Pete Rose Sculpture #fakenews

This past Saturday the Cincinnati Reds dedicated a statue sculpture on Crosley Terrace of Pete Edward Rose.  I was there and this is your eyewitness, first-hand report.

Except I wasn't there and, further, there will be no report of the event here.

You shouldn't read anything into that.  I had to work.  Plus, I didn't want to stand around all afternoon on my broken foot.  And believe me, if you've heard one rambling, anachronistic, bawdy, semi-coherent Pete Rose speech you've heard 'em all.

However, I was at the Reds-Dodgers game on Friday night, so that's what you get here.

On the way to the ballpark I stopped for a chicken club sandwich at Chick-fil-A and was greeted by this #throwback sight:

Your eyes do not deceive you!  That is a vintage Pokey Reese replica jersey.  Dat Dude PR was dat dude before Dat Dude BP (and before Twitter)... and my man Pokey could pick it better than Dat Dude Showboat, too.  #preach

It was with some trepidation for what variety of misery the Dodgers were going to inflict upon the Redlegs that I proceeded down Colerain Avenue.  

#theRedsgotmelike Woozy.

Does Dat Manager BP feel me?

Pregame, the Reds honored the NL Player of the Week Scooter Gennett for his historic 4 home run game.  I was there!  And by "there" I mean watching from the comfort of my couch, snacking on salted cashews.  #alternativefacts

Among the gifts Scooter found himself lavished with was.... a scooter.  #yolo

What made the cringe-worthy scooter presentation enjoyable was the sight of Reds Hall of Famer Tom "Mr Perfect" Browning riding in from the outfield on said scooter and making the (in)formal presentation.

Since fighting like a Roman gladiator for my Joc Pederson All-Star Game Home Run Derby baseball back in 2015 , I root for Joc to become a star and increase the monetary value of my rare item.

#helpabrotherout

.198/.309/.310?!  Dang!

Soon enough, the Reds rolled over for their 7th straight loss:

And it was bring on the Friday Night Fireworks presented by just put me out of my misery!

The fireworks were allegedly set to the soundtrack of Peter Edward's playing years (1963-1986).  Reds faithful were subjected to the superfluous, utterly gratuitous stylings of DJ GetARealJob.  Sample;

She's got a ticket to riiiiide [*wicky wicky woop*] and she don't care!

That made 35,613 of us that didn't care.

Among the Pax Americana musical selections was this staple of FM radio:

When I spot something Bruce-related I like to share it with Heavy Artillery's resident Boss Aficionado, Johnny Dubs.  Shortly before the inauguration this past January, I spied a photo making the rounds on the interwebz and shot it to JW via text.  I included a lyrical footnote with the photo, to which John responded in kind:

..... you probably know the rest.  #prolly

The Reds may have me woozy this season, but there are good reasons to go down to the Great American Tilt Yard.  Namely, the stars on other teams.  Earlier this year I got to see the sublime Adam Jones when the Baltimore Orioles steamrolled into town.  I got a photo of Jones and Joey Votto together, two future Hall of Famers:

Similarly, I photographed Joey Votto batting against CC Sabathia when the Jahnkees brought their fetid circus to River City:

The arrival of the Bronx Bombers drew every fair weather, Evil Empire-loving degenerate out from under their rocks to see the game.  Except they didn't watch the game:

This candy pinstriper in his Yanks ballcap played games on his phone for the whole 5 innings he stuck around.  I guess he had to catch the 4 Train back to midtown.  #whatevs

Back in Butler County, the next day, I caught a passing glimpse of this mural of Hamilton Joe Nuxhall painted on the side of Clark's Sporting Goods:

Speaking of Nuxy, Cooperstown Hall of Fame broadcaster Marty Brennaman shines brightest when the Reds are riding the #strugglebus.  Grumpy Marty makes for fantastic radio listening!  

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The local talk radio airwaves were abuzz last week in speculation that this weekend's  Hit King statue sculpture dedication might be the last opportunity for the Reds to honor Pete at the ballyard.  Afterall, the theory postulated, Pete has had his number retired, been inducted into the team Hall of Fame, now the statue sculpture.  In recent summer's the Reds have honored the 1975 Big Red Machine, the 1976 Big Red Machine.  Pete has been in attendance for similar individual honors for Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan, Tony Perez, Sparky Anderson..... plus, you know..... Pete is getting older.  What else is there?!

My personal friend and Cincinnati Reds owner Robert (he lets me call him "Bob") Castellini will always find ways to pay tribute to Pete Rose for two reasons;  1) It's the right thing to do, and 2) It guarantees a sell-out.

Bear in mind, the Big Red Machine wasn't just honored last year for their 40th anniversary.  They BRM was honored, at least, as far back as 2000 for their 25th anniversary.  So there exists more honorific opportunities associated with the Machine.

Allow me to list a few others, just in case Bob Castellini is reading this;

1) 2018 will be the 40th anniversary of Hit #3000

2) 2018 will be the 40th anniversary of Pete's 44-game hit streak

3) 2020 will be the 35th anniversary of breaking Ty Cobb's record

So don't fret about seeing Pete down at the ol' ball orchard.  #chillax

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Andy "Coach" Hughes passed along this link to an article and podcast about ballpark development that my baseball fan readership might find interesting.  Bonus;  soundbites from Hall of Fame broadcaster and voice of This Week In Baseball Mel Allen.  How about that!

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Responding to the Holy Bull tribute, a loyal subscriber asked whether we have today an active thoroughbred race horse that is a talented and awe-inspiring as Holy Bull.  

Why, yes!

In 2016, a unraced three-year old colt named Arrogate made his maiden debut in mid-April.  He went off the favorite but finished third.  Under the eligibility requirements for the Kentucky Derby, Arrogate's one lifetime start (and third-place finish) was not sufficient for him to qualify.  Arrogate won his next start, and then won the start after that - this time facing older horses for the first time.  Then he beat older horses his next time out, too.  Arrogate came to national prominence when, in August, he won the Grade 1 Travers Stakes by 13 lengths beating that year's Preakness Stakes winner (Creator) and Belmont Stakes winner (Exaggerator).  His winning time in the Travers broke a Saratoga track record that stood for almost 40 years.  Arrogate concluded his 2016 campaign with a victory in the $5 million dollar Breeders' Cup Classic, defeating the [then] #1 ranked race horse in the world, California Chrome - himself a past winner of the Kentucky Derby, Preakness Stakes and a dozen other stakes races (and a two-time Horse of the Year awardee).  Full disclosure; I had big $$$ on Chromie that night.

In the aftermath of Arrogate's incredible 2016 campaign, I ran across a quote in The Blood-Horse that was so stunning in it's encapsulation of his success (to that point) that I sent it to astute horse player Boss for his own edification: 

In 2016 Arrogate didn't just defeat a multitude of graded stakes winners, he annihilated them.

Arrogate was named the American champion three-year old horse and leap-frogged California Chrome to become the #1 ranked horse in the world by the International Federation of Horseracing Authorities.  Yes, that's a real thing.

Arrogate returned to the track this past January for a rematch with California Chrome - Chromie making the final start of his glorious career - in the inaugural $12 million dollar Pegasus World Cup (the world's richest race).  Chrome was pulled up to prevent an injury, Arrogate set a Gulfstream Park track record on his way to a five length victory.  Arrogate made his next start in the world's second richest race when he traveled abroad for the first time, going to Dubai for the $10 million dollar Dubai World Cup.

This is the race [linked below] that you need to watch - and replay - to fully appreciate the greatness of Arrogate.

Racing without benefit of the usual race day medications available to American race horses, and breaking from the gate in a steady rain and brisk wind, Arrogate proceeded to:

--- Break from the starting gate in last place,

--- Get checked hard by Jockey Mike Smith,

--- Go three-wide around the first turn,

--- Swing 8-wide down the backstretch,

--- Enter the final turn in 10th, 4- or 5-wide,

--- Move inside horses,

--- Launch an explosive move turning for home,

--- Get bumped by another horse at the top of the homestretch,

--- Pass the leader under a hand ride,

--- Cruise under the wire still under a hand ride!

Arrogate spotted the early leader 10 more lengths at the start, he covered significantly more ground than the race leaders and - this is important so I'll repeat it - cruised to the lead, as I said, "under a hand ride" meaning jockey Mike Smith had ceased using the whip (or "put away the whip") because it wasn't necessary.  Arrogate, despite all his troubles and all the additional ground he covered, was going to win the Dubai World Cup and win easy.

People who are knowledgeable about horse racing will tell you, and I fully concur, that in winning the Breeders' Cup Classic, Pegasus World Cup and Dubai World Cup, in beating the quality of fields that were entered in those races, and in winning in the ways that he did (coming from last, going wide, setting track records) that even if Arrogate never wins another race he is already in the conversation of greatest thoroughbred race horses of all-time.

In case there was any doubt in your mind, in just 8 lifetime starts (7 consecutive victories) and just barely into his four-year old campaign Arrogate is already North America's highest-earning race horse (over $17 million dollars to date).

Man o' War, War Admiral, Seabiscuit, Citation, Secretariat, Cigar..... remember the "Free Money Express," Wise Dan?  Enjoy the phenomenon that is Arrogate.

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Finally, the Memorial Day weekend HA post about the Monaco Grand Prix must have sparked a nationwide interest in the race.  NBC Sports proclaimed it the most-watched Formula 1 race in U.S. history.

As a bonus for HA readership, watch this onboard film from 1957 of Juan Manuel Fangio - F1's first great driver - testing a Formula 1 Maserati in Italy.  The dude rolls up in a sweet Mercedes and jumps into the race car wearing his street clothes (slacks and a t-shirt; no fire suit).  The narration is classic mid-century stuff; Fangio, with his iron self-control and uncanny skill met [the] demand with contemptuous ease.

I shared this Fangio film with resident HA F1 expert Kuertz and he responded with his own sweet onboard film, but from Le Mans in 1956.  Kuertz' Le Mans clip has the value-added aspect of having the driver narrate from behind the wheel.  He looks like a Star Wars TIE Fighter pilot in the process.

Kuertz has a Le Mans fixation, he also thinks Steve McQueen's 1971 movie Le Mans is superior to James Garner's 1966 motion picture Grand Prix but, in thinking this, Kuertz has made a rare error in judgement.

James Garner > Steve McQueen

#truth

Roll the credits!

Ave Atque Vale; Holy Bull

Holy Bull, 26 years old - my favorite living racehorse - had to be put down today at his Lexington, Kentucky farm due to the "infirmities of old age."  You can read the news article as published this morning at The Blood-Horse, titled "Racing Loses One of its Greats: Holy Bull Dead at 26" by clicking here.  The farm's press release, with stirring video tribute, can be found here.

Holy Bull was the greatest thoroughbred that I personally saw in action when he raced in and won easily the 1994 Blue Grass Stakes at Keeneland.  The B Team Syndicate were together in the Keeneland grandstand that afternoon, me still a college undergraduate and with a sizable WIN and PLACE wager on Holy Bull, and we three were unanimous in our astonishment at how alertly he broke from - seemingly through - the starting gate and also at just how well he ran that late April afternoon in Lexington. 

I still have my Daily Racing Form from that day, complete with my extensive handicapping notes, sealed up and put away in storage.  Funny, those odd things we treasure.

That Holy Bull didn't run well in the slop at Churchill Downs for the Kentucky Derby some three weeks later and took down with him my $100 straight WIN wager (placed under the Twin Spires by Lou who was there to witness the spectacle in person) on that gloomy day of torrential rains never dampened my love for the big gray colt.  This demonstrates - I think - a strong, deeply felt sentiment from a cash-strapped college student!

The blistering, unforgiving 1994 Travers Stakes stands as one of Holy Bull's two greatest triumphs.  Bonus points for a great race call by track announcer Tom Durkin.  The other came when defeating a Kentucky Derby winner and a Belmont Stakes winner in the same thrilling race (1994 Woodward Stakes);  "Holy Bull toying with the best horses in training!" [Tom Durkin, again]

Steve Haskin's own tribute, "Farewell to a Friend," was published today by The Blood-Horse and can be found here.

Hail and Farewell, Holy Bull!

Epsom Derby 2017 DVR Alert

The sporting folks at NBCSN will broadcast the 238th running of the Epsom Derby tomorrow (Saturday June 3rd) morning at 10:30am Eastern Time [press release here].  Post time is 11:30am.  Check your local listings.

The greatest jockey in the history of mankind, Lanfranco "Frankie" Dettori, is aboard the morning line second betting choice, a colt named Cracksman.

The Epsom Derby is the second jewel in the English Triple Crown.  It is the race upon which our own Kentucky Derby is modeled.  Like the Kentucky Derby (and our American Triple Crown) the race is open only to three-year old horses.  For those of you who watch/wager on the Breeders' Cup, some of tomorrow's Epsom Derby entrants may very well make an appearance at the Breeders' Cup later this autumn.

Here is the promotional advertisement designed to stir your interest in the Epsom Derby.

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The Blood-Horse published this week a recount of a true-life mystery/scandal surrounding trainer Tom Smith - the legendary trainer of Seabiscuit - and an accusation that he was doping his stable of race horses (post-Seabiscuit) with performance enhancing drugs.  Or was he?  If you enjoy mysteries in general or court-room dramas and clandestine stake-outs then this story is for you.  In the end, despite an absolute outcome, one must draw their own conclusion as to whether any offense actually took place.  You can read the story titled "Silent Tom's Atomizer" here.

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Long-time subscriber Kuertz asked yesterday via back-channel communications about a tribute in recognition of an alleged accomplishment by a third-rate pop band known commonly [?] as the Liverpudlian Four.  Fat chance, pal!  Those guys were, to borrow a well-worn phrase from the Round Mound of Rebound, Sir Charles Barkley, turrible.  This is as close as you'll ever come to seeing a reference to the Crummy Four on these inciteful digital pages of Heavy Artillery.

Roll the credits!

Memorial Day Weekend Formula

In the event your Memorial Day weekend activities are washed out, this post highlights your television-viewing alternatives.

The mighty Cincinnati Reds begin the weekend in Philadelphia with day games on Saturday (4:05pm) and Sunday (1:35pm) before jetting across international boundaries to play in Toronto on Monday evening (7:07pm).

Turner Classic Movies broadcasts wall-to-wall war movies with an emphasis this Saturday on some of the lesser known Korean War films.  I cannot claim to have seen many of these myself yet I have seen and can recommend Men in War (1957; Saturday at 2:30pm).  Sunday and Monday features some of the better known WW2 films.  Set your DVR for Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo (1944; Sunday 1:45am) and pop the popcorn for Monday's broadcast of The Dirty Dozen (1967; 5:15pm), a classic that never gets old despite repeated viewings.   Wrap up your holiday war movie binge-watching with two submarine-centric films; Cary Grant in Destination Tokyo (1943; 8:00pm) and John Wayne in Operation Pacific (1951; 10:30pm).

There are not any big horse races this weekend.  Heads up; next Saturday, June 3, is the 238th running.... you read that correctly.... the two hundred thirty eighth running of the Epsom Derby.  One week after that is the Belmont Stakes.  Look for the third different horse to win one of the jewels of the 2017 Triple Crown.

Racing, however, is the subject matter which inspired this post.

Sunday's 101st Indianapolis 500 bills itself as "the greatest spectacle in racing."  This is open to considerable debate even when setting aside, for today's discussion, The Sport of Kings.

It is beyond question that open-wheel racing is vastly superior to all other forms of automobile racing, both historically and today.  That this fact is so universally understood, no further proffer of evidence is necessary.  That I don't have time to make my case is closer to the truth.  Remember, you didn't pay for this and you came here of your own volition.

Sunday morning's 4-wheel race day begins not in Indiana but rather on the scenic streets of Monaco when the Formula 1 series descends upon that Mediterranean principality.

F1 cars are the fastest road course racing cars in the known universe.  The Monaco Grand Prix, first held in 1929, may not today offer the highest speeds on the Formula 1 circuit (it certainly does not) nor provide the attraction of frequent opportunities for drivers to execute thrilling passes yet the Monaco circuit - above all others - demands from drivers the highest degree of technical skill in order to master.  This is what makes the race so thrilling.

Thrilling, but.... more.

Personally, I have always enjoyed most the perspective of F1 racing provided by the cars' onboard cameras.  Charging around the Monaco circuit is thrilling and, watching from the comfort of my sofa, terrifying.  For proof, watch, and then watch again, the video of Formula 1 legend Ayrton Senna blasting around the Monaco circuit from the 1990 Grand Prix.  Observe on your repeated viewings the immediate proximity of buildings, barriers, guardrails along the narrow streets of Monaco.  Become enthralled by the engine's screaming wail.  Watch as Senna repeatedly removes his right hand from the steering wheel in order to shift gears while, sometimes, simultaneously negotiating curves and turns.  These are some of the more evident forms of technical demands the Monaco circuit places upon drivers.

Due to advances in technology developed by Formula 1 cars, today's F1 drivers enjoy the luxury of keeping both hands on the wheel while shifting and activating a clutch pedal with the foot is a relic of the past.  Ergo, the F1 drivers of yore were superior.  Still, as is evidence by this video from last year's edition of the Monaco Grand Prix, the racing is just as thrilling and terrifying.

After growing up in the 1970s with the occasional F1 broadcast on ABC's Wide World of Sports, American sports broadcasting and journalism dropped the Formula 1 ball and by the 21st century my own interest in F1 subsided.  I had my F1 brothers-in-arms Claudio and Kuertz to buoy my limited access with their crumbs of information and their sparks of interest.  Then, while recuperating a few years ago from one misfortunate malady or another, I happened to catch on cable television a comprehensive F1 documentary titled, simply, 1.  The documentary provides detailed information concerning the history of the sport, the drivers and the cars.  The overriding theme of the documentary is on the myriad improvements in driver safety.  It wasn't long after that I'd mentioned this to Kuertz when he recommended the Ayrton Senna documentary, Senna.  I watched it shortly thereafter and found it gripping.  And devastating.  It's worth your time to watch.

Speaking yet still of Ayrton Senna, the 1992 edition of the Monaco Grand Prix - a race won by Senna - was voted the best-ever running of that race.

On a lighter note, in researching subjects to include in this post I found two old skool documentaries about the Monaco Grand Prix that will demand a greater commitment of your time.  I find them to be gems of storytelling from bygone eras.  The style and the sense of the films seem outmoded but sweet.  One is from 1957, the other from 1969.  Well, the doc from '57 is sweet.  The '69 version has more of a Rat Pack swinging '60s flair.

As an aside, shouldn't all British F1 drivers sport mustaches?

In the event you delude yourself into thinking that you could operate one of these machines, observe.

You can catch the Monaco Grand Prix Sunday morning on the NBC mothership, beginning at 8am.  Set your DVR if you plan on sleeping in on Sunday morning.

Roll the credits!

Derby 143; Dream Or Nightmare?

The 143rd running of the Kentucky Derby, held yesterday at historic Churchill Downs, earned its second-highest television viewership in 25 years.  NBC's national telecast for the Derby this year drew a 12% increase in viewership over last year's broadcast.  The third-greatest telecast market this year was recorded in Cincinnati and the sixth-best market was in Dayton, OH.

Southwest Ohio (aka God's Country) must certainly be a de facto northern extension of the Blue Grass state's horse country.

Wagering from all sources (off-site, out-of-state, internet, etc.) rose above $200 million for the first time ever, a 9% increase from 2016, and was 8% more than the previous all-time record (set previously in 2015).  The official attendance figure of 158,070 was the seventh-largest in Kentucky Derby history.

Such are the evident spoils of having a recent Triple Crown winner!

On Friday night I received a few inquiries as to if/when there might have been a post here in the digital pages of Heavy Artillery with Derby picks.  Sadly, as I reported back to one inquisitor, my free time this spring was so limited that I had not even so much as watched a single Derby prep race let alone had the opportunity to engage in my usual handicapping pursuits.  Until, that is, right that moment late in the evening on Kentucky Oaks Day.  I don't recall being so unprepared for a Kentucky Derby since the early 1980s.  And so Friday evening I set about my joyful hobby of studying the Daily Racing Form [supplied by Mr B, thanks Pop!] with supplementary references to the BrisNet ("Bloodstock Research Information Services") past performances graciously shared with me from my former source deep within the Reds organization codenamed "Campbell."  Beginning with the Derby itself I then worked my way chronologically backwards through the schedule of races until I'd covered the Derby Day Pick Six; crunching numbers, conducting comparisons, reading volumes of analysis, pausing for contemplative reflection, snacking on some cashews until my eyes went bleary.  I dreamed that night of, well, never-you-mind of that what I dreamt.

I rose early the morning of Derby Day because when you roll with Mr B you roll early.

Following several decades of Turfway Park being the official Derby Day host site for The B Team Syndicate and despite a handful of Derby Day forays to the racino in scenic Shelbyville, Indiana this year the old dog tried a new trick; Miami Valley Gaming in scenic historic Lebanon (or is it Monroe?), Ohio hard on the concrete banks of I-75 and in sight of the penitentiary.  Of course we'd been to the MVG racebook many times before, including - years ago - an infamous Belmont Stakes Day fiasco of egregious technological proportions which nearly drove me to swear off ever returning again, but had never before reserved a table there (we weren't even certain until recently whether MVG provided such amenities for its Derby Day patrons; they do). 

I piloted The B Team Syndicate to MVG in the Jeep Main Battle Tank, listening intermittently to trackside coverage live from Churchill Downs on WHAS 840 AM.  We arrived at MVG so early that the custodial crew was still vacuuming up detritus from the previous night's race-going patrons, staff had yet to set up the reception area to check-in and escort guests to their reserved tables, nor had the Derby Day decorative centerpieces (fake red roses in a plastic vase) been placed on the tables.  

We were there early.

This is how Mr B rolls. 

The upside to that maniacal sense of promptness was the ability for me to examine the track conditions, watch/listen to more so-called expert analysis and, crucially, handicap more races on the Derby Day undercard.  I did this from our table;

Lucky number... hey!  Who was responsible for this travesty of jinxification?!  Why do they even have a table numbered 13?

If you'll observe the low angle of sunlight cascading across the table and the dimly-lit background devoid of any human activity you should gain a strong sense of just how early we arrived at MVG.  

Yay!  Only 9 more hours until the playing of "My Old Kentucky Home."

Various members of Dad's cosa nostra of horse playing pals drifted in, joining us at our table and stirring up the handicapping conversations in advance of the first race (post time, 1030am).  With my own focus on handicapping as much as possible, I skipped wagering on the first two races (for which I hadn't yet even glanced at in the DRF), only taking time to watch the races without any personal betting or rooting interest.  When the call to the post was made for Race 3, I'd only had enough time to scan the entrants.  In scanning the field for Race 3, a horse's name leapt off the pages;  Far Right.  Two years ago, in 2015, Far Right was a then-three year old colt himself on the Derby Trail.  For assorted reasons Far Right did not make the starting Gate for Kentucky Derby 141.  His name was a memorable one for me and one that I know most of my loyal subscribers would feel an immediate sense of fondness for.  That was sarcasm.  I know not the derivation of his name nor to what it is in reference.  The track was rated as "Sloppy," I hadn't actually handicapped the race but I knew that at one time he was thought (potentially) to be a Derby-quality horse and he was about to go off at odds of 21-1.

So I loaded up!

With a $5 Show bet.  Probably the first Show wager I'd made since 1980.  The cosa nostra mocked my lightweight bet.  

O!  How they would soon come to rue their insolence!

Far Right finished the race exactly in third place, "Show," among a field of eight horses and returned to me $17.00.  The cosa nostra then paid due homage to me for my prescient and bold handicapping.

Later in the evening, Battle of Midway would pay more than $20 for a $2 Show wager when running third in the Derby.  Show bets can be lucrative given the right opportunity.  The right opportunity doesn't often arise.

Promptly I gave back to my fellow parimutuel bettors most of my winnings in the very next race, Race 4, when the horse I backed to Win and Place finished off the board.  It was free money and I backed the horse absent any actual handicapping but solely because it was sired by the Hall of Fame thoroughbred Ghostzapper, one of my all-time favorites.

One member of the cosa nostra of horse players at our table fired up his smartphone to give the rest of us access to the live coverage from TVG, a cable/satellite and internet provider of live racing and wagering.  One person at our table disinterested in this wonder of technical advancement was The Old Master of the Turf who loathes even his own smartphone, foisted upon him by Lou for work-related purposes.  See if you can locate Mr B's smartphone in the photo below:

Did you find it?

Look, there again.  Under his coffee cup.  Yes, that's right.  The Old Master of the Turf used his smartphone - a device with vastly more computing power and speed than the computers which sent Mankind to the Moon and back - as a hot beverage coaster.  Whoever said octogenarians can't be impudent?

Dad wants his old skool flip phone back.

Back on planet Earth, my handicapping kicked in with Race 5 and soon I was on a roll!  I cashed a sizable Win/Place wager in Race 5 that put me back into positive financial territory, in Race 6 I hit a straight trifecta (not "boxed" in wagering parlance) for a healthy haul of greenbacks and in Race 7 I cashed a winning Pick Three (wagered for the start of Race 5) that paid a modest return.  Race 7 also hailed the start of the Pick Six and one of my two selections for the first leg of the Pick Six came in first.

Large and in charge, was I, and up big too.

Then heading into Race 8 and on the precipice of ultimate triumph and obscene riches, wagering disaster struck with a cruel vengeance.

My Race 8 Win/Place horse finished out of the money.  Worse yet, I had a "live" Pick Three (begun with Race 6) and a "live" Pick 4 (starting with Race 5) that would have been cashed (and paid off, unquestionably, in the presence of armed guards) had any of my four selected horses won the 8th Race.  All I needed was for the #1, #3, #4 or #5 to win.  Numbers 1 & 3 failed to fire, with the #4 finishing 3rd and, agonizingly, the #5 finishing 2nd rallying furiously from an absurdly poor start to finish 4 lengths behind the eventual winner.  The Equibase trouble line reads in part as follows;  ".....[The #5 horse] broke slow, shifted out five wide to be clear, commenced his rally circling nine wide into the stretch...."  Even a minimally better start would have put my #5 horse into an easy position to win.  

The Pick Three paid $91.40, the Pick Four paid $577.40.

Each of those, now lost, Pick Three and Pick Four wagers cost me a not-insignificant sum.  Add to that my losing Race 8 Win/Place, oh and a now-dead Pick Three [$$$] from Race 7, and the now-dead Pick Three which started with Race 8 [yet more $$$] and the pricey Race 8 superfecta box that went down in flames [additional $$$] and my gravity-bending bankroll suddenly dematerialized.  

Instead of cashing nearly $700 on Race 8 alone, I was in a deepening hole which was soon to reveal itself as wagering quicksand.

It gets worse, and we're still re-living Race 8.  This Race 8 calamity also put a torpedo into the broadside of my "live" Pick Six, as constructed a nearly $100 wager (luckily I persuaded Lou to buy-in for a share before the Pick Six went all RMS Lusitania on me.  I mean "us.").

It is without exaggeration to say that Race 8 was the lynch pin to my day of wagering.  

Perhaps it wasn't a lynch pin at all but rather a grenade pin.  The grenade pin was pulled and I was a dead man walking handicapper wagering.

[As an aside, did I mention that Lou ate my lunch?  No, literally he ate my lunch.  We went for burgers and fries at noon.  The casino commissary kindly boxed them up for us - mine the BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger, his the Cheesiest of All Cheeseburgers - and we returned to our lucky Table #13.  Before eating I went to make a wager.  I returned to find Lou, three big bites into a burger with thick pieces of bacon sticking out the sides and him asking me Did they put bacon on your sandwich too?  I looked to find a three-cheese burger in my box.  Lou had BBQ sauce on his chin.]

After Race 8, it all went to hell in the paddock.  Horses were winning in the 9th, 10th and 11th races, mostly longshots, that I hadn't given any serious chance.  A horse named Limousine Liberal won the 10th.  You know I didn't put any Reserve Bank de-valued greenbacks on it.  All the while, the quicksand was rapidly pulling me to the bottom.

As the Derby itself nears, the time between races stretches to impossible dimensions that even Doctor Who has never visited.  Flipping through my DRF I saw a former Derby horse entered in a race that afternoon at Belmont so I took a closer look at the field.  The former Derby horse was entered as the #3.  Listed directly above this former Derby horse in the DRF was, of course, the #2 horse - a longshot sired by a horse named Drosselmeyer, himself a former upset winner of the Belmont Stakes.

I loaded up!

With $2 to Win and Place.

My #2 horse at Belmont finished 2nd and paid $7.60.   A far cry from the almost $700 I nearly cashed on Race 8 at Churchill but it represented the only ticket I cashed following my hot streak that ended abruptly back in Race 7 at Churchill.

Back at Churchill Downs, it was time for the 143rd Run for the Roses.  The Old Master of the Turf, as he always does, stands for the playing of "My Old Kentucky Home."

I remained seated, begging off with a fractured foot.

Dad is not from Kentucky.  However, virtually all of his horse playing cosa nostra - both living and otherwise - drew their first breaths in the Blue Grass.  I think Dad stands as much out of respect for them than for any other purpose one might ascribe.

As far back as December 2016, The Old Master had his Derby horse, Gunnevera.

Gunnevera drew a lot of betting interest for the Derby, bet down from his morning line odds of 15-1 down to 9-1 at post time.  The Old Master knows something about horse racing!

As for Mr Heavy Artillery, here were my picks:

Truth be told, I liked the #14 & #15 more than the #16.  But the #16 had the longest odds of the three (going off at odds of 26-1) and neck-deep in quicksand I was swinging for the fences.

The #16 finished 6th.

The #15 ran 8th.

The #14 nosed into the superfecta pool in 4th place.  

All in all, considering the surface (rated officially at post time as "Sloppy"), the uncertain development of three-year old colts in May and the too-large size of the Derby field with its resultant traffic problems, having horses finish 4th, 6th and 8th is fairly satisfactory handicapping even if I do say so myself.

Which I do.

If you examine my cryptic notations at the top of the DRF page (pictured above), you'll see that I was prepared to back the #11 and/or the #19 had late developments (scratches, etc) necessitated an alternate course of wagering.  The #11 finished in the money in 3rd place and the #19 crossed the line in 5th.

Of the five horses I was prepared to wager on in the 20-horse Kentucky Derby Slop-fest, none ran worse than 8th.

In fact, if one reviews the Equibase trouble lines, or the following day's reportage in The Blood-Horse, a more clear picture emerges illustrating that, had the three horses upon which I wagered had a better trip, they could have had a better - perhaps winning - finish:

"Classic Empire [the #14]...soon after the break... was hammered off stride between rivals when forced down... picked up steam leaving the far turn, swung five wide for the drive, had his run briefly interrupted when bumped and carried out mid stretch, regrouped and churned on."

 "McCracken [the #15] was jostled hard soon after the break, recovered and settled four wide, gained quickly when put to pressure leaving the half mile marker... was bumped and carried out mid stretch...."

Having a good break from the starting gate and getting a good, relatively trouble-free trip are critical to winning the Kentucky Derby.  My three horses didn't get that because the #17 (Irish War Cry, above) bolted from the gate and then veered hard left toward the rail, sequentially blowing up my #16, #15, and #14 in the process.

That's horse racing.

I may not have cashed a ticket on the Derby, and I certainly didn't pick the first- or second-place finishers but my Derby handicapping crushed it after that.  For whatever that's worth.

"Zero."

Roll the credits!