Growing Up With the Kentucky Derby

Growing Up With the Kentucky Derby
KentuckyDerbyMayHorseRace

For horse racing fans Christmas day happens on the first Saturday in May. On May 2nd, 2015 the Kentucky Derby will take place at Churchill Downs race track. Dating back to 1875 when the first race ran, it holds a rich family history to those who grew up in the fast lane of racing.

Growing up there was an extra spark in dad’s eyes on Derby day. For most, childhood memories of springtime were the smell of fresh cut grass and the sounds of buzz of bees on blooming flowers. For the child of a race track dad memories of spring are quite different. It is the smell of the freshly printed racing form and the sound of the crisp turning of each page. It was the bible that would be neatly tucked under his arm as he headed for a lawn chair on the patio in the shade to read the form front to back.

As the son or daughter of a horseman you knew to keep quiet during this study period. After all it required hardcore serious analysis of horse, trainer, odds, jockey and everything else that pertained to every nitty gritty detail of the horse.

Once the racing form was put down with his reading glasses placed on top, he went about his morning get dressed and preparing to head out to the local track where the Derby was simulcast live. Before he left the house he would read off the names of each horse and ask me to pick one and he would place a $2 bet across the board for Win, Place and Show.

When the race was about to be televised mom would turn on the television to watch because she too had invested a few bucks that day. Informing me the race was about to start I would sit on the floor in front of the TV watching the horses as they came out on the track. Always changing my mind several times, I wished i had bet the gray horse, no the one with purple silks or the one who galloped the most graceful.

As the camera panned the crowd how I wanted to be among the girls wearing pretty fancy hats. One year after I was grown up I swore I would attend the Derby taking my seat in the Grand Stand wearing the biggest hat in the place.

At the end of the race the blanket of red roses would be draped across the winner as the trainer, owner and his family headed to the winners circle to celebrate the victory. Sometimes I would win, sometimes I would lose but never more than a few bucks.

KentuckyDerbyHats

It wasn’t until I was 18 and legal to bet that dad taught me everything I needed to know about reading the racing form and Program to handicap a race. I took a quick liking to the Exacta races more commonly called Perfectas back then and the Trifecta races.

My first big win was when I hit the Trifecta. Dad looked at me like I had three heads after having a hunch of placing a lobster aka long shot to come in first followed by a favorite for second and third. After he advised me I should box my bet for a better chance of winning, I insisted on a straight bet. I ended up winning a signer for $1,700. My father’s reply I will never forget as he turned to his racing buddies “a horseracing fan is born”.

A few years later I went with a couple of friends to a Watch and Bet Off Track to wager on a few races. I hit an Exacta that paid $600 and couldn’t wait tell dad. Came walking in the house with the cash stashed in my knee high leather boots. I pulled the money out telling him to read ‘em and weep!

After counting up the 6 one hundred dollar bills he gave me a look of pride or least that is what I thought that glint in his eye was all about. That was until he came home the following weekend, called me to the living room where he was sitting in his favorite recliner. He pulled off his cowboy boot and out tumbled $800 he had won at the race track. It was then I realized that look was sheer determination to outdo me. After all he was the pro and didn’t want me to get too big for my britches.

I would often wonder how he developed such a passion for racing considering his parents and extended family members never bet on anything in their lives must less horses. By the time my father born and bred in Chicago was 16 he would sneak off to the track playing hooky from school. It wasn’t long before he got the neighborhood gang involved in racing and they all became lifelong racing buddies.

Dad has since passed and without hesitation I knew what he would want to be laid to rest with. Not a rose or a sentimental picture, instead the Racing Form where I am sure he is handicapping the Kentucky Derby for Saturday!

Back to articles