<h2>I’ve always been fascinated by the sport of horse racing for a variety of reasons. As someone who is not a Louisville native, my wonder has only increased during the six years I have now called the city home. <h2>For me, the first intriguing part about the sport is that it is the only one in which the athletes involved aren’t, well, people. I am a lover of baseball, a staunch supporter of hockey, an edge-of-my-seat basketball viewer, and a loud and loquacious admirer of football. But in all of those games, I am at least rooting for members of humanity. Don’t get me wrong, racing of the variety that Louisville takes so much pride in is still athletic competition at the end of the day. And there’s no reason to take anything away from the athletes involved. Jockeys, while diminutive in stature, are surely large of heart and fearless in their craft. The amazing beasts they skillfully float above on their way around a race track are nothing if not physically impressive. It’s just that, again, they are horses, not humans. I can’t quite dive into horse racing with the same consistent level of interest or enthusiasm that makes me such an unabashed fan of the four major American sports. There, fandom is cultivated over years and enhanced by athletes’ charm, charisma and character.
If being a fan of a member of the animal community isn’t strange enough, the fact that most of this rooting interest comes from betting and financial gain, as opposed to an affinity for the athletes involved, is also rather perplexing. This seems more akin to cheering a stock’s performance on the Dow Jones Industrial Average than, say, being a die-hard Los Angeles Lakers fan. I want Kobe Bryant to dominate because I love him and the rest of the purple and gold, not because I have dollar signs on my mind. There are exceptions of course, as in the case of Barbaro, whose recovery from a broken leg suffered in the Preakness Stakes was met with an incredible level of local (he also won the Kentucky Derby that year) and national support that was punctuated by school children sending homemade get-well-soon cards, before he eventually succumbed to his injuries. In addition, I’ll say that Secretariat should be on the short list of the greatest athletes of all time. He achieved a cult of personality no horse before or after can lay claim to during his Triple Crown run. If you’ve ever seen the famous photos from his incredible 1973 performance in the Belmont Stakes, where he not only blew away the rest of the field with a record 2:24 time on the mile and a half track, but made the other horses involved look like they were mistakenly shod with cinder blocks, you know that I’m right.
But again, these are exceptions rather than the rule. I can’t imagine placing a significant amount of my net worth down on how a horse race is going to shake out, in order to make for an entertaining day at the track. The main reason being that handicapping – a gambling guide for race fans – is carried out by folks who are trying to judge the performance (and get inside the head of) an animal. Wagering on sporting events is hard enough when the athletes happen to be of my own species. But I can at least rely on Las Vegas to take into account tangible factors like the way two teams match up against each other, the personality and prowess of the star athletes involved, and home field advantage when setting up a betting line. With horse racing, there’s just no way I’m penciling in my quinella based upon previous times on similar tracks, post position, or the predicted pace of the race, let alone on infinitely less concrete factors like equine body language. Sorry, but I don’t think anybody can tell how the movement of a horse’s tail across its backside or the angle of its ears contributes to its performance on a given day. Anyone who feels they can do so with any surety should be labeled a fool at best and a charlatan at worst. For those like myself who are wary of the odds and monetarily faint of heart, take my advice: Pick out a sharp looking seersucker or an extravagant hat, maybe place a small wager to enhance the experience, but mostly just enjoy the action at Churchill Downs on that first Saturday in May. Losing your shirt on animals running in an oval is a difficult way to make your Derby festivities become a happy memory. In the end, it’s probably better to make the mint sprig in your julep the only green you’re concerned with come Derby Day.
–Mark Schultz
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And yet… horse racing (and the Derby in particular) give you *more* than just a single person to root for. There are at least 4 stories with each entry.
There’s the horse, of course (of course). And among the humans, there’s the jockey, there’s the owner, and, let’s not forget, there’s the trainer.
Horse racing gives you more *stories* than any other sport. Take time to listen to them. If you do, you’ll have at least one rooting interest, come Derby time. You can bet on that.