Saratoga Horse Racing Blog: Mairzy Doats By The Alpha Mare Marion Altieri

Orb. ORB. ORB! Will He Do it? Does it Matter?

2013-05-14T20:15:17Z

I'm a rabid Orb-lover. I bet him in the Kentucky Derby, because I knew--I just knew--that he'd win. I knew I wouldn't be able to pay the mortgage with my winnings, but I wanted to know that I knew.

You know?

I embraced The Great Bay Hope when he won the Fountain of Youth. Orb beat Violence by a narrow margin, but something in his eye and written on his face convinced me that he's The Real Deal.

The Great One went on to take the Florida Derby, then (as y'all know), he gave Hall of Fame Trainer, Shug McGaughey his first Kentucky Derby victory on the First Saturday in May.

It is now a few days before the Preakness, and racing fans the world over are watching and waiting...can he--will he--win the Preakness? If he does--and God knows, I hope he does--we'll all be treated to another two weeks of absolute mayhem, as Triple Crown dreams build, once again...

]]> I love Orb for many reasons, not the least of which is that he's a great-grandson of the mighty Seattle Slew, my favorite all-time Thoroughbred. (John, a new racing friend, says that Slew is underrated both as a race horse and as a sire. He's right. Slew was magnificent, but he gets overshadowed too often. Everyone talks about Affirmed, because he was the last T3 winner. But Slew doesn't get his due.)

Every time I watch Orb race or workout, I see Slew slammin' down the track, Cruguet up.

I find it fascinating that people in this sport spend millions of dollars on a yearling who knows only how to walk out of her stall...and a major factor in the prices driving up seem to be the power of the sire.

But if the sire himself is so important--say, Malibu Moon--why not look back just a couple of generations and say, "WOW, SEATTLE SLEW--HE won the Triple Crown." Were I going to buy a horse, I'd look for a horse whose ancestors achieved hugely, not just her Daddy. (Dams should be considered heavily, as well--but that's an argument for another column, on another day.)

Genetics is genetics: I have my Great-Uncle's red hair. It's been a topic of conversation my entire life. It didn't just happen by accident--I had the genes for it. Similarly, I have other talents that my Mother never had--but Grandma passed them on to me.

So Slew in Orb's ancestry (not all-that-far back, at that)--is a huge deal if we're talking about a horse who can conquer Big Sandy. Seattle Slew did it with great grace--he war danced out onto that monstrous oval in 1977--he stared it down, and beat it at its own game.

But I'm getting ahead of myself: first Orb has to take the Preakness, and never, ever, ever do I say that something "definitely" will happen. As we found out last year with the beautiful I'll Have Another--things can happen. So I wish Orb well, will continue to pray for his safety and health--and I hope that he wins the Preakness. With all my heart, I hope this.

Big Sandy. There are reasons why Belmont's track is called this. The depth, materials and enormous expanse of the track was made to test a Champion. Not just any horse can race at Belmont--in any race--and win.

But the Belmont Stakes is 1 1/2 miles long (one mile, four furlongs)--a grueling test for American Thoroughbreds, who aren't used to distances. (By comparison, the Saint Ledger--third leg of the U.K.'s Triple Crown, is 1 mile, six furlongs and 132 yards.)

We've all heard the argument thrown out there now and then--just about...now...it should be rearing its head again...that the Triple Crown in the U.S. is "too difficult," and that the Belmont Stakes should be shortened.

That's nonsense. Instead of shortening the length of a genuine challenge--maybe American breeders and trainers need to breed and train horses who laugh in the face of a mile-and-a-half. Wild horses in Nevada run many miles a day, regardless of weather. Many people think of them as being "mutts." (They're not.)

But if a wild horse can run 15 miles in a day, then a groomed, trained, well-fed, healthy Thoroughbred should be capable of running a mile-and-a-half. Instead of treating them like hothouse flowers--too delicate to exist outside of certain parameters--we should concentrate instead on tweaking the breed so that Big Sandy is a test, but not a career-ender.

In fact, that finally brings us to the topic of this essay! The title poses the questions, Will He Do It? and Does It Matter?

I say that certainly, Orb has the ability to win the Belmont Stakes, thereby, the Triple Crown. If he wins the Preakness, I don't see Belmont as posing a threat to the horse: Home Field Advantage. He lives at Belmont, he works out there.

On Monday, the 13th, he fired a bullet during a breeze: 47.18, Jennifer Patterson, up. He got into a van, took a ride to Pimlico, then worked out again this morning. I may be just a woman in love, but to me this sounds like a horse made of steel.

After the Preakness--win or not--he'll go back to Belmont, get off the van and think, "Ahhh, I'm home."

I want him to win the Preakness.

I want him to win his way to the Belmont. And since Belmont is Home, and he feels so comfy there--the 1 1/2 mile on his comfy, sandy track may not seem like such a Big Deal.

But I shan't say anything that sounds like a prediction, because we all know that things can happen. He can have a fever the day before the Belmont, and scratch.

That would make me sad, and millions of other people as well. I'd love to see a Triple Crown winner in my lifetime, because I didn't get to see Affirmed, Slew or Secretariat do it, in person. And was at Belmont, weeping, when Funny Cide and Smarty Jones were denied the crown. I cried when I'll Have Another scratched last year.

I'm sure that we'd all love to see Orb win the Triple Crown. (Well, all except the connections of other horses in the last two legs.)

But if Orb is the Preakness winner, then scratches out of the Belmont--would that be tragic for the sport as a whole?

* It would be royally lousy for NYRA, for sure.

I* t would affect the handle, the attendance--everything about the Belmont.

* A lot of bettors and handicappers would have hissy fits.

* It would make many people--including me--profoundly sad. I love Orb, and I think that he has the Heart of a Hero.

But, mushy horse lover that I am--whatever is best for the horse is OK by me. A horse's health and safety are always first in my book.

And I have to pose the question again--if we have no Triple Crown winner this year--will that be a tragedy?

I say, no.

We've all heard many people say that we (that is, the sport of horse racing) need a Triple Crown winner.

No, we don't.

Why does the sport "need" a horse--any horse--to win the Triple Crown? Because no one's done it since 1978?

Horse racing needs a lot of things--especially racing here in America:

* We need to become known as THE equine sport that takes care of the horses whom God has entrusted to us. The world does need to see that horse racing cares--enough to punish those who are bad to horses. We must come together as a community, to assure that no horse ever leaves an American track and ends up in New Holland, or another auction house that leads to a Mexican or Canadian slaughter house.

* We need to create a commission, and hire a commissioner. Not a government-run committee, an actual commission of horsewomen and horsemen who set the regs and assures compliance thereof. (I still vote for LeRoy Jolley.)

* We need to be of one mind with Europe and the rest of Planet Earth regarding doping horses. The health of the horses and our reputation depends on it.

* We need to market the sport to females and other minorities--because it's the 21st Century.

* We need to get smart, and start advertising races to the majority of the fan base: women. American racing still doesn't get it, that women are the majority of the fan base, and of consumers. Make more ads aimed at us, and we will reward you in spades.

* We need to start breeding Thoroughbreds who are strong-of-ankle, and get away from Native Dancer. Think about the Byerly Turk and his line. (This opinion does not indicate that I think that we should get rid of the horses who exist now, of course. Don't read that into it.)

* We need to work with networks like ESPN and every other sports network and media (those that are not racing-specific) to get Horse Racing off the Other Sports button, and onto the Homepage of their websites. Really, folks, we need a sit-down with the boys and girls who run generic sports media and help them realize that Horse Racing should be on the Homepage. You have to go to Other Sports, then scroll down to find Horse Racing. On ESPN, it's just above Poker. (Poker, BTW, is a GAME, not a SPORT. No one ever fell off a poker table, unless they were drunk.)

* We need to think seriously about the viability of introducing Arabian horse racing onto Thoroughbred tracks. They do it in Kentucky and Delaware, and other states. Arabians aren't dragons or cats--they're beautiful horses who run with their souls in every step. For a Thoroughbred track to host a couple of Arabian races a couple of times a week won't lessen the value of the other races, or of the track: it will bring in more handle and more fans who just want to see beautiful creatures run. If it takes an act of state legislatures to make it happen, then so be it.

* We need a lot of things...but we don't really need a Triple Crown winner. We'd love a Triple Crown winner--having a Triple Crown victor in 2013 would make us ecstatic. But like a child who needs candy--that's an over-exaggeration . We want, we don't need.

It would be groovy if a horse rises up out of the masses and takes the Crown. My very soul wants Orb to do it. Orb may very well be a horse who truly has the stuff to conquer all three races in that brief time. We don't want to cheapen the Triple Crown by shortening the Belmont. We want to make horses who can cut it, in the future.

Orb might be one of those few-and-far-between horses.

All the problems in horse racing aren't going to go away suddenly just because Orb or another horse, in another year, wins a difficult series of three races.

In fact, to keep repeating the mantra that we need a Triple Crown winner this year puts way too much responsibility on the withers of a single critter--and takes none of the responsibilities for ourselves. We--the professionals in the sport and the fans--are the only ones who can make the sport grow.

How Can I Say That?

A Triple Crown victory--even this year--isn't going to grow the sport. Not in the ways that people think it will. People who aren't already fans won't start flocking to local tracks, just because basically, one horse won one race or race series. People who aren't fans don't give a rat's patootie about the T3, so why would a T3 Champion draw them to a local track? It won't.

Yes, casual observers may watch the Kentucky Derby on TV--have a house party--but I'd rather bet on rat wrestling than take the bet that the viewing of any T3 race will turn non-fans into rabid fanatics.

* Once again, the Big Secret--the way to grow the sport--is to introduce people first to...wait for it...a HORSE. Get them to fall in love with the species, then tell them about racing and wagering.

Teaching people to wager, without the love of the horse--is going about it bass-ackward.

* Nurture women and girls who love horses. We're already the majority of the fan base--we're already fanatics about horses--let's get women who are fans to help us evangelize for the sport.

* Get other minorities involved, those groups of people who think that they're excluded, or not welcome. Horses see only the eye and the hearts of humans--racing needs to operate the same way. We need to create programs to get more minorities involved as fans, owners, trainers--all across-the-board.

I love horses, I love horse racing. I love this wonderful, wacky, crazy, brilliant, shining community of spirits--both equine and human--who make racing happen. I want our sport to grow, in spades. I want to see racing take its rightful place, as America's Sport, as it was in the 1930s.

Orb, winning the Triple Crown, isn't going to make everything all right, as if by magic. To expect a miracle like that is to give dear Orb more responsibility than is rightfully his. His job is to run, run like a lunatic, win and make his connections and fans happy. We'll have a national festival if this happens. But it's still not his job.

Saving racing is our jobs--all of us. We, the humans--the ones with thumbs--are the ones who must run our own race as a community. The more time we waste messing around, saying that a Triple Crown victory will "save" the sport--the more time we're losing, actually doing something about it.

Photo Credits:

* Seattle Slew and Jean Cruguet win the Belmont Stakes/Triple Crown, 1977. Courtesy of Sports Illustrated

* Orb fires a bullet at Belmont Park, May 13, 2013. Courtesy of NYRA/Adam Coglianese

* Orb, lookin' atcha. Courtesy of NYRA/Adam Coglianese

Whinnying Colors by Fan Favorites: Your Chance to Own an Original Moneigh

2013-05-12T23:55:00Z

This is an event that you should attend, virtually.

I didn't write the article, below--I merely took the press release, and edited it. (I'm obsessive--you should know me by now. I never just "look at" something--I have to mess around with it.)

ReRun is a wonderful organization--loving people who do wonderful things for horses. Somehow they teach Thoroughbreds how to paint--YES, to paint--and thereby, become master artists. The paintings are sold--in this case, via eBay--and proceeds to go help ReRun's programs galloping along.

Here's what you do: go to either eBay, following the instructions, or directly to www.ReRun.org and buy something. Heck, throw buckets of cash at them. And if you can't buy something right now, think about it for the future. And perhaps you have a talent or two, that you can offer to ReRun to help their cause.

Whatever you do, read the information, below, and think about how much you loved seeing the glorious, swift Champions on the list during their racing careers.

Now, go to ReRun.org and thank your favorite Champion for all the joy you experienced.

The tracks go in one direction, only, but horse racing is a two-way street.

Thanks...

]]> For immediate release:

ReRun offers Whinnying Colors on ebay®

ReRun, Inc., a Thoroughbred retraining and adoption charity, is holding this year's spring auction of Moneighs® from May 26 to June 2, 2013 on ebay®.

A Moneigh is a 20" x 16," abstract painting created by a horse using muzzle, whiskers, hoof, tail or paintbrush. The trademarked name is derived from the name of the French artist, Monet, and the sound made by a horse. ReRun has completed over 1000 paintings since 2001.

The theme of this event is "Whinnying Colors by Fan Favorites." Co- chairs of the auction are Einstein and Gio Ponti, two artists who always brought racing excitement to their fans. Their works of art will be offered, along with the following artists (some of whom have won coveted Triple Crown races):

Animal Kingdom

Awesome Maria

Better Talk Now

Brass Hat

Cigar

Evening Attire

Ghostzapper

Go For Gin

Groupie Doll

Mucho Macho Man

Rapid Redux

Sarava

Shackleford and

Summer Bird.

Two favorite artists from the hunter-jumper world are Carlsson Vom Dach (Olympic Gold Medalist) and Rox Dene (Hunter Jumper of the Century).

Proceeds from the auction provide aftercare for the horses in ReRun's program. To view or bid on the paintings, go to ebay.com and type MONEIGH as the search word; or go to www.rerun.org and click on the ebay icon.

Thank you.

NOTES:

Photo Credit: ReRun

The late, great Storm Cat contributes to the cause. God rest Storm Cat's soul.

Mad Men in the 21st Century? Horse Racing Advertisers Forget Their Largest Audience.

2013-05-06T10:55:11Z

On Kentucky Derby Day, I arrived at Lenny and Patti's house, ready to rock.

I plopped down onto their comfy sofa, sipped from my Coke, and jumped into the lively pre-Derby conversation. OTB tickets distributed, we three launched ourselves into the fray. Ah, the camaraderie of Derby Day, whether you're on Millionaires' Row or Lenny's couch. We could feel the vibe in Louisville, all the way up here.

The joy of anticipation quickly dissipated as the advertisements took stage on NBC Sports Network's pre-Derby show.

The first ad I saw was for Stella Artois. Nice ad. Stella's a beer, and their ads are stylish. Respectful of women. I love their marketing genius, to suggest strongly that imbibers consume their beer from a chalice--as opposed to a glass. Brilliant. Their ads always feature a woman and a man, drinking Stella Artois from chalices in a graceful environment.

Nice.

I smiled during this ad, thinking about the brilliance of the person who conceived of this marketing strategy--and of the intelligence of the honchos who gave it the nod.

My pre-Derby reverie immediately went downhill after Stella.

The next ad was crammed into my eyeballs--in 53," high-def, full-color, violent, full-assault mode--and utterly freaked me out. From my retinae, horribly enough, it burned forever into my memory.

You see, the next ad was for a razor. But not just any razor: it seems that some men are overly concerned about body hair. And this electronic, hand-held lawn mower has one job in its miserable existence: to rid men of unwanted body hair. Of course, the only bits shown by the ad were of men scraping hair off their chests and backs--but OH, GOOD GOD.

I don't want to see that--no one does. (A show of hands, please, for those who think that watching a man groom himself is entertainment.)

No one wants to see that--except the "hot," barely-clad, young babes in the ad. You recognize those young women who thank God every day, that they're not smart. (Because when a woman is smart it causes trouble, for everyone.) Apparently these single-digit-IQ'd chicklets want their men to be smooth as glass, and fake.

Isn't this device the sort of thing that should be marketed by Word-of-Mouth, via BzzAgent.com, or some other man-to-man medium? How about magazines directed at men? Surely, they'd love to host ads for a product that will mow down even the most-hirsute of male bodies.

But the Kentucky Derby? Who--why--how--did anyone think that this ad was appropriate?

Shortly after the 60-second horror show, I realized something even more obscene and inappropriate:

Whoever made the decisions about advertising...thinks that women don't watch the Kentucky Derby. Or know, love or participate in horse racing.

This is a problem...

]]> Just a few ads into the broadcast, I had the revelation that the majority of ads during the Derby broadcast were geared toward men.

There were several gender-neutral ads that day, by enlightened companies run by people who think like the brewers of Stella Artois. ScotTrade and Crown Royal come to mind. Although I may have seen one Crown Royal ad that featured unnecessary womanflesh, my memory recalls that generally their ads are gender-neutral. Enjoyable by everyone, regardless of gender.

The Longines ad was by far the most beautiful commercial I've ever seen for a product. Any product, in any venue.

(An aside: the Bessemer Trust ads always make me cry: "Cue the Irish music," says my friend, Karen, as she laughs at me weeping during Bessemer Trust ads.)

But this year, Longines beat even the Phipps-owned wealth management firm for beauty, style, class and absolutely knowing their target audience. (Go, Orb!)

Longines pulled out all the stops, and showed the world that--not only do they know about horse racing--the company lives and breathes it. Longines understands horse racing and the historic elegance associated with the two.

Dubai-based horse racing lifestyle magazine, Al Badia features a Longines' ad on the back cover--usually of actor, Simon Baker and a gorgeous horse.

The ad reads, "Elegance is an attitude."

No need or desire for screaming guitars, naked women or boys with curled lips and tats.

Just one very classy gentleman, a horse and a watch.

Smart people get the message.

And Longines knows that smart people--smart, rich people, those who can afford their timepieces--come in both genders.

(In case you were in a coma on Saturday, or went to refresh your Mint Julep during the ads--here's the URL to the Longines' videos page. Click on the video, At the heart of passion:

http://www.longines.com/watches/films )

Gender-neutral advertising. I'm all about it. It makes everyone in my gender feel welcome to the Consumption Party. ("Come on in, everyone--test our product, and buy-buy-buy!")

Believe me, I would buy a Longines' watch, were it within my means--just because they have class, and they don't discriminate against women in their advertising.

I started making a list on Derby Day, of all the ads--but there were so many that I couldn't keep up. To the best of my ability, I identified three categories:

* Gender-neutral (a few)

* Children ("The Despicables" film--one ad that I saw for little ones.)

* Male-oriented (98%, I'd say.)

And not a single ad--not a nod, a wink, a nudge--not a single ad aimed at women.

Read that again. To the best of my recollection--and I was watching, intently--there was not one ad aimed at women as consumers.

This is stupid. I don't mean that as an opinion, I mean that--to omit at least 51% of your audience--is idiotic. (Whether that decision or omission was made by Churchill Downs; the Kentucky Derby administrators or NBC Sports Network--it was a stupid business decision.)

I don't think that it was stupid, I simply identify it as such, and am passing on the fact to you.

NO, I don't think that women's personal products should have taken front-and-center, any more than I think that the body-hair-razor should have been shown. But I DO know that women buy cars. How about an ad for Mercedes that features a woman driving that new Benz with the great safety features?

Women buy horses. If your ad campaign to sell horses isn't gender-neutral, you might consider marketing to females.

Women buy houses, and farms. How about real estate ads directed at women in the horse racing industry?

Women buy cars. According to statistics, we buy a lot of them.

Women buy items in virtually every product category in the world. So why are not more advertisers aiming their ads at us?

Racing never will grow healthily into this Century and beyond until those who run the marketing and ad campaigns recognize that women are the backbone of horse racing.

The flip side of this coin is that, even though we're almost halfway through the 14th year of this Millennium--advertisers who sponsor horse racing have yet to recognize that females are the majority of the fan base--and of potential fans.

Many people over the years have accused me of hallucinating, of creating statistics that don't exist, when I cite this fact. I'd read it in a report several years ago, a report sponsored by the Sporting Goods Manufacturers' Association. Try as I might, I cannot find that report or the specific pages about horse racing online. It appears that when the SGMA changed its name to Sporting & Fitness Industry Association in 2012, all their previous reports went flying off into Cyberspace, along with the old website.

This seeming lack of evidence might confirm the beliefs of the naysayers who believe that the stats I quote and insistence that women are the majority of the fans in horse racing--are just-so-much hooey.

Not to despair! I'm not crazy, or rabid: Scarborough Sports Marketing, a company out of Chicago and New York generated a press release in--get this--2004, reporting the results of a comprehensive study they'd conducted. The headline and intro paragraph read thus:

WHEN IT COMES TO LOYAL HORSE RACING FANS, WOMEN ARE A SURE BET FOR MARKETERS, ACCORDING TO SCARBOROUGH SPORTS MARKETING

NEW YORK (October 26, 2004) - Scarborough Sports Marketing released an analysis that finds that horse racing is attracting female consumers. Fifty-two percent of Loyal* Horse Racing Fans are women. The only other sport out of the 23 measured by Scarborough where a higher percentage of Loyal Fans are female is the WNBA. Fifty-seven percent of Loyal WNBA Fans are women.

In case 2004 is too far-back for you, consider this statistic: May 4, 2013: Nielson, the company that can tell who's watching what, down to a fraction--reported that 52% of the viewing audience of the Kentucky Derby in 2013 was female. And viewership rose 16% from 2012, to 16.2 million viewers. Translated: over 8,424,000 of the viewers of the Kentucky Derby were women--and not a single ad was aimed at coaxing the money of those women out of our purses to buy stuff.

Isn't that silly?

It appears that the people who plan advertising for horse racing--such as producers for TV broadcasts--don't have a clue: they're still aiming 99% of the ads on horse racing shows at the 48%.

Isn't it bad planning, to sell ads for items that the majority of your viewers probably won't buy because the majority of the ads exploit their gender?

(Ummmmm...YES, little Johnny, an ad that features a scantily-clad woman, draped across a Camaro, or bouncing around a golf course IS exploitation of women.)

But let's give them some credit: perhaps they just didn't understand that we're the foundation of the fan base. But now they know, the truth is Our There: henceforth, ignorance of the fact is no excuse to exclude us.

I would write, "I rest my case," but I don't. Not yet.

The same evening that I went berserk because of the apparent No Women Ads Zone on Derby broadcasting, I found a link. Through Fast Company, I found this article:

Fastcodesign.com: "Women Dominate the Global Marketplace: Here are 5 Keys to Reaching Them" by Susan Fabry*

I'm going to give you a couple of brilliant points contained herein, but I suggest strongly that you read the entire article. Especially if you're a person who has a product or service for which you buy advertising:

The nutshell, the five ways to reach us:

1.   Acknowledge her influence.
2.         Join her circle.
3.         Understand her similarities.
4.         Respect her differences.
5.         Grow with her.

And WHY is it that businesspeople with products and services to sell should advertise to we women?

Because, according to Ms. Fabry:

"Women control 65 percent of global spending and more than 80 percent of U.S. spending. By 2014, the World Bank predicts that the global income of women will grow by more than $5 trillion."

THAT's why.

So, girls and boys, let's put on our thinking caps: The past is the past. The person in charge of advertising sales for the Kentucky Derby screwed up, but it's not too late. That person may have thought that s/he was targeting the right market, but they were oh-so-wrong.

Citing Scarborough Sports Marketing, Nielson and Susan Fabry, simply put:

Women are the majority of the fan base of horse racing and

Women control global spending.

The natural conclusion seems to be impossible to miss: advertise to US:

We love horses.

We love horse racing.

We buy stuff.

If you're looking to put your advertising dollars where they'll produce the most bang for your buck--please consider investing your dollars in media that appreciate and understand these statistics.

Do some research--find out which media are woman-friendly. Find out which are woman-run. Find out which horse racing media cater to the majority--and who offer advertising that will reach We Womenfolk.

Get creative with your ad team, and make the switcheroo: if you sell cars, don't make ads that feature bikini-clad girls draped across the hood of a car. Instead, create ads with smart, savvy women at the wheel of your Mercedes.

The chick draped across the car can't even spell, "car," never mind--buy one.

The woman in the Mercedes ad may be your next customer.

That's all she wrote.

NOTES:

* http://www.fastcodesign.com/1663594/women-dominate-the-global-market-place-here-are-5-keys-to-reaching-them*

* And while you're shopping for venues for your ads--perhaps you'll drop me a line and ask about advertising in f!lly Magazine. :)

No f!llies in the Kentucky Derby: American Horse Racing Runs Backward, with a Bullet.

2013-05-03T13:13:43Z

Happy Kentucky Derby Day, readers. Enjoy your Derby celebration--have a great time, wear big or goofy hats, scream at the TV, to urge your horse around the second turn. Celebrate our beautiful sport.

But remember, please, that the best horse--the horse who has a chance to win the Triple Crown--may not be in that field of 20.

The three-year-old horse who has the potential to sweep the three races--and it hasn't happened since 1978--may be a f!lly, and f!llies are not invited to the party on the First Saturday in May.

Horses of my gender are not desired, welcomed or invited to participate. The rejection is not overt, but cleverly disguised as a system that created a level playing field. "Level," that is, if you're a colt...

]]>

Eight Belles: a History Lesson. But Not the One You Think.

Yesterday, I awoke with the very clear idea that I should write about Eight Belles. I don't have to tell you that the talented, powerful, driven, steel-grey f!lly broke down at the Kentucky Derby on May 3, 2008--after coming in second to Big Brown. I was there that horrible day, and experienced, first-hand, the grief that swept over 157,000 devastated human hearts. Men and women alike wept openly. Parents held their children close. It was a rotten day for horse racing--but obviously the most pain was suffered by Eight Belles' connections.

In the falling-all-over-themselves media rush to "inform" the public, horse racing was trashed immediately and soundly in virtually every corner of the U.S. The cacophony began before Eight Belles' grieving connections left Churchill Downs.

And much of the nonsense that emanated from those media read, said or declared loudly that Eight Belles wouldn't be dead if she hadn't raced against males.

That is an outright lie. She died because she ran with all her heart--because she was THAT competitive--because she went all-out. She died because--like every other horse in that Derby and the majority of Thoroughbreds in the United States--she was a descendant of Native Dancer. Native Dancer was known for his weak ankles.

If anything, Eight Belles is the poster child for more creative breeding. As I drove to Churchill Downs that morning, I prayed that none of the weak-ankled Native Dancer's grandkids would be injured. It was inevitable that all that inbreeding would reproduce the old boy's weakness in spades.

I prayed, also, that horse racing would get smart and follow the late, great Jess Jackson's insightful warning--and start to breed back to the Byerly Turk, whose line is all-but-extinct.

Eight Belles may have broken down in any other race during her career--she could have died running against the slowest f!llies in the country. She might have tripped coming out of her stall. Native Dancer condemned her to bad ankles--it may have been her ironic, genetic destiny to die in front of so many people, perhaps as a lesson on inbreeding.

But she absolutely, positively did not die because she had female body parts.

She didn't trip because she was distracted, thinking about the handsome Big Brown.

She wasn't "overstimulated" by running that fast and that hard against males.

Her femaleness was not a factor in her tragic death in such a public place. The most inane argument, ever, against females racing against males is that they shouldn't do it because they're females. (That logic isn't correct, I call it Mobius Strip Thinking: two-dimensional, and infinitely illogical.)

So I awoke yesterday, thinking of the rock star horse who gave her life five years ago, and that I felt compelled to work through these thoughts:

* Eight Belles did not break down because she was packin' lady bits.

* Unfortunately, the "Eight Belles Factor" may have contributed to racing's continued bias against f!llies.

* And that this bias against female horses--in spite of big, strapping Queens like Black Caviar, Rachel Alexandra and Makybe Diva--may have come to a head in the elimination of f!llies from racing in the Kentucky Derby.

A Great Find

I awoke, and was on a mission. I didn't want to accuse anyone of creating the Kentucky Derby Dead-End for f!llies, unless I had evidence to back up the accusation. So I went online, and found a brilliant article in "The Washington Times," by Martha M. Boltz. (Fillies are Not Allowed to Run in Kentucky Derby 2013. Citation below.) Her article was so direct that I felt safe--PHEW!--writing my own take on the situation. (I posted it to my Facebook wall, it's that good that I would share it with my FB peeps.)*

So, They Decided th
at the Girls Couldn't Play.

Oh, those boys who run the Kentucky Derby. They stacked the deck against f!llies.

This is how I imagine it played out: Somewhere in a backroom in Louisville, some human male-types were feeling uneasy. (Maybe even some females who acquiesce in the mislead belief that they'll advance through the ranks by nodding and smiling.) They powers that be had seen three females take Horse of the Year in a four-year period (Rachel Alexandra--2009; Zenyatta--2010, Havre de Grace--2011)--and they decided to put the kibosh on any uppity women with high aspirations.

Genius! They devised a point system, by which horses could earn their way into the Kentucky Derby. They thought that no one would notice that, by creating this system, they had ensured that no f!lly would be able to play on May 4th--or any subsequent First Saturday in May.

They marketed this corporate misogyny as being the most-fair way to eliminate those not truly worthy of the Kentucky Derby. To 49% of the population, this system may seem to be intelligent, fair and valid. A good measuring stick for entry into the first race in the Triple Crown.

The problem with the points system is that not a single race for f!llies is part of the system.

Shock! Amazement! Are we surprised, really, that--in one of the very few countries on Earth where it's an anomaly for f!llies to race against males because of lingering misogyny--that the boys (and nodding, smiling girls) would devise a way to eliminate f!llies altogether from the 20-horse field?

Imagine that--the idea that no races for f!llies were designated to be good enough, or high enough, or tough enough to merit points in the system. (Remember, folks, that this is the same American horse racing tradition that historically pays approximately half the purse money for f!lly races that are the same level, difficulty, distance and surface as their "male" counterpart races.)

The idiotic, weak argument is that if the girls wanted to earn their way into the Derby, they would have to run against males in the races that ARE in the points system--and win. In theory, the womenfolk-horses would have been forced to run and win races that aren't necessarily their thing: distances, etc.

So Dreaming of Julia and other talented females who entered the Oaks on Friday--well, several may have been cheated out of getting a fair shot at immortality. At least via the Triple Crown.

The exclusion of f!lly races from the points system tells you what the powers that be really think of female horses, doesn't it?

Hardly seems fair...

Let's boil this down. Read this slowly and deliberately, please:

Horses of exceptional caliber ran in the Kentucky Oaks on the First Friday in May, because they couldn't earn berths into the Kentucky Derby.

It wasn't that none of them were good enough.

It's not because no f!lly is capable, strong, fast or powerful.

Simply put, f!llies weren't invited to the party.

Old Habits Die Hard.

I can't blame anyone for being afraid of the future--for wanting things to stay the same. The old saw, "If it ain't broke--don't fix it" applies here. But the problem is that any system that prevents an entire genderful of horses from entering the Kentucky Derby--and therefore, which eliminates their chances at Triple Crown glory--IS broken.

To many, female horses are an afterthought. I've head some folks express that they should go straight into the broodmare barn, with no stop at the track. Seeing so many exceptional f!llies and mares taking the field--and the Eclipse Awards--may make some old-timers (and those influenced by them) say, "Whoa!"

(I must note here that obviously not everyone, or everyone who's male, in horse racing in the US is biased against female horses. That would be an illogical argument, and obviously, a ridiculous overgeneralization. Many wonderful men in the sport are enlightened--it just happens that they don't run the Derby. Great, wise men like Hall of Fame Trainer, LeRoy Jolley, certainly knows that a f!lly can win the Derby: he took Genuine Risk into the Churchill winner's circle in 1980. Mr. Jolley knows and respects the power of women in racing. Surely, not everyone who's been around the sport for a long time has outmoded attitudes.)

But for many others, things are moving too fast for comfort. But progress isn't progress unless we're running forward, not backward.

After all, this is the 21st Century, isn't it? Interesting, because the proverbial Powers that Be at Churchill Downs and the Kentucky Derby administration are stuck somewhere in--well, I can't say that they're stuck in the 19th Century. The 19th Century produced some great fillies and mares who won against males as a matter of course. Their owners didn't see anything odd or "freakish" about putting their girls up against a field of boys.**

That's just how those intelligent Europeans do it.

And, for the record: in virtually every other country in the world, females race against males. Those who race both Arabians and Thoroughbreds regularly enter their f!llies and mares against colts. I could start ticking off the names of the countries, but the list is exhaustive. Suffice it to say that in Sweden, Oman, the UK, the UAE, France, Australia...well, you get the drift. The US is out of sync with the rest of the horse racing world, on so many points.

Pervading Attitudes vs. Scientific Fact.

Certainly, the powers at Churchill aren't the only ones in American racing who are stuck somewhere in a chauvinistic land, far, far away. Across-the-board, many people still think that female horses are weaker, less-capable and not as fast as males...or at least, potentially not so. Rock star horses like Zenyatta, Rachel Alexandra and Havre de Grace--aren't seen as being the potential for f!llies--they're called, "freaks."

The problem with the negative attitude--that females just aren't as big or strong as males--is that it's scientifically incorrect. I've been told several times by (male) turf writers that they've seen the evidence with their own eyes--that by-and-large, females aren't... well... physically as capable as males, or as big. An authority (turf writer) has witnessed f!llies' inferiority--so it has to be true.

The only real physiological difference between the two genders is that the f!llies are packin' lady bits.

You see, the problem with this unscientific conclusion of inferiority is that it's just not based on reality. The lie has been shattered by an actual scientist who intentionally studied male and female horses, precisely to determine IF there's a physical difference between the two genders--a difference that would account for differences in racing speed, etc.

Dr. Pauline Entin, Ph.D., is a Physiologist at Northern Arizona University. She conducted an extensive scientific study of both racing Greyhounds and Thoroughbreds, to define the physiological differences between dogs (predators) and horses (prey)--and the prevailing human attitudes toward the males and females of the species being studied.

Her paper was presented in 2008. One of her conclusions in the fascinating document was that there is a negligible 1.2% difference in lung capacity and muscle mass--physiological measurements--between female horses and male horses.

(In humans, the accepted physiological difference is 10%.)

Another conclusion was that negative human attitudes carry more weight in determining a female horse's racing destiny than her physiology. A long-held tradition of negative human attitudes creates a human culture of oppression.

Whoopsie.

When cold, hard fact comes up against long-held, incorrect attitudes--those holding the incorrect information often buck. You know the expression, "Don't confuse me with facts--I've made up my mind!"

The Power of Language.

As a writer--and many of you reading this are professional communicators--I/you/we know the power of language.

Language can start a war--and end it..

Language can woo, comfort, convince or control.

Language can--and does--determine many rituals, traditions and misconceptions, for generations.

Being a "tradition" doesn't turn a belief system into a sacred, untouchable concept. Cannibalism is a tradition in some cultures, but not everyone involved in the transaction benefits thereby.

And one of the traditions of American horse racing is that f!llies aren't as good, really, as males. It may not be spoken out loud every day by every person who believes it--but it shows itself in myriad ways.

The fact that no f!lly races were put into the points system for the Derby is evidence that I'm not imaging it: this belief is real.

Those female horses who prove themselves over and over again are considered to be freakish. (Note: great human females have often been disparaged, in an effort to control them: the word, Virago, was the word used in the Middle Ages. A Virago was a woman who was educated, intelligent, creative, strong, powerful. Being called a Virago indicated that a woman was "almost as good as a man." But not quite.

The word was intended as an insult, but Viragae like Saint Catherine of Siena and Mechtilde of Magdeberg claimed the word--called themselves Viragae--and thereby took the authority out of the hands of the males who'd used the word in a failed attempt to hold them back.)

So, since being a f!lly seems to be a bad thing, let's look at the word.

"f!lly" is just a word. In and of itself, it has no power or meaning other than "young female horse."

This five-letter word has caused many a young female Thoroughbred not to be taken seriously.

But because of the cultural bias that's attached itself to the word, the word sounds cutesie, doesn't it? You almost have to say it with your voice in a higher register, and fast. (Think of yourself as being a Valley Girl, and say it: "Filly!")

A week before the Kentucky Oaks, I heard a handicapper say that he hadn't even looked at the field, because...well, he sort-of mumbled because his words indicated that...it's a f!lly race.

And that, of course, meant that it wasn't very important.

Oh, OK, no problem.

The word has become synonymous with pink cartoon ponies and little girls who are being taught to speak always in higher registers--so that boys will like them.

It's all around us in popular culture: f!llies are cute, and no threat to anyone.

We're going to change this: the word's always been spelled, "filly." But the association with "no threat to anyone" is precisely why, 10 years ago I knew that I had to publish a magazine about women in horse racing, and call it, f!lly. The exclamation mark takes the place of the cute little letter, i, and gives it some punch. The logo on the magazine and in branding will be dark, metallic red, and not pink of ANY shade.

The physical word, itself, is evolving.

We who work on f!lly hope that the meaning of the word will evolve, as well, to imply that a f!lly is infinitely powerful, intelligent, capable, focused and strong.

By claiming the word that, by its historic use has indicated childlike sweetness, naivete and innocuousness--we are taking that word, and literally shaking and re-shaping it. As we work to introduce so many brilliant females--horses and humans alike--in the pages of f!lly Magazine, we hope to give new meaning to the word, and give it back to the world.

Still female, still feminine, still beautiful--but beauty tempered by brains, strength and authority. If we can change language, we can change attitudes. And maybe even level the playing field.

So, no Kentucky Derby--and therefore, no Triple Crown--in the cards for f!llies this year. But maybe by 2016, when Rachel Alexandra's f!lly is three...the word, f!lly, will have a new tradition of meaning, and the system, itself, will have evolved--and become fair for everyone.

A parting thought: does it occur to anyone else, that perhaps the real reason there's been no Triple Crown winner since 1978...is because of stale attitudes and unmerited prejudice? Just an idea.

References:

* Martha M. Boltz in "The Washington Times":

http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/sports-around/2013/may/2/fillies-are-not-allowed-run-kentucky-derby-2013/

** A primo example of 19th Century horses made of steel, highly regarded, regardless of gender: Kincsem (Hungarian for "My Treasure," or "My Precious"), a chestnut filly foaled in 1874, won 54 times--yes, you read that correctly--she won 54 races during her career. Her sire, Cambuscan, was owned by Queen Victoria and sold to Hungarian interests, who raced her all over Europe. She earned her way into national icon status. She trounced her competitors, without exception--male and female alike.

*** Dr. Pauline Entin:

Entin, P.L. Do racehorses and Greyhound dogs exhibit a gender difference in running speed? Equine and Comparative Exercise Physiology. 4(3/4): 135-140, 2008 Dr. Pauline Entin, Northern Arizona University

NYRA Gallops in the Right Direction: Eric Wing is in Da House.

2013-04-20T12:56:15Z

When Dan Silver left his post as Director of Communications & Media Relations at NYRA (New York Racing Association) last October, I was devastated.

I love Dan: over the years he'd become a valued colleague and trusted Friend--a *genuine*

Friend, the kind you count on your fingers. Dan was someone on whom I knew I could depend, a man of his word. His move to Penn National to take the job, Director of Racing Operations, was a great move for him, no doubt. Holding a Master's from the renowned University of Arizona Race Track Industry Program--Dan infused kindness and professionalism into his job at NYRA. I'm sure he's doing great guns for Penn. Communications is one of those departments that can be cold and harsh. Too many horse racing admins, in far-too many organizations, shut the doors to their offices, coming out only when someone "worthy" enters the suite.

Not Dan. Dan is approachable, intelligent and open, and always is true to his character, at work and outside his offices. I always smiled when I saw him, knowing that he respected me as a professional, and genuinely liked me as a person.

Doing business is so much easier when both parties set the tone for a relaxed relationship.

For this reason, my first thought when I read Dan's resignation press release was:

I cried.

My second response: "Ahhhhhhhhh...crap."

]]>

Dan's departure from NYRA left me with deep apprehension about the future of the organization, itself. You see, my fears grew first from experience: The wrong person in that job could provide great, big buckets of grief for those of us who need accurate information and good relationships with the communications office. Rather than working with the media to inform, educate and inspire the outside world--a great divide could be dug by the wrong person. Ashley, Charlotte and the troupe all are great--but if a jerk took over as their leader, Life could be miserable for them, and for everyone involved.

It was entirely possible that we, the media, faced the prospect of coming to fisticuffs at every turn with a communications director who made life difficult for us every chance s/he got. (Yes, of course that idea flies in the face of reason--and yes, you would think that cooperation is the name of the game. (But how many times have you called the "Customer Service" number of a utility? I rest my case.)

Of all offices that would suffer if a big, gigantic ego sat in the director's chair--Communications is that place.

Some people, as you know, are on power trips. They make life rough for you simply because they can.

Such a person in the role of Director of Communications & Media Relations at NYRA could spell Disaster, with a capital D, for the organization. The communications director of any organization is the voice and face of the company, and if the face is ugly, irascible, unapproachable and just plain mean--that is the picture of the soul of the company that comes across. . Even if it's not the truth.

Media people who are treated poorly let the whole world know about it. Not known for being magnanimous. It's our jobs--to write, broadcast, post, publish, podcast--information.

While good news travels like a snail, bad news moves like bacteria.

A lousy attitude coming from the top of the communications office gives media people ammo with which to shoot down the company.

So I was nervous. I was convinced that NYRA's new Board--the Board that features only ONE woman, FYI--that NYRA's Board would hire an idiot from Lexington Avenue in New York City. That they'd bring in a suit who knows how to sell shoes, but is clueless about horse racing.

You know, the stereotypical male, middle-aged, killer-marketing-strategist-at-Walgreens-but-never-has-seen-an-actual--HORSE kind of person. (The sort of person who absolutely begs to be the object of jokes. The kind I want to instruct, "Here, Bill...that's good...stand right there, behind the horse...")

Of course I'd hoped that they'd bring in a woman to fill this job. (It does make me happy, though, to report that NYRA has a higher-than-average number of women in administrative positions.. In the world of f!lly Magazine, that's absolutely f!llylicious.)

But the majority of those women were hired long before the new Board took over--and given the fact that only ONE woman serves on the new, hand-picked Board--well, I'm appropriately concerned about the new Board's attitude toward my gender, in general. Women in horse racing--and f!lly Magazine--need NYRA to "get" us, and to continue the good trend of women at the helm of a big chunk of their horse racing show.)

So it was with good reason that I had doubts about the next head honcho in the Communications office. If that person was difficult, or outright anti-women-in-racing...f!lly wouldn't be the only one suffering some damaging consequences.

So last wek, as I was starting to count down the days 'til Opening Day at Saratoga--and before that, to the Belmont--there arrived a press release from Ashley (Herriman), in the NYRA press office. The email's subject line read,

NYRA Names Eric Wing Director of Communications & Media Relations

I yelped, actually. My cat looked up--she thought I was speaking Dog. I yelped, then laughed out loud--a rush of positive thoughts swirled through my head, the most important being that All is well with NYRA.

I didn't even read the release--just the subject line. I called Eric and fairly screamed at him,

"Congratulations!"

Then I gushed something about how HAPPY I was that he'd been chosen for the job. How relieved that he wasn't an idiot--let me rephrase that--relieved that NYRA hadn't hired a marketing wonk who doesn't know a fetlock from a furlong.

No, no, NYRA had hired a professional who's an actual horseman AND a communicator--a wonderful writer in his own right.

For the record--and for those of you who don't know Eric Wing, some background:

He's coming to NYRA from his job at the NTRA (National Thoroughbred Racing Association), where he's served well as Senior Director of Media Relations since 1999. (Fourteen years in any job is an achievement in this economy--to work that long and not just take up space at your desk--actually to achieve stuff--is monumental.) While at the NTRA, Eric achieved, created and did. He took the job and grew it. The next person in that office will have some mighty big horse shoes to fill.

Prior to his position at NTRA, he was an Editor at the world famous Reader's Digest for 13 years. An actual editor, which indicates that he had to be a writer first. (Wow, 13 years at RD, then those years at NTRA--how the heck old IS he? He must be a vampire, because it seems that he's centuries older than he looks. I hate him.)

I digress.

And of course I'm delighted that Eric Wing is an Alumnus of Dartmouth. This is just a personal note. I like it that there's an Ivy League grad in the office--too many people outside racing assume that we all speak in "dese, dem and dose." An Ivy guy will be a refreshing surprise for many, those for whom incorrect stereotypes thrive--like filmmakers in Hollywood.

I'm also delighted that there's a Dartmouth man in the office because I graduated from Mount Holyoke. Mount Holyoke and Dartmouth are sister/brother schools, a straight line up Route 91 in the Pioneer Valley. We never met at MHC/DC parties--we never played Quarters together--never stole Harvard's mascot in a vodka-fueled moment of insanity--but still it's rather like having a brother in the house.

Honestly, I can't tell you when exactly Eric and I met, but I'd say that probably we've known each other since 2005. He's not a friend whom I'd call if my cat got sick--but still I consider him to be a friend in racing. (Horse racing is a big family--and those of you who know, know--but even so, there are degrees of relationships within that family.)

In the years since we met, I've observed that he tries always to accommodate. He's helped me myriad times, professionally and once--personally. Whether I needed information, insight or a photo of Alydar for the casket of dear friend who'd died--he always came through. He takes his job seriously, and gets what you need, whenever he can.

Yep, so I'm excited for him, truly. I know he'll excel--even when he wants to tear out his hair.

Trials always make us better.

I'm thrilled for those of us who strive in the media, not only to cover the news but to make it interesting and creative. Eric will be there to facilitate, and make our jobs easier.

And most of all, I'm happy for NYRA, who brought on a gentleman and a scholar. Wingman knows horses, he knows racing, he's emotionally involved with this sport. NYRA's relationship with the world will be in the hands of a man who's capable, intelligent and graceful.

With someone this well-rounded; thoroughly entrenched and passionately involved in the sport--this situation is a triple dead heat. We all win-win-win. Thank you, NYRA and congrats, Eric. See you at the rail.

Photo of Dan Silver courtesy of NYRA/Adam Coglianese.

Photo of Eric Wing courtesy of NTRA.

Gary Contessa for NYRA CEO--YES, a REAL Horseman at the Helm.

2013-04-12T17:19:35Z

I put this article under the category, Horse Sense because, really...this is a sensible, intelligent argument.

A couple of months ago, immediately after hearing that Ellen McClain was relinquishing the reins of NYRA, I sent an email to a NYRA Board member. In my letter I wrote a very compelling argument for NYRA hiring NOT a corporate wonk--NOT a marketing "genius" from Lexington Avenue, or banker.

And definitely NOT someone who has business chops, but who's never even seen a horse race. More often than not, racing organizations take on people they perceive as being business genii, but they neglect the screamingly obvious...the fact that horse racing is unlike any other sport in the world.

An MBA from Wharton is not important in this sport: an obsessive, passionate, insane-about-horses, heart for the animals and the sport--is the essential credential...

]]> I'm probably preaching to the choir when I tell you that passion is the most important credential for ANYone who works in this sport. Whether you're a groom, hotwalker or exercise rider who gets up at 4AM to work with the equine athletes--or you're a writer, publisher, photographer or administrator at a racetrack, you should be mad about the sport. Singularly-focused.

This is the sport that requires an obsessive love for the horses in our care; the history and heritage of this sport; the possibilities and the future of this, the most thrilling sport in the world.

Let's break this down--reasons why the folks--women and men, alike--who run horse racing should be actual FANS, first:

* Horse racing is a sport that involves horses. (That's obvious, I know, but stay with me here.)

* And horses, unlike any human--athlete, or otherwise--are naturally innocent-of-heart. They are loyal, trusting, intelligent. Unfortunately, they're also

* Prey animals. That means that, in the wild, they're on constant lookout for predators. Humans, on the other hand, are

* Predators. (How to tell the difference? The eyes of prey animals are on the sides of their heads--giving them a broader field-of-vision, to detect predators. Predators, on the other hand, have eyes on the front of their--our--heads.)

* When horses aren't in the wild--when they're owned by humans, whether on a farm or at a racetrack, we have a unique situation: prey animals living with, and therefore having to learn how to TRUST--predators. (If you think that humans aren't predators, and that horses have nothing to fear from us--think about the kill buyers who buy horses to sell for slaughter. And those who sell those horses to kill buyers. And those who run horse slaughter houses. And the politicians who roll over and show their bellies to the Ag Lobby. And the Ag Lobby. The list of those out to get horses--human predators--is almost endless.)

* Horses have no thumbs. If they did, they'd rule the world.

* This unfortunate biological fact means that horses who are owned by humans can only cross their imaginary fingers and hope for the best.

* Therefore, horses who are involved with racing aren't there because they signed up for the job--they race because they're biologically predisposed to run like mad (from predators)--because they're GREAT at it--and that talent is taken into the sport of racing.

* Ergo, every human who works at, for, by, near or who runs a racetrack--by all rights, should be a horse lover--worthy of the animals whom God has entrusted to them.

It is absolutely unacceptable--to me, to horse lovers, to race fans and to the horses, themselves--when horse racing administrators are indifferent. Some tracks around the US terrify me, because their administrative offices are led by people whose best credential was that they owned a bank. I shudder every time I read that on a track website.

The job of being a racing administrator isn't just that of a businessperson who juggles the books and staff.

The job of running a racing organization is that of Mommy or Daddy to every single horse on that track. Their jobs are to look out for the welfare of every horse, even while they're generating money, excitement and growing the sport.

I'm not an idiot: I'm not suggesting that the CEO of any racing organization has the time to walk the grounds on any given day and hand out mints and kisses to every horse there.

But they should see their jobs as that of overseer. As CEO, President or Board member, their job IS to make sure that every horse, every human on their tracks are as safe and secure as possible.

For without the horses, there IS no horse racing.

Without loving, passionate and compassionate administrators at the helm of horse racing--the sport is no more evolved than cock fighting. When the welfare of the animals isn't taken into consideration, the sport suffers.

God knows, racing has had way too much lousy PR in recent years, much of it deserved: trainers doping horses, selling them to kill buyers--the list of reasons goes on. I need not name names and point fingers here, because the outside world is quite willing to condemn us at every turn.

Even racing insiders have embellished small facts--twisted them into big lies--created stories based on half-truths--in the name of selling newspapers.

Racing doesn't need any more bad PR. It also doesn't need any more shoe salesmen at the helms of any racing authorities.

This is precisely why I emailed that NYRA Board member, two months ago. I wrote

him to advocate for a real horseman--someone who's been around horse racing since childhood--to take the reins of the world's most prestigious horse meet.

I asked, sincerely and with solid arguments on my side--that NYRA hire Trainer, Gary Contessa, as the new CEO.

Gary's been involved with horses forever--he loves horses, with his heart and soul. He's served as President and on the Board of The Exceller Fund for...well, forever.

Gary Contessa is the best-possible candidate for the job as the new CEO because he loves horses; loves the jockeys and other humans in the sport and knows the sport of horse racing, cold. He knows what kind of promotions and campaigns will fly--and which ones are just plain idiotic.

His knowledge came from decades of work at the track--on the track--and in his heart. This depth of knowledge--and its byproduct, Wisdom--comes from experience. No Madison Avenue banker can know horse racing like this--if for no other reason than that they're spending their 60-hour work-week, banking, not training horses at 4AM, seven days a week.

Contessa has spent his entire worklife working with horses, at racetracks. He's witnessed every quirk in the sport--seen people and horses come and go. He knows the politics, the people--and he knows how important this sport is to we, the fans.

The consummate horseman, Gary Contessa at the helm can only be good, all around: his kind demeanor, social talents--and the stuff in his brain, his intellectual gifts--cannot be learned, or replicated, by a businessperson who would need to play "catch-up" in order to do their jobs.

Gary Contessa as the new NYRA CEO can only benefit everyone, all around. The humans and the horses need a CEO with his accomplishments and street creds--and understanding--in their--in our--corner.

Whether you're a fan, a racing professional or a member of the NYRA Board--you need Gary Contessa in the CEO's office.

The future of horse racing in New York State depends on it. A businessperson with no experience in the sport will drive it into the ground, and further convince the outside world that we're just a bunch of mercenaries, out to rake in the cash at the expense of the horses and jockeys.

Horsepeople are horsepeople, first, businesspeople, second. The CEO of the organization that presents the world's greatest racing should be one of us, and I can think of no finer horseman--or human being, or soul--than Gary Contessa.

Photo credit: NYRA/Adam Coglianese

Insightful Q/A with Gary Contessa:

http://www.followhorseracing.com/en/the-latest/abr-notebook/april-11-2013/

The Dubai Kahayla Classic: the Horse Race Americans Won't Get to See on Dubai World Cup Day. :(

2013-03-30T01:51:36Z

You know, I don't write much or often about actual races--I'm not a turf writer, per se. My "beat," so to speak, seems to be the stuff that others don't deem to be very important.

My role in horse racing often is that of professional pot-stirrer. I'm just fine with that, because I think that writing about horses should be writing from the guts, from the soul of the person at the keyboard.

And when I see, read or hear of something that makes me want to beat someone--I turn instead to my weapon of choice: words.

So today I'm ranting about a beautiful horse. A magnificent horse, a Champion. A horse whose name you've probably never heard, if you're a fan of Thoroughbred racing. And, because American horse racing media seems to be tunnel-visioned--or perhaps just plain bigoted, or stupid--you won't get to see him race on Dubai World Cup Day, either.

The horse is named, TM Fred Texas. He's regally-bred: sired by the outstanding Burning Sand, out of the Kong mare, Queen Kong. He's light grey--almost white, dare I write--beautiful, and runs like his life depends on it.

Fred has won at Churchill Downs, Pimlico (on Preakness Day), Del Park--oh, yes--and at Meydan. This horse has earned his way into every venue where he's kicked equine butt. Tomorrow (March 30, 2013), he'll be at Meydan again, to defend his title: last year he won the Dubai Kahayla Classic.

But if you're an American horse racing fan, you won't get to see him take on the field.

Oh, did I neglect to mention? The reason why you won't see him is that TM Fred Texas is a Purebred Arabian horse...

]]> ...and for some reason that I cannot fathom, American racing still has a snob thing going on about Arabian horses.

The fact that he's raced and won at Churchill, Del Park, Pimlico and Meydan doesn't sway American horse racing media. For example, just try to find him on DRF.com, in their Entries for Meydan tomorrow--Dubai World Cup Day.

You won't find him, because DRF's entries for Meydan tomorrow begin with Race 2. Huh? What happened to Race 1? Oh, yes--that's the Dubai Kahayla Classic--a race of Arabians. God forbid.

And yet. And yet this beautiful, strong, historic horse is a king among his breed. A prime example of the joy, majesty and history that comes packed into the DNA of every racing Purebred Arabian on the Earth.

So why, American media, don't you start Dubai World Cup Day coverage with RACE ONE??? Why not give horse racing fans a chance to see The Original Race Horse--the Arabian--racing in their own native turf?

The Dubai Kahayla Classic is the equivalent of the Dubai World Cup for Purebred Arabian horses.

Maybe we need to start this lesson slowly: you know, Arabians--the foundation sires of every Thoroughbred who walks this Earth?

Darley, Godolphin, Byerly?

Ring a bell?

Without Arabians, there'd be no Thoroughbreds.

Arabian racing is magnificent, heart-stopping, historic--and utterly ignored by American horse racing media. I'm confused, disgusted--and have to ask why the bigotry? And, oh, please--do not give me that, "They're not as fast as Thoroughbreds" nonsense.

Nothing on Earth is as fast as a Thoroughbred. (Except for Cheetahs, and we don't race them.)

The fact that Arabians aren't as fast as Thoroughbreds is inconsequential, unless you have some severe ADHD going on. A horse race that features gorgeous creatures running their hearts out--and on which you can bet--is really all most fans want to see.

Or maybe it's just that the turf writers and commentators feel overburdened, and the thought of learning about Arabians seems too big a task to add to their already-full plates. Oh, wah! I know several great turf writers who cover both Thoroughbred and harness racing. They leave Saratoga Race Course after the last race, and rush across Nelson Avenue to Saratoga Raceway. If they can learn about--and develop passion for--Standardbred racing, I'm pretty sure they can learn about the world's oldest extant breed.

If y''all want an in-service, I'm happy to oblige.

I think that American racing media and many unenlightened horse racing state commissions have decided that the American public doesn't want to see Arabians race. But it's not their place to decide for us. Bring on the Arabs, let 'em race. Let us bet on them, fall in love, join fan clubs, make t-shirts.

American race administrators and the media are always asking HOW to grow the sport? Over the years, some goofy and downright stupid ideas have sprung up. How about the inane idea of encouraging alcoholism in the infield on big race days? That's a solid idea. If anyone thinks for one minute that the partiers in the infield will bet on the horses that day--they're too blind-drunk to see, or even care that a race is happening--well, you're delusional. If you think that they'll come back to the track any other day, and become life-long fans--you're outright nuts.

I've got an idea: how about we bring more actual horse racing--Arabians--to every track in the country? Give the fans a new breed to get to know--on which to bet? Bring in more paid admissions, fresh blood and passionate horse lovers?

Educate the people, and help them understand the deep, abiding, genetic relationship between the Arabian and Thoroughbreds. People are smart enough to understand that the traits that the Arabian brought to the table: strength, stamina, loyalty, intelligence--are the very traits that Mr.s Godolphin, Darley and Byerly sought to breed into their new equine concoction.

So I ask again: Why aren't ALL the races on the card shown on Dubai World Cup day, for the American audience?

Realize, please, that the Dubai Kahayla Classic is important enough that the Dubai Racing Club features the race on their homepage. So why no press from the US? WAKE UP, American race fans, bettors, media and horse lovers.

Here's something to inspire you: the official ad for the 2012 Dubai World Cup. My friend, Fadi Izzaldin, is a genius. He has passion, vision and made an ad that's pure art. I can't watch this video without crying. Every time. It's powerful, colorful, spiritual and the music absolutely perfectly orchestrates every frame of this video.

And again--oh, yes--every horse in this ad--this ad for the Dubai World Cup--is a Purebred Arabian. Notice the gentle shape of their heads--their beautiful, otherworldly faces--the sweet musculature of their bodies. Note the pounding of hooves, and the power of that experience. Notice your blood pressure rising as the ad builds.

Note that the jockeys, astride these magnificent creatures suddenly become ancient Bedouin warriors in your mind and heart.

Watch this video--realize that the Dubai World Cup thought it important enough to feature Arabian horses--and then ask yourself why you, an American horse lover and fanatic for the sport--are denied the joy of watching them in Race 1 on Dubai World Cup Day.

Doesn't make sense, does it? Makes even less sense that you can't see them race--yet--at every horse track in America.

If my annoying badgering and obsessive writing can help make this happen--hopefully that dream will come true, soon. And hopefully the American racing media will join me in my insistence that the Arabian come full-circle and claim their rightful place in the hearts of racing fans.

Just as they've done for 5,000 years--first in the wind-swept deserts of their Middle East home--then in the hearts and minds of millions of others, all around the world.

America has a little catching-up to do.

Dubai Racing Club 2013 homepage, TM Fred Texas:

http://www.dubaiworldcup.com/news/international-raider-tm-fred-texas-looks-second-consecutive-kahayla-classicDubai

Dubai World Cup 2012 video, Fadi Izzaldin:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YAqD5_WH7wo

Photo of TM Fred Texas: courtesy, Pimlico Race Course.

Whoa, Nelly! Black Caviar as the Archetype of the Strong, Capable Female

2013-03-25T19:24:36Z

By now, every horse racing fan on Earth has heard of Black Caviar--the uber-horse from Australia who's won 24 races in a row, as of today. (25 March 2013) This record has not been equaled in over 100 years of Thoroughbred racing.

But her race record is not the most remarkable property of the great mare. No, the thing that strikes me most strongly is that Nelly, as she's affectionately called in her barn and by those of us who love her--so strongly arouses many strong emotions.

Not unlike human females who strive to gain a foothold in the world of horse racing.

]]> Now, the irony as I see it is this: Black Caviar has scores of fans--millions, perhaps. Countless admirers, all over this blue marble of a planet. The big, strapping (16.2 hands/ approx. 5/8" at the withers), dark horse won her respect, one race at a time.

And the problem as I see it is that--for whatever reason--Nelly is spoken of as being a freak.

I hate that word.

I've always hated it.

I know that it's common lingo in horse racing--that there have been horses throughout the course of history who've done things that are so spectacular, so above-and-beyond--that the only word that seems to say it is, freak.

But as a writer, I must remind you that language is destiny. That's how social control and the status quo are maintained, isn't it? To state that a word "always has been used" is the same as saying, "It's always been done that way," or "Well, why would women want to be on the Board?"

The fact that a word or phrase has "always" been used to describe someone is not an excuse.

Cannibalism has always been a practice in some cultures, but not everyone involved in the transaction benefits therefrom.

The use of this word to describe an animal whose talents are otherworldly--heavenly--absolutely superior--speaks more of a lack of imagination on the part of the writer or speaker than it does of the horse, herself. Any human who can witness an animal whose very presence implies the presence of Greatness, itself--and to reduce that attribute to the lowly status of freak--says more in the utterance of that word--bout themselves--than they say about the horse.

But this has always been the way of the world: to diminish something that we can neither grasp nor achieve, ourselves--is a very human trait. Call if sour grapes: even if we admire the over-achiever like Black Caviar--that part of us that knows that we'll never be extraordinary, ourselves, must qualify the compliment by utilizing a word that draws into question the achievement and the achiever.

It's the Tall Poppy Syndrome--a term originated in Oz, itself. When we see a poppy that's taller and more grand than the rest in the field, that poppy must be mowed down so that the rest of us (the other poppies) don't seem to be short and less-grand.

The Tall Poppy Syndrome. It's held back a lot of females over the years. Black Caviar is merely the most recent outstanding woman in horse racing who's been slapped back down into her "rightful place" by a designation such as freak.

One of the contributing factors to Black Caviar's wild success is the human culture into which she was born, and in which she thrives. Remember, Oz is the same continent that gave Makybe Diva to the world, with no apologies. The rest of the world outside the United States seems to be much more egalitarian regarding female horses. It's here in the U.S. where the 19th Century is lived and re-lived, from board rooms to starting gates.

Black Caviar is big, hulking, strong, dominant, fierce--and she chews up the ground beneath her hooves. If you've never watched her race, you've missed out on one of the most soul-stirring experiences, ever. Her front hooves consume the ground before her: she will not be controlled by Mother Earth.

She is of the Earth, but not bound by it.

Black Caviar is the archetype--the very spiritual embodiment--of the strong, capable female of any species. It never occurs to her that perhaps she "shouldn't" do something--because, perhaps, it's not "ladylike," or "becoming."

She does what she does because she does it.

The more I research the roles of human women in horse racing, the more I see the need for the Spirit of Nelly to take over. Yes, there are a ton of women on the track--in Saratoga, at least, the majority of exercise riders are females. There are several women jockeys out there now, but most of them still are treated pretty badly by some trainers and other jocks. Plenty of female grooms and hotwalkers out there. Several wealthy women who are owners, who thereby call the shots.

But let's look at the Board rooms. Has no one noticed that, a few months ago when Andrew Cuomo named the restructured NYRA Board--only one female was named to the Board? I don't know about your math skills, but one out of 13 or 17 is not 51%, by any stretch of the imagination.

We're the majority of the fan base, we're the majority of faces walking the Earth--and yet only one female sits on the NYRA Board? In 2013?

Hello, Mr. Cuomo? It's 1863. They want their misogyny back.

My theory is that, Mr. Cuomo could not have given us the majority stake ("us" being, women)--as is our rightful place. Simply put, I speculate that he was afraid that we'd take over horse racing. That we'd run NYRA better than he could ever envision--and that would mess with his 19th Century, Old World thinking. (I'm Italian, I'm allowed to write that.)

Lest you think that I'm done ranting--I'm not. It's not just the Board rooms that need to reflect the true picture of the horse racing community, by any means.

When's the last time you looked at the masthead of your favorite horse racing magazine or newspaper? I don't mean the Pony Club newsletters online, or the We Love Horsies groups on Facebook. I mean the hard-core, horse racing periodicals for which people pay--paper editions and online, as well.

The next time you pick up your fave racing publication, please read the masthead. Tell me how many females are publishers of those magazines and newspapers. There may be one, but certainly not 51% of the publishers are females.

I'm just sayin'.

But if paper horse racing media is myopic regarding women in high places--then the broadcast media (television, radio) are actually blind. Today, 13 years into the 21st Century, the only females we see on racing TV are young-ish, "feminine" and, well, hot.

Not a lot of middle-aged women who wear size 18 grace your TV screens, unless they're waitresses in the background in a track clubhouse. And yet, how many short, fat, bald, ill-dressed male commentators have primo jobs? (As I've always said: he men who have the nerve to tell me that I should look like Cindy Crawford...all look like Danny DeVito.)

The young, hot female commentators may very well know their stuff--but the fact is that they're a concession to the outdated myth, that women are merely decorations on top of the cake. Frosting. Pretty to look at. Why do women have to be young and pretty, yet men can be old, nasty-looking and obnoxious?

It's the same double standard that encourages race fans to utter the word, freak, even while admiring the enormous achievements of Black Caviar.

If she was a he, no one would be amazed by her prowess.

Horse racing radio is just as guilty as TV. I can think of perhaps two females who are on racing radio--but I cannot think of a single female who hosts her own horse racing radio show--either news or Op/Ed. (If I'm incorrect, I really do want to know--so please drop me a line, and tell me all about her.)

It's impossible to give any serious consideration to the ridiculous notion that women can't or just don't know as much as males, about horse racing. If women can get Ph.D.s in Electrical Engineering and Astronomy--we can learn to read a Racing Form, and to form opinions about horses and the sport.

So the reason for the glaring lack of women in horse racing radio is really very simple: sexism lives. Those who have the power to hire women as hosts of shows--don't.

Writing from personal experience, I have a killer voice and am very comfortable in a radio studio. Several dialogues have taken place to date, but, ah, nope, no one yet has realized that this killer voice should be massaging the airwaves and dispensing racing news, opinion and interviews. It amazes me to think that, IF and when I find a producer for my show--it will be the first in America, ever. (Again, unless I am dead-wrong--in which case, I really want to know because I'd love to meet these women who are doin' it.)

But, like Black Caviar--we women who know racing, cold, are thought to be freaks. Instead of looking at the 51% of paid admissions at race tracks, and realizing, Wow, that's a reflection of the 51% of the population--the American horse racing media continue to overlook us. Are they afraid of what may happen if smart women are at the mic, or in the publisher's office? What if we're sitting at the head of the Boardroom table?

Like Black Caviar, we're not content just to know that we're good, and smart, and capable. We want to run. Nelly leads the way, showing us how to inhale the very ground beneath our feet. Every time she crosses that line first, she has millions of others riding on her back. Like the Big Horses before her--who happen to be packin' female parts--like Rachel Alexandra, Zenyatta, Makybe Diva, Azeri, Ta Wee, Busher, Winter Memories, Zo Impressive, Questing, Rags to Riches and Genuine Risk (to name a few)--a filly or mare takes the hearts, souls and hopes of millions into the winner's circle. We females are all about cooperation, not domination--and when one of us wins, we all win.

Come on, American racing: acknowledge that Black Caviar is The Best. Omit that derogatory noun, freak. Now, once you've practiced that a few times--hire intelligent, savvy women as publishers, TV commentators and radio show hosts. Bring us into the Boardrooms of racing (and other, related) organizations. Start referring to us as, "Our Publisher" and "The host of our show."

The minute you forget the word, freak, you'll also forget to describe human female professionals using cutesie adjectives.

No one refers to Bob Dotson as "The adorable Bob Dotson," or "The sassy Dotson..." No, Mr. Dotson is an accomplished, seasoned professional. No one would insult him by describing his physical attributes when talking about his career. So why do professionals--who should know better--ever mention, even in passing--how good Diane Sawyer looks?

As long as we allow language to gently hold women down by doing it as it's always been done, we perpetuate a system that's holding back 51% of the talent out there. Fifty-one percent of the potential to grow the sport by including everyone in the game, in every aspect, across-the-board.

Black Caviar is not a freak, and I am not cute.

We are professionals in horse racing.

Period.

So God Made a Horse: Please Pray for Rachel Alexandra.

2013-02-14T13:40:45Z

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, a day in the lives of many Christians when we go to church to have ashes put on our foreheads, as a priest reminds us that we came from dust, and to dust we shall return.

Sounds like a rockin' good time, yes? Well, to make that somber reminder even more so, Ash Wednesday kicks off 40 days of repentance and introspection. This period, known as Lent, is the time when we Christians are supposed to spend more time with God than usual. To think about what we've done, and what we wish we hadn't done.

To repent when we need, and from that time of introspection--to arrive 40 days later at Easter, feeling spiritually and emotionally refreshed. I know that most of you reading this can relate to a similar ritual: for my Muslim friends, Ramadan is a long period of deep inner reflection, and spending time one-on-one with God.

During Lent it's traditional to give up something--to "sacrifice" something for the 40 days of the season. Most people give up something like chocolate or coffee--and many of those do so with great flair, going on and on and on to anyone who'll listen, about the fact that they'd KILL for a Hershey Bar.

But giving up my favorite chocolates isn't going to make me a better soul, or help grow my relationship with God. No, in order to do that, I find that I need to give up something that I hold dear. Something that, if it was out of my Life, altogether, actually would draw me closer to God.

Every year I alternate between two things: I give up either Doubt or Fear, because those are things that separate me from living fully, or of knowing God as fully as I can while I'm here on this earthly plane. No Hershey Bar in the world, by its absence, can help make me a better spirit.

Every year on Lent, I give up one of those two things, and you can be assured that almost immediately--something will happen to challenge my ability to truly deny myself the self-indulgence of doubting, or fearing.

So I'm sure that it won't surprise any of you when I tell you that, it figures, that, on Ash Wednesday evening--this year I gave up Doubt--my faith would be challenged as I found out that a being I treasure is sick, and (we don't know?) perhaps dying...

]]> Rachel Alexandra, a horse who touches my heart more than I can tell you, a horse with whom I had intimate interaction, is sick, my friends.

She had a beautiful baby girl--a treasure, with a heart-shaped star on her forehead-- on the 12th, and by last night, Rachel had experienced a complication and subsequent surgery at Rood & Riddle in Lexington, Kentucky.

When I read this news, I exploded into tears of pain and "No, no, NO!!!" I love this beautiful, magnificent Horse of the Year more than you can imagine. One of the sweetest memories of my entire life took place in 2009, the day she won the Woodward in Saratoga. My left shoulder--which my girl, Karen, beat as she pulled my ponytail, screaming into my now-deaf left ear--never will be the same. We were in the backstretch at Saratoga, and saw Rachel destroy the field--again--and our hearts rode on her strong, sturdy back, back to the winner's circle. From there, together, we all took flight to the moon, and beyond.

As I write this, I have no idea how the wonderful Queen is doing. I haven't seen or heard any updates, which upsets me. I'm sure that the lack of information is upsetting a lot of you, as well. (We must try to understand, however, how it must be to own her--and to be completely centered on being with her. Barbara Banke's first priority is to be with her horse, not to report to a gaggle of fans and journalists.)

The sole purpose of this posting is to let you know that Rachel Alexandra--America's Big Horse, Horse of the Year for 2009--is sick, and needs your prayers. Wherever you are in the world--fan or not--Rachel needs you. Yes, she's America's Horse, but all horses are the concern of anyone who loves the species.

Today is Valentine's Day--a day that traditionally finds me at my cynical best. But today I ask you to think about the concept of Love, and to send all your Love to Rachel. To pray with all your heart--your real heart, not the Hallmark heart-shaped cards that you'll give your husband, wife, lover, friend, secret love.

The presence of your real, spiritual heart is requested on this day, to benefit a horse who shared her own heart, soul, guts and glory with millions of us. A horse who, during her racing career, gave her all, over and over again. A horse who inspired gigantic men--and tiny little girls--to cry, to laugh, to have faith.

I invite you to join me in a real Lent, a real Valentine's Day...whatever your faith or non-faith, I invite you to spend at least today with me, looking within.

Now, take that inner search and turn it into the practice of genuine Love. (Yes, Love is a VERB, not a NOUN. It's something you DO, not something you experience.)

Take that feeling of genuine Love, and turn it into prayer.

Pray for Rachel Alexandra. Pray for her tiny little newborn girl. Pray for Barbara Banke and everyone at Stonestreet.

I believe that God is in the business of resurrection. I must believe this today, for Rachel Alexandra, and aim my prayers with that intention.

Sans further ado, I'm going to steal Paul Harvey's "So God Made a Farmer" speech--at least borrow the same concept--and tweak it. Those of us who love horses, racing and Rachel may see our beautiful heroine somewhere in these lines that came to me this morning. God bless you all, and thank you for taking time from your day to be with Rachel Alexandra in spirit, and in love.

God said,

"I need an animal who's strong, and can help humans get the hard work done."

So God made a horse.

And God said,

"I need an animal who's also wonderful to behold, and reminds humans of the beauty of My Heaven, itself."

So God made a horse.

Then, God said,

"I want to make an animal who's gentle of heart, to remind humans of their own gentleness within. An animal who's so innocent, kind and accepting of humans and their frailties that these attributes, also, remind people of My own mercy, kindness and acceptance."

So God made a horse.

The picture wasn't quite complete. So God said,

"I'd like to create an animal who's very large, and yet very childlike. An animal whose instincts tell it to flee danger--yet who somehow convinces itself to trust humans who are good to them, and to form bonds and relationships."

So God made a horse.

Then God realized that other attributes were necessary in order to make this most-perfect of creations. And God said,

"I need an animal who can run faster than the wind--a creature who reminds human hearts of the cosmos, itself, when she runs. An animal who creates thunder and earthquakes when she pounds past observing people. An animal whose very presence brings mere mortals to tears, and to joy and to the entire range of emotions that I gave them."

So God made a horse.

"Just one more thing," said God, "I want to create one particular horse who challenges cultural biases--who never backs down from a challenge--whose human owner is endowed with exceptional love for her, who always looks out for her best during her career as a working girl. I need a horse who embodies the best of My beauty, strength, speed, power--and who makes even unbelievers wonder if perhaps I do exist."

So God made Rachel Alexandra. And God saw that this was good.

National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame Celebrates Black History Month, and You're Invited.

2013-02-05T22:45:44Z

February is Black History Month here in the United States, and no other industry owes such a great debt of gratitude to the contributions of African-Americans than horse racing. On February 12th, the National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame in Saratoga Springs, New York, will present a program that should be of interest to everyone who loves our sport...]]> African-Americans have played a major role in the development and growth of horse racing in the United States. Yet, until recently, many African-Americans have felt disenfranchised from the sport that could not have grown without the participation of their ancestors.

On Tuesday, February 12th, 2013, the Racing Museum in Saratoga will present a program that should capture the hearts and imaginations of every person who loves horse racing--for the history of African-Americans in racing is our shared history, as well. From 1PM 'til 3PM, our minds will be opened, our hearts warmed, as we learn things about some wonderful people who may have seemed like asterisks in the history books.

The contributions of our African-American colleagues must be learned, understood, and honoured, in order for our sport to be whole. For too long, horse racing has seemed to many Americans to be a sport that's open only to old, White men. Women and minorities may have felt that they (we, for I'm a woman)--are somehow not welcome. Not welcome as active participants, even as fans.

This is not the case: all people are welcome in horse racing, if for no other reason than the fact that horses see no colors or genders--they see only hearts who love them, people who want to know them. Our equine athletes recognize only the gentle touch of a human: whether that human is Black, White, Asian, Middle Eastern, Native American--doesn't matter to the horse, anymore than they care if the love comes from a woman or a man.

The history of horse racing in America is very much the history of African-Americans in sport: it's fitting that this program should be presented in 2013, the same year that we celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Saratoga Race Course--America's oldest race track, the oldest sporting venue of any kind in the United States.

The program that will be presented on Tuesday at the Racing Museum will achieve so much for the forward-growth of our sport here in the U.S. We must learn from our history, and, having learned--move into the 21st Century with a renewed sense of shared purpose and passion for the horses and the sport. I believe--I know--that this program has the potential to achieve more in one day toward growing the fanbase and professional participation of horse racing than all the special events at all the race tracks in America in 2013.

If on February 12th you can get to the National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame in Saratoga Springs--Union Avenue, right across from Saratoga Race Course--you should make a point so to do. Make a day of it: enjoy the program from 1PM-3PM, and dine in Saratoga before or after. Come away from your day in Saratoga with a renewed passion for horses and horse racing--and join those of us who strive to fully integrate this sport, this passion, this obsession, this sport that knows no boundaries.

The only true borders in horse racing are those that are artificially-created, by humans. And we in the sport are doing our best every day to tear down those walls. Thank you for loving horses and racing, and for joining this joyous celebration of our African-American colleagues, to whom we owe so, so much.

The official press release from the Museum, and contact info, reads thus:

SARATOGA SPRINGS -- The National Museum of Racing and Hall of Fame will present a special program entitled "African-Americans in Thoroughbred Racing" to celebrate Black History Month on Tuesday, Feb. 12 from 1 to 3 p.m. at the Museum. The program is free and open to the public.

The program will begin with a guided tour of the Museum that will highlight the history and significant contributions to the sport of Thoroughbred racing by African-Americans. Karen Wheaton, the Museum's education curator, will lead the tour.

The tour will be followed by a presentation and discussion in the Hall of Fame gallery about the African-American jockeys and trainers who are enshrined in the Museum's Hall of Fame. The Hall of Fame discussion will be led by Allan Carter, the Museum's historian, and Jim Melia, a research assistant at the Museum.

Contact Karen Wheaton at (518) 584-0400 ext. 118 for additional details.

Check our Web site at http://www.racingmuseum.org

American Friends of The Brooke: an Opportunity to Turn Good Intentions into Action.

2013-01-28T16:16:14Z

Dear readers,

I'm weeping as I write this. I mean, I'm crying my guts out. This is not an easy piece for me to pen, because I'm so affected by the pictures and stories to which I've been exposed recently. Stories that make me uncomfortable.

Stories about the world's poorest people, and their working equines.

Donkeys, mules and horses the world over are absolutely necessary for Life, itself, in places where the people are so poor that family members often have to take turns eating dinner because there's not enough food for everyone to eat, every night.

The working equines in the lives of these dear souls are not for show.

These equines never will win a blue ribbon; cross a finish line or take home a gold medal. If they're lucky, these equines MAY get something to eat on Wednesday...

]]> Judge Not, Lest You be Judged.

LEST you judge or condemn the owners of these equines for not feeding or caring properly for the horses, donkeys and mules in their charge--let's step back for a minute.

Picture this: you're not you. If you can even begin to wrap your head around this concept, spend a few minutes with your eyes closed. Allow yourself to be transported into a different body. You're a different person, in a country not your own.

You're not living well--eating whatever you want, whenever you feel the urge.

Lobster is not on the menu.

Tonight.

Ever.

If you eat today at all, you'll consider that to be a blessing. You're not earning a decent living and enjoying yourself in the United States, Canada, Europe, the UAE, Australia, Japan or any of the world's other regions where being-middle-class-ain't-so-bad.

You're not even living merely badly: "living large" isn't even a concept.

You're not a doctor, lawyer, or race horse owner. You don't drive a Mercedes, or live in a McMansion. You own an equine, but she's in your life because you need her--not because you simply enjoy her company, or she provides pride when she wins the race; takes the gold or chalks up another blue ribbon.

Your horse isn't spit-polished, with hooves that sport the best aluminum shoes. She has no

shoes, at all. She's not groomed, with neatly-trimmed mane.

Your donkey, horse or mule is a working girl, and working girls don't spa at Canyon Ranch.

No, you're not rich or nouveau rich--or even middle-class. You, my friend, suddenly find yourself so poor that you don't know whence will come your next meal--if at all--but you have a donkey, mule or a horse.

And that animal can help you earn some money, or grow some food, so that you can feed yourself--and maybe even your family. You may be able to buy some material to make clothes, or build a hut, with the money that you earn from hauling bricks, or straw--or tilling the dry Earth, or working for someone with your equine.

But even as you and your equine friend work together--sowing rows of seeds, building huts or doing errands--every day you pray that your best pal doesn't drop dead.

(Dropping dead is usually the fate of an animal that's overworked and malnourished. Dropping dead at least will send the soul of your equine companion to Heaven, for the rest and refreshment she deserves.)

You Want to be a Good Owner.

You don't want your good friend and co-worker to die in her tracks: you want, very much, to be a good caretaker of this animal whom God has given to you. You want to be an informed, caring owner.

In order to be a good owner--and thereby assure that your working equine is as healthy as can be (and help you earn the money, to become as healthy as you can be--see, it's the Circle of Life)--you need the help of someone who can step in and provide veterinary care; nutrition and health-related grooming to your dear horse, donkey or mule.

You need the Brooke.

The Brooke is a philanthropic organization founded in 1930 and named for one wonderful Scottish woman, Dorothy Brooke, whose empathy and heart for animals started a revolution--a revolution in the way that equines are viewed, and treated You see, Dorothy's 1930 arrival in her adopted home of Cairo opened her eyes to the plight of abandoned war horses.

(We horse-loving Americans are enamoured of the book, War Horse, and many people made boodles of cash on a stage play and film of the same title. But the horrible Truth behind the glitter of Broadway and Hollywood is that war horses more-often-than-not were just left whenever soldiers pulled out--left to their own devices, to forage for food and become dinner for predators.)

Dorothy Brooke saw these abandoned horses in Cairo, and immediately her heart was opened to the realization of her own Life's Mission: to save the lives of equines like these. And so the Brooke was born, and its mission and vision as stated on their 'site, http://www.thebrooke.org (italics):

Our mission and vision

The Brooke is determined to do whatever it takes to ensure that the right elements are in place for working horses, donkeys and mules to be healthy and happy in the long-term.

Our mission

The Brooke works directly and through partners to do whatever will most improve the welfare* of working horses, donkeys and mules through the alleviation of existing suffering and the development of equine welfare practices and facilities to prevent and reduce suffering in the future.

Our vision

The Brooke's vision is of a world in which working horses, donkeys and mules are free from suffering.

The Brooke delivers practical programmes and provides support, advice, funding and infrastructure to its global network of employees, partners and supporters to make that vision a reality.

Many good people come together to assure that the Brooke fulfills its mission. in 2012, The Brooke aided approximately 1.1 million animals, who in turn benefited six million people. Over 800 staff of the Brooke are around the world, even as I write this, helping these very working equines. These are the horses, donkeys and mules who would share your Life, if indeed our previously-discussed scenario played out. (You, poor and disenfranchised.)]

Eight-hundred staffers, all of whom have a heart for working equines, who give their all, 365, to help the animals and--by extension--the humans in their lives.

Now, when most Americans--and many others around the world--think of the Royal Family of the United Kingdom--we think about polo. And horse racing. Royal Ascot, wild hats and full champagne glasses. But if we read at all, (and are capable of separating our long-held myths from reality) we realize that the Royal Family has a long-standing tradition of philanthropy and extraordinary love for animals.

Horses and other equines are at the top of that list of animals who stir that emotional trigger for the Royals.

So it's a natural, that HRH (Her Royal Highness) the Duchess of Cornwall--Camilla-

would be President of the Brooke, and thereby lend her name, her energy and attention to such a worthy cause. She currently is serving her second term as President, and embraces her work for the organization and the world's working equines with passion, enthusiasm and deep love for the equines and their humans who benefit from the Brooke's labors of love. Her Royal Highness stated recently:

"Having seen for myself the wonderful work the Brooke does in their clinic in Cairo and Pakistan to help the suffering of working animals, it makes me incredibly proud to be the President of this unique charity and to follow its course with enormous interest.

Over the next few years the Brooke will be expanding into new countries, to bring it closer to achieving its goal of improving the welfare of two million animals each year.

This is a hugely important step and I wish the Brooke and its teams of dedicated staff, working in the field, every possible success with this objective."

Her Royal Highness could not have chosen a more fitting (or worthy) organization with which to cast her heart and her energies, for

It is estimated that 50 million working animals are suffering from exhaustion, dehydration, malnutrition, and abuse as a result of excessive workloads and limited animal health services in developing countries. They endure grueling, back-breaking labor under the harshest of physical and environmental conditions, on behalf of the working poor, whose very lives are inextricably tied to them in order to earn a living and support their families. These animals are a lifeline to countless poor communities. (website citation)

The Brooke currently has a presence in Egypt, India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Kenya, Ethiopia, Nepal, Senegal, Jordan, and Guatemala.

Another royal I'd like to mention here--because she's someone I love and deeply respect--is Her Royal Highness Princess Alia Bint Al Hussein of Jordan. Princess Alia, daughter of the late, truly great King Hussein and namesake of the Princess Alia Foundation, has served as a Patron of The Brooke since 1988. She is one of the kindest hearts in the world, with an extraordinary capacity for sympathy and empathy for animals and humans. Her work over the past decades on behalf of horses, wild animals and humans in need is renowned. It should not have surprised me at all to read The Brooke's website and see that she is a Patron. The website reads thus about her work there:

...Since that time, the Brooke has seen a significant improvement in the welfare of working equine animals in Petra Park. She continues to play a vital role in supporting our work to ensure local veterinary care is available for horses and donkeys in Petra and good welfare is maintained.

It makes complete sense to me that two such gracious women would work together to benefit the world's working equines and the humans who love and need them.

American Friends of The Brooke: Awareness, Partnership, Support.

One of the the Brooke's noble goals is to double that number of 1.1 million equines helped, by 2016. To do this, the Brooke has extended its outreach into North America for awareness, partnership and support by the creation of American Friends of the Brooke, a 501(c)3 charitable organization, is poised to generate that support.

In early January, 2013, it was announced that Lexington, Kentucky, had been chosen by The Brooke as their American headquarters. The presence of an international organization with such close ties to the British Royal Family, further emphasizes the spirit of cooperation and common values shared--values that know no nationality, religion or borders.

The values of providing for those who have not--while teaching them, and helping them and their animal companions to live full, productive lives--are things in which every citizen of the world can believe. The Lexington-based office, presenting a face of the organization in a region that's equine-centric-- will help Americans to learn more about the needs of working equines and their humans who live so far below the poverty level.

So Here's the Deal.

OK, so you've been challenged to envision yourself as being stripped of all your cash, cars and houses--to see yourself as a poor person whose horse, donkey or mule is essential for Life.

You've now read about the Brooke, and American Friends of The Brooke, and you know about the amazing work of love that they do.

You've seen the photos, of equines who look like they can barely stand, and of the dear people who love them and want their best animal friend to live well.

If the equine companion thrives--they can work and earn and thrive, together.

Now you know. And if you know but don't act--even a little--then the teeny faith that I have in humanity will be dashed against the rocks. Please don't prove my cynicism to be correct: when I hear of some horrible thing that a human's done--or kindness that they could have extended, but did not--I recite aloud,

"The more humans I meet...the more I love horses."

But If you can give ONE dollar, one Peso, Euro, Yen, Dirham, Dinar, Rupee--please do. If you can give up a cup of coffee--pull your head out of your own world for two minutes, and drive past Starbucks--and give that coffee money for just one day--to the cause--you will have done something noble.

If you tithe, and can give your tithe for this week--I think that not only will God understand, but He'll bless you for it.

And if you're reading this article and you're wealthy--God forbid, a One-Percenter--and don't give a red cent to this incredibly noble cause--I would sit down with myself and re-work my values, were I you. Being rich and ignoring such deep need is a sincere indicator of a sick soul.

You really can't take it with you. It's been tried, doesn't work.

If you really can't give even a dollar, but you can blog about it--that can be your contribution, a gift given in love. Or if you can do something else--anything that utilizes your talents, your passion for equines, and your love, please contact

Cindy Rullman
Fundraising Development Manager
American Friends of The Brooke
(859) 489-4795 (cell)
cindy.rullman@yahoo.com
http://www.thebrookeusa.org / http://www.thebrooke.org
video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvhZtd4YsHU

At the core, it's about this:-- if you can look at this dear animal in Afghanistan:

Or this sad, hungry creature:

...and do NOTHING...then I pity you, even more than I pity these poor, precious animals and their people--for a person who can see such need and walk away without doing something to help--however small a gesture--is a sick soul.

People and horses die from malnutrition, but the human spirit is killed by hardness-of-heart. Please consider warming your heart, one small dollar or kindness at a time. Thank you for reading this very long article--for looking at the photos and watching the video--for crying along with me--and for responding however you are able.

God bless you, my equine community.

Hay, F!llies and Mares! A Shout-Out to Women Who Love Horse Racing

2012-10-16T13:52:12Z

If I had a nickel for every time I've witnessed a woman or a girl whispering, gushing, smiling or musing about a horse--I'd be the wealthiest person on Earth.

We womenfolk have a relationship with horses that's so deeply-rooted, so intimate, that I daresay that there's a connection between the DNA. This is not a snipe at men, absolutely: I know many brilliant horsemen, men who truly, dearly and absolutely love horses.

But I must report as a woman,, that it's a relationship beyond anything human--or mortal, for that matter. The connection between my soul and that of any horse, anywhere, is not exclusive to me. I am not a superior life form, that I intuit horses thus--I know scores of other females who love them to the point of crying, as well.

And it is for these women that I have joined forces with some remarkable babes to march into 2013 with some gifts that we hope will inspire, cajole, encourage and bless both women and men, as we grow the sport of horse racing, together...

]]> I won't go into details right now--because I can't--but I'd love to share with you the fact that, after 10 years of dreaming about it, f!lly Magazine is about to be foaled.

In February of 2013, we'll rocket out of the gate at a retailer or race track gift shop near you. The brief explanation is that f!lly is about women in horse racing. The coolest part is that the publication is entirely by, for and about females in horse racing. Every writer, photographer, artist and medium-wig (we have no big-wigs yet)--is a female. A woman or girl who loves horses, and horse racing. The age range of contributors to this first issue is eight-to-60.

We hope that you'll come along for the ride: the only direction we can go is forward, the only direction, up. Every issue will celebrate females from around the world who participate in Thoroughbred and/or Arabian horse racing. (Note the "and/or"--because there are some incredibly busy women who do both!) Of course we'll cover the famous, the insanely-well-accomplished women of racing--but we'll also introduce you to up-and-comers, dreamers, fans and those who are making their mark, right now.

I'm excited about this, because it's been a dream in my heart for a decade. And because, as the great Hall of Fame Trainer, Leroy Jolley, has said often (as recently as last week)--in order to grow horse racing, it's absolutely essential to market the sport to women and girls. And to market it to us intelligently. (I don't know about you, but I don't go to a race track for a medical exam or to be treated like frosting on a cake.)

Six years ago, Mr. Jolley told me that "Every girl wants a pony. Every woman wants a pony in the eighth at Saratoga,"--and he's right. Growing the sport intelligently really is just a matter of introducing females to The Horse, and letting them take it from there. Women are pretty smart; if you give us the tools, we can figure out how to build the thing.

We created f!lly Magazine to feed that recognition-starved part of every girl and woman who loves horse racing, and those who want to know more. Who craves a career in the sport--but who doesn't know how to find it, or whom to ask. Who's a fan, and wants to go to the track with other women who love it, as well. This magazine aims to be the go-to source for females who are fanatical about the sport, and for those who want to learn about our rich heritage as hrosewomen.

But more than that, even, f!lly is positioned to be the springboard of many products, services and creative works--and conferences.

On October 4th, 2013, the renowned horse-centric city of Saratoga Springs, New York, USA, will host The Gathering of the Herd--the women's conference on horse racing.

f!lly Magazine will host this historic event, and you're all invited. Take a moment to chew on this: women of all stripes in the sport will lead seminars and panel discussions from that Friday through Monday, October 7th. (The dates were chosen to lead into the probable date for the October Fasig-Tipton Saratoga Mixed and Horses of Racing Age Sale, which no doubt will take place on Tuesday, October 8th.)

The weekend will feature goodies of all kinds...surprises, and surprise guests...resources for women in racing, and classes for those who wish to be. We'll host an awards banquet on Sunday night. (Mr. Jolley will be one of three recipients of a very special award.) We'll open with a welcome reception, and close with a networking luncheon on Monday afternoon. We're excited, just planning the thing: we hope that you will clear your calendars, take the time off of work and be part of this ground-breaking conference.

The conference is open to all women and men, of course! We don't want to be accused of chauvinism.

We at White Horse Media--parent company of f!lly Magazine--have laid the foundation for some news-worthy publications, events and products--which will be unveiled during the course of the next year. It's appropriate that our historic magazine will be unveiled in 2013--the 150th Anniversary of Saratoga Race Course. (American's oldest and most beautiful racing venue--the oldest sporting venue of any kind in the US.)

We hope to work with our friends at Saratoga.com on these projects, all mutually-beneficial. We've received some encouraging words from many people, and look to the future with great joy.

Whether you're a female or male; pumped for The Gathering of the Herd next October; or wish to join our stable as a subscriber, advertiser or retail outlet--you are heartily welcome to our community. When women get together to make something new, there's an energy that can be felt. When women and men work together to assure that 51% of the population is given full play in a sport, medium or other endeavour--everyone wins.

Come, join our herd, in all the ways that you will benefit: whether in a business relationship; as a fan, colleague or reader. Contact me anytime at my designated email address: WhiteHorseMedia1@yahoo.com.

Thanks, friends, for your enthusiasm about all these things, and for working with us, always, to make the sport more nurturing for the horses, and more egalitarian for women and girls.

Peace.

Belmont Stakes 2012: Shell Shock, and My Best Horse Racing Experience, EVER.

2012-09-21T13:04:41Z

Those of you dear readers who know me, know that I've been a fan of horse racing for a long time. As in, half-a-century. I began riding American Quarter Horses when I was four years old, and my Mother and Grandma took me to the races at Green Mountain Park and Saratoga that same year.

I've been on the rail for 52 years now.

And once, a few years ago, I stood on the other side of the rail at Saratoga, after traipsing across the infield with some of my friends who are Assistant Starters, to witness a grass race on the Mellon Turf.

That was cool. Very cool. The air from that place felt like the cleanest, most pure stuff I've ever breathed.

But on June 9th, 2012, I had the experience of a lifetime, one that shook both the ground beneath my feet and my very being, itself...

]]> This journey to that remarkable, mind-blowing experience actually began, sort-of, in 2010.

Roy Williamson--the funny, intelligent, handsome professional who serves as Head Starter for NYRA--is, as I've discussed in this column a few times, the consummate horseman. He's been working the starting gate at NYRA for some 28 years, the last seven or so as Head Starter.

He takes his job seriously. But, even though he's been doing the gate thing long enough that he could've become jaded through lo, these many years--he hasn't. It's been nearly 30 years, but Roy understands--that, while his job and that of the Assistant Starters is back-breaking, soul-challenging and defined by responsibilities to horses and all their connections--still, it's a profoundly cool profession, one with a completely different perspective than that of anyone else in the world of horse racing.

Roy and his Assistant Starters get to see the horses up-close and wildly personal. They're in the trenches, every race, every day, year-in and year-out.

Ah, yes, two years ago: on Closing Day at Saratoga in 2010, Roy extended an invitation to me that was mind-boggling. He invited me to stand with him and his wife, Elaine, at the starting gate for the Belmont Stakes in 2011.

What?!? Cool!! Wowie-zowie.

I was pumped.

But 10 months flew by, and I hadn't communicated with Roy since that day in Saratoga. And, even though I was at the Belmont in 2011, I didn't call him. I thought it was rude to show up after not communicating, and expect to be taken to that sacred place, the horse racing Holy of Holies, on the biggest day of the year. So I enjoyed the Belmont Stakes from the rail, like everyone else.

Opening Day at Saratoga, 2011: Roy and I said Hi, and then asked if I hadn't gone to the Belmont that year. I told him that I didn't want to be rude, etc., and spontaneously he made a face that indicated that, well, I was a dope.

He reiterated that of course I'd have been welcome, and that the invitation stood.

I should be there for the Belmont Stakes in 2012.

Hell or high water, I would be there in June of 2012.

During Belmont Stakes Week this year, I was downstate for the whole shebang. For the first time ever, I attended the Belmont Stakes Post Position Draw on Wednesday. The air was electric. (Once again, the Triple Crown was on the line, and you know in your heart that everyone believed--or at least, wanted to believe--that I'll Have Another would do it. But I'll address this later on this page.)

After the Draw, I hung out in the dining room for a while. Sent a few emails, chatted with colleagues. Felt at Home, as I always do at NYRA tracks. Didn't want to leave, but had other fish to fry that day, like, writing.

Slowly, I made my way to the Clubhouse exit onto the Paddock Patio. I sat there for a few minutes, too, taking in the relative quiet and feeling the building insanity as every minute brought us closer to Saturday, June 9th.

I hated to leave.

But leave I did, and by virtue of the fact that I exited via a route I never take--I saw Roy.

The odds of that happening, I figured, were slim-to-nothing. Roy was entering Belmont's massive grounds, heading toward the Clubhouse via the same route that I'd never before taken in all my years going to the Big B.

We passed, smiled, cheek-kissed, and he said,

You'll be there on Saturday, right?

I'd be there. If I was dead, I'd have them drag my body to the rail, so that Roy could see that I was sincere.

Belmont Stakes Day arrived, and with it the most insane excitement I've ever experienced. Roy had told me in 2010 that standing where he stands for the Belmont is the single-most thrilling feeling in racing. I'd not-yet experienced it, but I knew that if Roy said it, it must be true. So all this wild anticipation in my head and pounding heart was based on Roy's insider knowledge.

He was not wrong--even being at the track and knowing that I'd be at the inside rail, was making me nuts.

As you know, the build-up to something thrilling adds to the one golden moment of madness. I'd arrived at Belmont at 6AM, to meet William H. (Billy) Turner, Jr., for the first time. (This, experience, alone, was cause for profound joy: Seattle Slew is my all-time favorite Thoroughbred, and Billy Turner is the man who took that big boy and turned him into the only undefeated Triple Crown winner. I'd never met Mr. Turner or his wonderful wife and partner, Pat, and was beside myself as I arrived at their barn in the Belmont backstretch.)

After weeping all over Mr. Turner (seriously--you know me) about how much I love him and Slew, I made my way to the Paddock Patio, where I would park myself and my spontaneous posse in the hours before the big race. It was 7AM, and the only other souls there in those early hours were those wafting in to report for work.

As I sipped my coffee and wrote notes, the air was fresh and vibrant.

In fact, the air was filled with an almost surreal joy--even though I'll Have Another had scratched the day before. Another year with no possibility of a Triple Crown--but still the place was throbbing with all the joy of a child's birthday party.

We in horse racing are a hardy bunch: we are not about to abandon our sport, or our obsessive love for horses, simply because we're denied a Triple Crown for a few decades.

Hell, Triple Crown or no Triple Crown--this was Belmont. This was the Belmont Stakes--the most grueling horse race in America. The hulking, demanding Big Sandy. This race has taken almost-great horses and shown them that, well, they're not in the Pantheon, yet.

This race is horse racing's wood chipper--grinding up terrific steeds and their jockeys, and spitting them out on the other side. I take a particular pride--call it the New Yorker in me--that loves knowing that NOT everyone can win the Triple Crown--and 99% of the reason for that is The Belmont.

Ya wanna come here and win? You'd better be tough as nails.

The day rolled by: many great races, many smiling faces. New friends, old friends, comrades in the fox hole. A dear friend hung with me for the majority of the day, and then came the race before The Belmont.

We'd made our plan, to move toward the winner's circle immediately after the race before had gone off. The second the gate opened, we leapt from our chairs and fought our way through the crowd. It seemed like we had to get past all 85,000 of the fans there, to get to our destiny.

We made it to the rail at the winner's circle, and immediately saw Communications Director, Dan Silver, who waved and smiled across that wide space. (I couldn't get over the fact that he was so gracious as to acknowledge us, on the biggest day of his year--and following what must have been a vicious day for him, after IHA scratched.)

Then we spotted Roy. But, of course, he'd never hear us hollering, "Roy!" because those same 85,000 people who tried to keep us from getting that far were drowning out even our own thoughts.

Fortunately, I'd dyed my hair, Nuclear Plant Red the day before--and Roy spotted us. He called us into the winner's circle, and instructed to hang until he gave us the signal.

This is where I can recall every detail, and yet I'm relating it to you as someone who observed. The reason for this is that the collective excitement of that place, in every second that ticked toward the big race, was taking a toll on my brain. It was almost like I had to check out, in order to live through the experience.

And this wasn't even the part that Roy had promised was mind-blowing.

Roy gave the signal, and we joined Elaine and a couple of other privileged people, following Roy and his instructions. We walked through the gate onto the track. (O, my GOD, I was standing ON the track at Belmont.)

Immediately we were to plaster ourselves, backs against the rail on the track in a line, because--no kidding--the starting gate, that 10,000-pound chunk of steel and electromagnetism--was moving right in front of us, into its position.

At this point, I could see my heart pounding, trying to get out of my chest. I could hear the masses, screaming behind me, and it struck me that this may not be the safest place in the world to stand, with my back to 85,000 wild-eyed horse racing fans.

It crossed my mind that those good folks who normally comprise my racing community, could well have been those who decide to rush the track and kill us all.

I was like a child in Kindergarten, looking wide-eyed at Roy, waiting for his sage instructions.

As soon as the gate was in place, we were to make our way directly behind it, to safety on the other side. (We had to do this quickly, before the horses and their ponies got to us as they danced to the gate.)

Oh, good idea. I'd gotten that far, it would be a pity if we'd been trampled to death by all the beautiful horses. (Although it would've been a great story to tell Saint Peter, about how I arrived in Heaven before my appointed date.)

Getting to the other side wasn't as easy as it sounds. There's a reason why it's called Big Sandy. I was up to almost my calves in that storied dirt, pulling and striving to get one foot ahead of the other. I saw that my friend had the same challenge, a fact that should have consoled me, but made me think instead that the horses would get there and kill us both.

Fortunately, Elaine--Roy's very kind wife--was right ahead, and looked back to nurture us.

As I fought my way across the track, I heard a familiar voice:

Behave yourself now, Marion!

To my right, standing at the gate, was Butch. Butch Hocker is a gifted horseman, as well. One of the Bowie Boys. A Marylander, he works all summer in Saratoga, and does many big races around the U.S. I tried to smile and think of something coquettish to say. I'm pretty sure that I failed miserably, as I dragged my sorry self behind Elaine. (Note to self: if ever I get to do this again--NO purse or other girly nonsense to carry.)

On the other side, safely on the grass and behind the hedge, per Roy's instructions.

Elaine, God bless her, asked if my friend and I were all right. Again, I think I managed to say something like,

So far, so good!

But I'm pretty sure it came out as,

Ydj3p48fn, wiellydd!

It wasn't until I was there, in The Promised Land, that I realized that, just as Roy had described--the crowd had completely lost their minds.

All I could hear was those 85,000 people screaming their lungs out as the horses took their positions. Eighty-five thousand horse lovers--85,000 racing fanatics who'd weathered lousy rides in airplanes, New York City traffic and lost luggage to be there. Eighty-five thousand people for whom this was the pinnacle of their racing year.

And there wasn't even a Triple Crown on the line.

No, this madness on this day--the whooping, hollering, chanting, screeching that yelped forth from the lungs, hearts and mouths of these racing fanatics was not because we had hope of ending the Triple Crown Dry Spell.

Nope, these lunatics were losing their minds because, as we've said--this was Belmont, and this was the biggest contest in American racing.

Triple Crown be damned: a mile-and-a-half on dirt that goes all the way to China is still the most challenging race in the United States. And these many citizens of our racing community were there, and participating as best they could--by cheering for their favorite horse, jockey, trainer, owner--and for themselves.

They, too, had made it to The Belmont Stakes, and, by God--they were celebrating themselves, as well.

The roar was deafening, as Roy had said. I had no thoughts at all, and a billion all at once.

First on my list was the fact that, as Head Starter, Roy usually listens--on a normal race day--for audio cues from the Assistant Starters:

No-no-no-no-no!

One out, one out!

He's listening for that one golden moment when all the horses in the gate are quiet--that nanosecond before one of them goes insane--to hear,

OK, Boss!

That's the minute that he hits the button, and all that electromagnetic energy releases horses and jockeys, and the race begins.

But on Belmont Stakes Day, there's no such luxury for Roy. He has to go by what he sees, both the horses in the gate and the faces and other visual cues from his crew.

(The Belmont experience at the gate is nothing like that of the Kentucky Derby--as you know, the Derby starts down the chute, away from the Grandstand. The Belmont begins directly in front of the building. The building that is rattling on its foundation, because those thousands and thousands of rabid fans are losing their collective minds.)

So I thought of Roy in that moment, and the fact that he has the hardest job in racing.

The moment after that, I lapsed into some sort of sound-induced coma. I couldn't think, I couldn't hear anything--my own thoughts were a jumble of 0s and 1s, like some sort of computer language. The one thought of which I was aware was that I wondered if my auditory canal was bleeding: the sound of those 85,000 people was the loudest thing I've ever heard. It wasn't even a sound, it was a wall of sound. No rock concert I've ever attended--and I've been to thousands--could match the sheer madness or volume of those moments.

And I have no idea how long this experience lasted: it may have been five minutes, or maybe a year. The space-time continuum really is busted wide open at a moment like that, when sound waves roll, like a freight train, across such a short expanse.

It may be the only time in my Life when I'll experience that interruption of the space-time continuum. I could say it was cosmic. Or spiritual. Or sensual. It was all those things, and yet it was none of them: it was its own thing, a thing yet-to-be defined.

Before I knew it, the horses were out of the gate, and the race was over. I felt the Earth shivering beneath my feet when Union Rags and Paynter thundered past me, only feet away. The power of those two throbbing, beautiful horses--in concert with the collective soul of 85,000 lovers--shot like a bullet through my body, from my feet, up and out through the top of my head.

And then it was over. And Roy and Elaine were escorting us back across the track, to exit again through the winner's circle before Union Rags and his peeps took the stage.

And I sat on a box near the winner's circle presentation, and yet it was a blur for both of us, I suspect. Shortly thereafter, we made our way out to the Paddock Patio, and found space on a bench. We sat in stunned silence: I suspect that my friend was experiencing the same thing that I was: not sure what we'd just experienced. Needing to process it, but lacking words or even emotion to connect to the moment.

It was the best horse racing experience of my Life.

Like many people, I am jaded. Never jaded about the horses--I love them absolutely and utterly. Never will that change. But humans are a constant source of disappointment. Hence my phrase,

The more humans I meet...the more I love horses.

Never do I take for granted the beauty of Saratoga Race Course, or of every golden day at that shrine. Never do I take for granted any opportunity I have to be around a horse.

But other than horses--it takes a lot to impress me.

So when I tell you that June 9, 2012--those few minutes on The Other Side with Roy, Elaine and a good friend--were THE best moments of my entire career as a horse racing fan and writer in the sport--I am not exaggerating.

And I'm not kidding when I say that, looking back at the experience--having three months and an entire Saratoga meet to think about it--finally I have some thoughts.

Many of my thoughts are about the others, those who weren't behind the hedge on the infield. The 85,000 mad-with-glee horse racing fans. Those people for whom this sport is the very essence of Life, for whom every day is a good day because there are horses in the world, and in our lives.

I'm thinking also about the thousands of people who have jobs, careers and vocations because of horses, especially here in New York State. The billions of dollars that are spent every year in New York State, because of horses. The millions of dollars spent just around that one day in June, in New York City.

I doubt that it's possible to calculate to the dime, how many billions of dollars are generated every year by The Belmont Stakes, the New York horse racing community and the people who, across-the-board, comprise that family. (Fans, professionals, support industries.)

The taxes that are collected from those people and services--that number, alone, must be staggering.

I had the best racing day of my Life in June of this year. I thanked Roy and Elaine a few dozen times, I'm sure. I know of another 85,000 people who, while they didn't have the hallucinogenic experience that I knew that day--still, they went home and talked about it being The Best, Ever.

It's taken me these three months to collect my thoughts, and I'll replay the experience in my head and heart for years to come.

But the most prominent thought, that which plays over and over, is that, because of horse racing, Roy and this golden day--I had the best experience of my Life.

And that Belmont Stakes Day is representative of the passion, drive and money that flows into and through this State, because of the equine industry.

The passion for the horses cannot be separated from the economic indicators. Economics are cold: horses, horse lovers and those in the equine industry are warm. To calculate the value of horse racing in New York--or anywhere--based solely on money is to miss the point, altogether.

The Belmont Stakes is an institution, a challenge, a sacred event to those who love horse racing, worldwide.

Our New York tracks and the gauntlet of racing on them draw royals, professionals and fans from the four corners of the Earth. Warm people--cold, hard cash.

I'd rather have my eardrums split wide-open by the screaming of 85,000 people who are deliriously happy about a horse race...than to face those same 85,000 people if they're angered because New York racing is the subject of uneducated, unfair, unwarranted tampering.

Just a thought. A thought that finally entered my head, after I got my hearing back.

Photo Credits: Many thanks to NYRA/Adam Coglianese for the photos of Roy Williamson and the Saratoga gate. '

Needless-to-say, I didn't take any photos from the infield on Belmont Stakes Day: there's no way that my CrackBerry could have sucked those 85,000 people into that tiny frame. And besides, I wasn't coherent enough to speak, never mind try to do an Ansel Adams...

Anticapping, Day Two: Let's See How Saturday Goes...

2012-08-04T01:49:10Z

No pussyfooting around tonight...here are my good vibe / horse-lovin' / touchy-feely picks for

Saratoga Race Course

Saturday, 4 August 2012

]]> RACE 1:

Stopshoppingmaria

Vuitton

(NOTE: I'm thinking that Maria and Vuitton are somehow connected--if not an exacta, I'm sure that Maria digs Vuitton bags...)

Strategic Missile - Two notes here. Fun, FUN ATB (across-the-board) bet on this chicklet--she's 30/1. AND, might I add--being a five-year-old Thoroughbred is NOT a bad thing, BTW. Thoroughbreds aren't even fully grown until they're five. Really.

RACE 2:

Grand Rapids / Joking - OK, I'm a huge fan of Darley. (HH Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum) The man knows and loves horses, passionately. And McLaughlin, I'm thinkin', wouldn't be training for His Highness if the man wasn't gifted. They've been a team for quite a while. I'd love to see this 1 and 1A come in 1, 2...

Cape Glory

Guilt Trip - You know that Chad Brown's a hot trainer, right?

RACE 3:

Fortify Darley, McLaughlin. :)

El Duro - Pletcher, Two-year-olds. There ya go.

Favor Factor - Chad Brown...

RACE 4:

The Thinker - Leo O'Brien rocks.

Tapitdar

Windafull - I dig Rudy Rodriguez.

RACE 5:

Winning Cause - Pletcher, Two-year-olds.

Craving Carats - Romans and Rosario. I like this team.

Soulsinging - If ever you think that Mott doesn't have it...repeat after me: "Cigar. Cigar. Cigar..."

RACE 6:

Hope Still Springs - Yep, this is because the name spoke to me. One of the best things about Life is that...hope springs eternal...

Poloziotto

Professor Chaos - Julien's riding this nice longshot...at 20/1, I think this is a must-do ATB.

RACE 7:

Thane - You know my thing about strong names for horses, and this name is STRONG. Sheikh Mohammed's horse may not be named for the thanes of Scotland--bodyguards for lords--but that's my only experience with the word. I hear this name, and I think of thousands of screaming, wild-eyed Scots with turquoise dye in their hair. The kinda guy I'd want as my bodyguard, for sure. If this horse isn't rippling with muscles and confidence when he walks onto the track--I'll be shocked.

Subsonic - Shug McGaughey. That's all you need to know: Shug.

Flying Bird - Mrs. Whitney and Nick. A lovely team, a team that's unseated a Triple Crown contender.

RACE 8: The De La Rose

La Cloche: Carol. James. Winter Memories' stablemate. Smart people, fast horses.

Julie's Love - Julien rides a Motion horse. Nice, nice combo.

Dealbata - Ramon and Chad. Natural for leaders to work together.

RACE 9: The Prioress

Agave Kiss - You know she rocks, and she rocks for Ramon and Rudy. She didn't come here to lose.

Jamaican Smoke - I like Eddie Kenneally.

Livi Makenzie - Your fun ATB. I dig Moquett, and at 20/1--why the heck not?

RACE 10: The Whitney

Hymn Book

Rule

Flat Out

So many reasons for each of them, I could write a book. I won't.

RACE 11:

Dominus - Yep, sorry, this name feels sacred, because "Dominus" in Latin means, "Lord." After that comes, "Vobiscum"--"be with us." Add that spiritual aspect to the fact that "Dominus" is just-plain a strong name, and...well, I have to think that--with Stonestreet, Pletcher and Johnny V--this horse has a future,not just a claiming past. (Can you say, "John Henry"?)

Philippe - Edgar's up. Edgar's up.

Star Harbour - Rajiv's up, and I LOVE Rajiv.

Fun Bet: Wishful Tomcat. Hot boy Ortiz is up, and at 30/1--really, are you going to let this longshot go?

RACE 12:

Not Today

Love Man

Happy High - Contessa, Ortiz--great, fun 20/1. Go for it.

Anticapping, Day One: Report from the Front

2012-08-04T01:33:31Z

OK, so apparently going with the gut ain't half bad. I picked at least one horse in nine of the 10 races today. Honestly, I don't keep track of how well real handicappers are doing, so I have no idea how that non-statistic goes up against the big boys (and girls)...but, given my penchant for betting across-the-board for each of the horses I like, I'm thinkin' it ain't half-bad...]]>

So here are my results for Friday, 3 August 2012 at Saratoga Race Course:

RACE 1:

Got the place horse.

RACE 2:

Picked all three. You might have decided that these three critters made a nice trifecta, and boxed it, or you may have gone across-the-board on all three. Either way, you made some cash. (OR you may have decided that I'm just plain nuts OR lazy, and didn't do anything with my sage advice. Ha!)

RACE 3:

Picked two of the three.

RACE 4:

Ah-HA!!! I KNEW that Pollard's Vision has more than one daughter who can rock the track! Blind Hope paid $20.40. Even if you'd bet her only ATB, you made cash. ($34.40--not bad for a $6 ATB bet.) If you exacta boxed her with the other two horses, or the place horse--you made $98.50. PV is very proud of his other daughter, and he's feelin' the Looooooove...

RACE 5:

Two of three (place and show). (Do you see the relative wisdom of ATB bets now? Until they introduce a Place/Show Exacta wager--ATB is the way to go.)

RACE 6:

Show

RACE 7:

Show

RACE 8:

Two of three (place, show) I really do think that NYRA needs to introduce a Place/Show Exacta wager...

RACE 9:

Place

RACE 10:

I got nuttin'.

Still-in-all, not a bad day--considering that we threw out speed figures and past performances, and went with vibes and just liking the trainers. Stay tuned, and join our merry band of anticappers...we may not roll in da dough, but we can have fun and collect a few shekels now and then.