Not Comics: Kentucky Derby Notes



* I don't read the racing press so I may be the only one who thinks this or the last person to say it out loud, but they have got to start chopping the field in this thing. Twenty horses does not generally lead to the best race, and it increases the likelihood that a potential all-timer horse will have something happen to it that keeps it from its place in history. I think there are enough of these 20-horse fields at this point for someone to figure out how to do this fairly and effectively.

* the best moment at the racetrack doesn't come across on TV at all but it's really cool: it's the singing of Stephen Foster's My Old Kentucky Home, and how much so many people in the stands enjoy singing it. Foster, of course, was born in Pennsylvania.

* the second best moment is running into a weird celebrity from the era when the Kentucky Derby was more like a demented, land-locked episode of Love Boat than it was a pre-awards show red carpet special on E! -- Casey Kasem sightings are of course 100 times greater than seeing Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher.

* I have some general rules for betting the Triple Crown races, although you have to keep in mind I bet for value rather than to win the most times out, so it's a different set of values than you should apply, say, in your Mom's pool. At the Kentucky Derby I tend to take a long look at horses going off at 15 to 1 all the way to 40 to 1. It's so early in the season that someone is bound to be undervalued up there. Plus there's a group-think among horse people that always leads to some kind of horse being overvalued, like a fixation six or seven years ago on horses with Middle Eastern owners. At the Preakness I take a look at the Kentucky Derby winner, which if not a favorite going into Churchill is probably undervalued at Preakness as people try to re-establish their favorites. If that doesn't apply, go local, but go local with a Place or Show bet. At the Belmont I look at two things: long shots, and horses that ran at the Illinois and Arkansas Derbies.

* remember to always back up your bets. If you really, really like one horse, bet that horse "across" (to win, place and show) rather than simply to win. It's a long race, and a lot can happen. This is doubly true of long-shots.

* if you're at the Belmont and someone has a chance to win the Triple Crown, buy five $2 tickets to sell later on eBay.

* if you're spending a day at the track rather than simply one race, and you don't bet very often or don't have a lot of money to do it, the "boxed exacta" is the amateur's go-to wager for an extended period of time watching the ponies. What this means is you take two horses and bet them both ways. A "boxed exacta on the 5 and 8" is really two bets: for the 8 to win and the 5 to come in second; for the 5 to win and the 8 to come in second. But it sounds cooler to say it in one shot. It's a good bet for beginners because the reward is there if you win without much in the way of investment and it's the kind of bet that forces you to think about the horses in relation to one another.

* best quirk: elaborate hats, and the delight with which many women flaunt these Cher-like monstrosities; worst quirk: the mint julep, which is basically the run-off from when I used to clean my school desk at the end of the year with powdered soap and water.

* fashion's all over the place at the Derby, but the guys tend towards suits or blazer/slacks, and the women wear hats but opt more for cocktail party-type outfits in either cut or color. It's rare to see a guy wearing a hat. It's even rarer to see a guy wearing a hat whose ass you don't want to kick. Unless that guy is standing in the infield and his hat says "I like naked chicks" -- that person is common, and you automatically want to be their friend.

* most nudity on the infield: Preakness, but I only know that because the last time I was out there that was the most nudity I ever saw anywhere. It came dangerously close to ruining nudity. I actually lectured a bunch of 19-year-olds how much sexier it was back in the day when people at Preakness would have sex in the portable toilets without first having to show skin while waiting in line. "Our generation had a thing called class," I intoned from behind my video camera.

* best post-game location: up the street from the event at one of the many houses eager to sell your drunk ass some barbecue; worst post-game location: the soul-destroying taxi line.
 
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