BC2016; California Chrome Was My Spirit Animal

In the days leading up to The B Team Syndicate's big Breeders' Cup Saturday pilgrimage to the Indiana Grand racino in scenic Shelbyville, Indiana the personnel roster of our touring party came under withering assault.  Some key members of Mr B's cosa nostra of old school horse players were unavailable due to other commitments and so our standard two-table reservation was halved.  The next to RSVP his regrets was Lou.  His wife's beloved aunt passed away earlier in the week and their presence was rightfully and understandably needed elsewhere that Saturday.  Then that Friday the last of Mr B's cosa nostra vacillated.  Ultimately he joined us but that brought our surviving battalion down to three. 

Commanding the Jeep Main Battle Tank on a blitzkrieg westbound on I-74, my determined focus on the roadway led me to forget about charging my trusty Android Galaxy S8000.  An hour or so into our wagering assault I observed a low charge on my Android and so I powered it off during the bulk of our parimutuel mission.  As such, there are but a few surviving digital images with which to visually convey this narrative.

I'd spent much of the preceding week in blissful solitude - just a boy and his Daily Racing Form - studying with exacting detail the facts and figures found within the past performances of hundreds of horses from five continents, just as I do every October that the Reds aren't in the World Series.  [If you were looking for a mention about the stunning result to this year's Fall Classic, that's a subject for Jude's blog "Cubilation."  The title is a mash-up of the words Cubs and jubilation.]  Jude updates it about as often as he buys lunch for me and Joe.

Here are a few international gems discovered within the sacred pages of this year's DRF Breeders' Cup Advance issue:

We think, correctly, that the Kentucky Derby 20-horse field is too large by about six thoroughbreds.  At least over the course of a mile and a quarter there is some distance of terrain over which the field might separate.  One of our visiting European competitors took part earlier in a six-furlong (or three-quarters of a mile) 23-horse sprint.  Talk about your cavalry charges, indeed!

Another of our trans-Atlantic equine friends once took part in a race held on an English course laid out in a figure eight.  Good luck applying your traditional North American-centric handicapping principles to that bewildering outing!

Yet another put upon Old World racehorse recently carried 140 pounds.  It's routine for horses in Europe to carry more weight than their North American counterparts but even so, 140 pounds is just about the upper limit.  If jockeys weigh 110 .lbs, more or less, this unfortunate steed carried the equivalent of a jockey (in this example, the excellent British jock Ryan Moore) plus 120 McDonald's Quarter Pounder cheeseburgers.

Year after year and seemingly without fail the maitre d'racino seats us on the third tier of four, high above the track and just steps below the all-you-can-shovel prime rib buffet.  In past excursions we've been fortunate enough to have an automated betting machine immediately adjacent to our table on the tier immediately below.  We were surprised to find this year that our betting machine had been replaced with a human-operated betting terminal.  A veritable betting window without the window!

That is the wagering clerk you see just over my right shoulder taking bets from a green polo shirted bettor.  While anyone else would have had to get up from their table and make a short walk over to the terminal, we lucky elements of Mr B's cosa nostra could merely reach over the ledge to make our bets.  Ad slogan:  Improved wagering opportunities!  Now without getting up from your seat at table #308!  Thank God for good ol' American sedentary ingenuity.  How many of the calories from my turkey sammich, Saratoga chips, two sugar cookies, one M&M cookie, three servings of prime rib, two servings of mashed potatoes with gravy, a dozen or so steamed carrots, helping of corn pudding, bowl of beef & vegetable soup, and chocolate cake would you estimate I burned off that day?  I eschewed the shrimp cocktail and clam chowder both of which Mr B extolled the virtues thereof.  One could also have dined on roast beef, ham, chicken, haddock, potato salad, Asian stir fry, pasta, tossed salads, chips, pretzels..... It should be evident why Mr B prefers Shelbyville to any other race day alternatives.

Soon, between mammoth caloric intakes, we got down to the business at hand.  Right out of the gate, to exploit an obvious horse racing term, my week-long handicapping sabbatical paid off handsomely when I hit Win and Place on a 30-1 long shot.  In the very next race my 18-1 "pick o' the day" ran third, killing my Win and Place wager on her, but the filly's on-the-board finish at long odds swelled the payout on my successful Superfecta nobly aided by the winning ride of the greatest jockey in the history of mankind, Lanfranco "Frankie" Dettori.  When I hit the back end of my Win and Place wager in the race that immediately followed I basked in the shower of adulation Mr B poured upon me.  Or was that au jus which splashed from his plate?  At any rate, after the first three Breeders' Cup races I was up big and - best of all - playing with house money for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

But do not mistake playing with house money, as it were [that's a misnomer; at the races you're not betting against the house but rather against other bettors.  It was their money I was walking around with.  OK, OK.  Walking back and forth to the buffet with.  Happy?], with going home flush with added cash reserves.  So please put down that phone.  Don't alert the IRS just yet.

As the day wore on, and despite twice more cashing winning tickets on Win/Place wagers (including one at odds of 12-1), the tide inexorably turned against me.  This was due, yes, to a decreased rate of winners but also due - perhaps primarily - to my wagering strategy.  Like a champion golfer who nevertheless tinkers with his swing in order to improve his game, I've been adjusting my wagering strategies in recent years.  I've eased off considerably from the Exactas and Trifectas [full disclosure; of Saturday's nine Breeders' Cup races I placed 4 Exacta Box wagers and one Tri Box wager - all losers], focusing my parimutuel efforts on the good old fashioned Win/Place wager as well as Pick Threes, Pick Fours, the Derby Day & BC Day Pick Sixes and ten-cent Superfectas (a relatively recent development in wagering and they cost the bettor a mere $2.40, inexpensive!).  Excepting the ten-cent Supers, this strategy allows me to just focus on one horse (winning) per race and sets aside the arduous task of figuring out a deeper order of finish for each race.  I think my adjustments are paying off, to grossly exploit another wagering term, as you might compare the volume of winning tickets I cashed on Saturday compared with other race days of recent vintage.  

The explanation for why I didn't charter a helicopter ride home from the track was that I calculated a plan of attack that emphasized using my early windfall to fund a series of rolling Pick Threes with a buy-in substantially higher than the minimum fifty-cent variety.  Had I wagered the minimum Pick 3 and Pick 4 amounts I would have driven home - or choppered - a victorious conqueror.  Instead, my calculations and my mounting losses found me minutes before the last race of the day, the $6 million Classic, at just about the break-even point.  In fact, for the BC Classic I placed a $12 wager on a five-horse Superfecta Box which - were it to be a loser (and it was) - would have ended my day precisely even, not one dollar up nor down.

And then it happened......

I looked down at my growing stack of dead tickets and saw that I still had a betting machine voucher (betting machines don't pay out in cash money, only in vouchers which may be used again at a betting machine, at a betting window or redeemed for cash at a betting window) in the amount of $36. 

Hmmm.... what to do?  What to do?

The 3-to-5 odds-on favorite in the Classic was the world's #1 ranked horse (seriously, this really is a thing) California Chrome.  The second wagering choice was Arrogate at Even Money odds.  Certainly, the Classic was a two-horse race and neither offered an attractive wagering proposition as a single.  And so there I sat 15 minutes to post, peppering The Old Master of the Turf with a variety of pace scenarios in which an alternate outcome could theoretically result in a more profitable payout.  In the final analysis we determined it really was simply a two-horse race.  Looking at the odds, Mr B posited that if the odds on California Chrome were to rise to Even Money that he himself would "load up" on Chrome.  With minutes to go and millions of dollars already wagered into the betting pools it would have taken a miracle - or a "late money" wager(s) in the tens of thousands - to change the odds that dramatically.   And change they did!   Chrome rose to 8-5, Arrogate dropped to 4-5 and I dropped my $36 voucher on a straight Win bet on California Chrome.

Post time!  "Racing!"

The gates opened and California Chrome jumped out to an early lead.  He led the field through the opening quarter mile, the opening half mile and through the first three-quarters of a mile in easy fractions.  Turning for home Arrogate, running fifth early, made his move on California Chrome and the anticipated two-horse duel was fully engaged.  Mere strides from the finish Chrome was still ahead in the race just as, metaphorically, I had been ahead for the whole day.  Chrome was caught and passed in the shadow of the finish line, a dissatisfying end to what had been a successful race up to that point.  Similarly, I had a disappointing end to what had been a wildly successful day of wagering.  For that sunny Indiana day and cool Hoosier state autumn evening California Chrome was my spirit animal.  As he went, so did I.

I exited Shelbyville down just the $36 I wagered with my voucher.

The Old Master had a sizable straight Exacta that had Arrogate on top of Chrome.  This information he did not share with me until after the race.

The race itself lived up to its name.  It truly was a classic that long will be remembered.  Take a look at my spirit animal here and see the parallels in my own experience that day.

On-track wagering at Santa Anita for Saturday's Breeders' Cup totaled $14 million.  Off-track wagering soared to $95 millionz, worldwide.

The statistic that most of you are interested to know (?) is how well my handicapping stacked up against that of the pros at the Daily Racing Form.  For this year's BC, the DRF assembled 15 members of its illustrious staff to make their picks for all nine of Saturday's BC races.  Just one DRF expert, Chuck Kuehhas and his five winners (!), exceeded my three correct Win picks.  Two DRF writers - David Grening and Dan Illman - equaled my total.  Four pros who shall remain nameless were shut out completely.

Remember my #1 tip when wagering on the Breeders' Cup;  Don't bet favorites!  

Next year's Breeders' Cup will be hosted by southern California's other notable racetrack, Del Mar.  Del Mar opened in 1937 and was built by a partnership which included, among others, Bing Crosby and Gary Cooper.  It's popular slogan is "Where the turf meets the surf."

Roll the credits!  

On Days Like These; October 2016

The theme song to the 1969 motion picture The Italian Job, a film in which MINI Coopers feature prominently, seems like an appropriate title for a post that begins with a photograph of the odometer on the TDS MINI Cooper Mobile Tactical Unit:

14 years (there's that number again) and 360,000 miles.

Back at TDS HQ, the days weren't always as productive as they might have been:

This is not trick photography.  It's not a mirrored image.  Your eyes do not deceive you.  My attempt at being hyper-productive one afternoon was scrubbed on the launch pad.  T minus forever and holding.

The Technological Plague seemed to stalk me everywhere I went in October:

Following a long day of non-productivity at the office I settled back onto my Davenport and fired up the 800-inch high-def LCD LED 4-D television with the expectation of enjoying some MLB postseason coverage and analysis.  Funny, but losing the MLB Network signal only happens twice a year; during the annual Winter Meetings and during the playoffs.  Not like a baseball fan would want to watch endless hours of those events.

One late October night out on patrol was similarly disrupted:

It was enough frustration-induced anger to give a person double vision:

On the subject of double vision, I was lucky to capture a rather cool-looking dissolve (filmmaking term) during a Reds-Cardinals game late in the season:

[And by the way, take that StL.]

It is precisely when circumstances seem to be working against you that recognition of all that is favorable needs to be thoughtfully considered.  Here at the Ranch, one of those things to be recognized is the onset of autumn and it's brilliant colors and comfortable weather.

Why live in a city when you could live in a veritable forest?

The answer you're searching for, of course, is "physically exhausting yardwork."

These soothing moments of leisure allow time for artistic pursuits.  From home:

.....at work:

.....out to dinner:

.....or at the post office being attacked by wild beasts:

As the Major League Baseball regular season crept into October, there also was time to take in one more Reds game before they packed up the bats and gloves until next spring:

Here, Joey Votto faces former teammate The Cuban Missile in the midst of a late-inning Reds rally.  A rally that fell short.  You know that old baseball adage; Good pitching beats good hitting.

With the oppressive heat and humidity of Ohio summers keeping the natives in the climate-controlled indoors for weeks on end, every opportunity to get outside during autumn must be seized.  Might I suggest dining al fresco at your nearest national, state or local park?

The highlight of October - the highlight of the year to date - was the visit Lou and I paid last week to a mysterious Cincinnati destination that is equal parts legend and myth, that being the private club/baseball museum Green Diamond Gallery.  It's an easy enough place to find in the heart of old Montgomery, just one block south of the Montgomery Inn.  The difficult aspect is simply getting in the door.  Unless you are a $2,400 annual dues-paying member you need to have an invitation.  And to have an invitation, you have to know somebody.  Luckily, I know somebody.

  

I'm fortunate - and very appreciative - to have the greatest friends a guy could have.

Lou and I attended a 3-hour event.  We could have spent all-day had we been permitted.  We could also have photographed hundreds of items but we were too caught up in our sense of marvel and in our discussions to remember often enough to deploy our Androids.  Also, we wanted to be respectful of the owner Bob Crotty and what is after all his private collection (Bob was there that night and gave a brief presentation).  Plus, my Android was having a difficult time locking in its focus in the Gallery's ambient lighting.

Ernie Lombardi game-used catcher's mask (and autograph).

Lou Gehrig game-used bat.

Shoeless Joe Jackson Black Betsy model bat he used on a barnstorming tour.   In a gallery jam-packed with impressive artifacts, Lou and I were perhaps most impressed with this piece of lumber.

Hanging from the rafters over my left shoulder is a 1938 game-worn Lou Gehrig jersey.  Gehrig would only play in 8 games in 1939 before taking himself out of the lineup permanently, as it turned out to be.  The effects of his ALS had begun to take its toll in 1938.  Odd as it may seem to say, he'd experienced a down season when in '38 he hit .295/.410/.523 with 170 hits, 32 doubles, 29 home runs and 114 RBI.   Consider, though, that Gehrig hit in:

1937:  .351/.473/.643 with 200 hits, 37 doubles, 37 home runs and 158 RBI

1936:  .354/.478/.696 with 205 hits, 37 doubles, 49 home runs and 152 RBI

If Lou Gehrig isn't one of your top 10 all-time favorite non-Cincinnati Red ballplayers then you need to re-examine your baseball fandom priorities. 

This is a Walter Alston game-worn jersey I photographed for The Incomparable Joe Wilhelm, the preeminent collector of Smokey Alston memorabilia.

Among the thousands of items were some few that are more tangentially related to baseball:

There is a collection of autographs from Presidents who have thrown out a ceremonial first pitch such as Calvin Coolidge, above.

As you might expect, there were signatures that are simply gorgeous specimens of penmanship, an art lost among modern ballplayers (and me, too).  The examples on display from Johnny Mize are consistently beautiful.  One signature that caught my eye as being particularly interesting stylistically was this:

At the Green Diamond Gallery you can't spit a sunflower seed (not that you should) without striking a Babe Ruth autograph.  A doorman opens the door for you as you leave the gallery.   Stepping through the doorway, onto the sidewalk along Montgomery Rd, this autographed photo of the Bambino bids you farewell.

Roll the credits!

Fall Stars 2016

The autumnal season in the northern hemisphere ushers in blazing arboreal colors, cool crisp air tinged with wood smoke and thoroughbred horse racing championships.  Last week's Prix de L'Arc de Triomphe is generally recognized as crowning the world's best turf horse.  This weekend marks the annual Champions Day of racing at Ascot for which Britons will proclaim champions in a wide assortment of flat races during that country's richest day of racing.  Here in the Land of the Free, Home of the Brave we are just scant weeks away from similarly crowning our own champions when the Breeders' Cup returns to Santa Anita, host for this year's World Thoroughbred Championships.

The purpose behind today's entry here in the digital pages of Heavy Artillery is not to conduct an analysis of the Breeders' Cup races for wagering strategies but rather merely to whet the appetite for the spectacle and scenery of horse racing at its best.

A brief column titled "Life in the Bubble" published by The Blood-Horse last week regarding trending attendance and wagering figures at some tracks also spotlights the burgeoning crowds flowing into Keeneland during its current Fall Meet.  Following the noble yet failed experiment of replacing the dirt main track with a synthetic racing surface and with the return of traditional dirt racing and the excitement generated from having hosted last year's Breeders' Cup, Keeneland is experiencing a dramatic new golden age.  As written here last week; if you haven't been to Keeneland, go.

For those who do not have an inclination towards the written or digitized word but have a preference for visual media, the website AmericasBestRacing.net has two video's which serve to illustrate the same subject. The 5-minute long "ABR Wired" follows Daily Racing Form handicapper and NBC Sports horse racing analyst Matt Bernier as he prepares for an afternoon telecast live from Keeneland just last week.  Watching this video will give you the viewer an interesting behind-the-scenes glimpse into the NBC broadcast but also, and more importantly for our purpose here, is jam-packed with scenic sights and sounds from Keeneland.  With regard to next month's Breeders' Cup, ABR has posted an attractive 12-minute film titled "The Biggest Game in Horse Racing" that strives to explain "the passion, pageantry and excitement associated with Thoroughbred racing's $28 million weekend."  A few elements of the narrative are over-blown, and there is a repeated bit of mispronounced terminology from the narrator that chaffs my flank but the overall product is beautifully filmed and produced.

Roll the credits!

Have I Told You, Lately, That Frankie Dettori Is The Greatest Jockey In The History Of Mankind?

Following up on last week's post about the 2016 running of the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, you'll be happy to know that Frankie Dettori, despite having a mount on the race card's 7th or 8th wagering preference, brought home his steed - Order of St George - to a money finish.  

True, Dettori did not win.  As goes that old baseball axiom, "You can't win 'em all."  There was only one Free Money Express and he retired to greener pastures last year.  Breaking from the gate at odds of 18-1 Order of St George rounded out somebodies trifecta nicely.  And the superfecta must've had bettors filling out tax forms into the early morning hours.

Roll the credits!

Call To The Post

As the calendar flips to October, the change in months brings the return of preeminent horse racing worldwide.

Today alone there are 14 graded (or in Europe, "Group") stakes races being run at tracks such as Ascot (UK; too late to get your bets down.  Sorry), Belmont Park, Churchill Downs and Santa Anita where the scenic Arcadia, California track is running five - count 'em, five - Grade 1 stakes races in advance of being the host site for next month's World Thoroughbred Championships aka the Breeders' Cup.  If you find yourself at loose ends this afternoon you may want to mosey on down to your nearest track, simulcast, OTB or tune into NBCSN (check your local listings) to watch from the comfort of your own home and begin your Breeders' Cup preparations.

Tomorrow sees the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe.  This 1.5 mile-long $5 million euro turf race is the biggest, most important race run outside of the United States.  Normally held at Longchamp Racecourse in Paris, this year's event will be run at Chantilly Racecourse in - you guessed it - Chantilly, France as Longchamp is closed temporarily for renovations.  

Chantilly makes for a pretty - and pretty good - substitute no?  Oui oui! 

You can read some race course analysis here.  

Longchamp has a long and storied history, including maintaining horse races during German occupation in WW2 when the infield was requisitioned for a German anti-aircraft artillery battery and, completely unsurprisingly, was bombed by American bombers on a daylight bombing run.... on a race day with French race-going fans (and NAZI officers) in the stands.  Perhaps needless to say, Longchamp underwent a significant renovation soon-thereafter, also.

I note that the greatest jockey in the history of mankind, the Italian jock Lanfranco "Frankie" Dettori has drawn the far outside post on a 20-1 longshot named Order of St George (a Keeneland September sale yearling).  If you're going to Chantilly tomorrow, put a handful of francs on Dettori for me.  Despite being the morning line 7th or 8th betting choice - there are a nearly limitless number of UK wagering brokers with their own odds (including horses with hilarious parimutuel odds of 19-10 and 54-5) - many Euro handicapping publications are picking Dettori and Order of St George to finish in the money.  Here is an American synopsis of the leading Arc de Triompe contenders.

October also sees the return of live racing to Keeneland for its 17-day fall meet.  If you've never been to Keeneland, go baby go!

Roll the credits!