It was like asking a woman not to talk about her ex-boyfriend or husband. Rudy was not inflamed with the fury of the races, but he stayed there, and gave me money to pick the winners. When the Shoe entered the Winnerโ€™s Circle, I said to Rudy, โ€œMy Dad was close to Willie, one of his trainers used to be around us a lot.

      โ€œGo over and introduce yourself.โ€

      โ€œNot now.ย  Maybe afterward if I see him.”

      โ€œCome on, letโ€™s go stand by the exit so you can get close.โ€

      โ€œI donโ€™t want to. Iโ€™m not sure what their relationship was.โ€

      โ€œWhat could it be?ย  Your Dad played the track.โ€

      I followed Rudy and when Willie rode by waving at the people, I waved back.

      โ€œNo, itโ€™s not right to approach him now.โ€

      โ€œYour wrong; but itโ€™s your decision.โ€

      I didnโ€™t go looking for Willy because he was Dadโ€™s friend, not mine.ย  We didnโ€™t socialize like I did with Johnny Roselli or his other pals. My dad did tell me that โ€œMeyer had a great saying: You donโ€™t inherit friends,โ€™โ€ and I felt that was the situation. The rest of the day; while the scenery liquefied into a nostalgia of the nineteen forties, my eyes were unblinking at all the activity.

      Iโ€™d read enough about the tracks to know that it was the club to join back then, and if you were on the inside, the parties lasted all night. And so did the gambling and practical jokes, and staged busts. I understood what drew my Dad, because the same thrills were touching me, and I liked it a lot. I took notes on what Iโ€™d experienced that day, because it was a new culture Iโ€™d just discovered.

      I wasnโ€™t interested in winning really, I just adored the characters behind the scenes; the speaker calling out the race, the girls leaping out of their seats and kissing their betting boyfriends, the waiters in tuxedos serving salads, and champagne, the oldies music, horses, costumes, and the Jockeyโ€™s, those little guys who control a two thousand pound animal going thirty-five miles an hour and more.

      The next day I took the notes out and wrote a few pages about the track. It wasnโ€™t researched or reported, just the ad-lib observation of a gal with a gangster past. It came so easy, it was like writing about a familiar subject. Rudy read it and said to send it to the local newspaper. I fought him a few rounds, and then finally succumbed to the idea of publishing my writing.

      A few days later the editor called and asked me to submit more piecesโ€ฆ and heโ€™d pay me twenty-five dollars a column. He mentioned Iโ€™d have a press pass to go to the track galas, and write about the track. I got off the phone feeling empoweredย and drove to Office Depot to buy a tape recorder. Iโ€™d just finished reading the Damon Runyon stories, and so I thought, hereโ€™s my chance. I started taking morning runs around the track when the horses are warming-up. It is one of the most exhilarating sensations, to see that polished hide bursting through the entrance to the track, nostrils flared, lips crunching the bite, and those burning brown eyes pointed to the track. In the afternoon I walked around the track with my press pass and knocked on barn doors. The reception was immediate, yes, they would love to be interviewed. So I spent one whole summer writing about the Del Mar Race Track, and didnโ€™t bet a dime.ย  I did begin more research into the horse-racing industry and was eager to see a movie about this spectacular sport.ย  Seabiscuit was a treat because I attended the Premier in Saratoga Spring’s, NY andย  met the trainer’s grand-daughter. Now I am looking forward to LUCK, premiering this month on HBO.

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