Hi Schuyler~

The Most Exciting 2 Minutes in Sports is about the extent to which I follow racing as a spectator. I always watch the Derby too. I love the build-up, I love My Old Kentucky Home. Those crowd shots during the parade of horses are always fun, or funny.  (such as this year when they showed Kent Desormeaux's wife and kids, and the announcer mentioned "implants" just as they showed a close shot of Mrs. Desormeaux's plunging neckline and barely bouncing bressessizz. Sadly, they were talking about her son's ear implants. Bet I'm not the only one who laughed.)

When they get all loaded into the starting gate, and there's that momentary pause....goosebumps for me.

I miss Dave Johnson's call of the race. This other guy's OK, but nobody does the Derby like Dave Johnson. When they come out of the final turn and DJ screams..."And DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME!!!!!"...I'm out of my chair. 20,000lbs of charging horses, jockeys applying slight pressure with the whip.

Big Brown just blew around them all on the outside. Almost like Desormeaux was just idling along in a lower gear until he decided the time was right...an whoosh. Gone. Reminded me of Seabiscuit. (Which I very much enjoyed. Lauren Hillenbrand's book is a must read if you haven't.)

I felt the same sinking feeling as you when they panned back up the back straight and showed that beautiful animal in a heap after the race was over. Aw shit!!  After the race?

Had a brief chat with someone at Slate the day before the race. Sent him a link to a Wall Street Journal article which went into some detail about the bloodline of all 20 horses that ran in this year's Derby. All 20 of those horses have (had) Native Dancer's DNA, and they all have a flaw. Weak feet and ankles. That's (according to Urq) the reason for the synthetic dirt.

This is the sort of thing that will make me stop watching the race from now on.

The sad part outweighs the fun part.

My cat lies all the time.  And she thinks she is a person.

To Switters,

Beautifully written.  Like rundeep, I also loved Seabiscuit.  And I generally watch the Triple Crown races.  Saturday, I was watching David Beckham score two gorgeous goals against Real (He played the whole game).  Loved that he walked over to us, took and took his shirt off.  Hated that he handed it to some other girl.

Thought it was a perfect day until I got home that evening and read the fray.  Searched for the article on Eight Belles and cried as I read it to my kids.  Fuck.  And in a weird way I thought of Hillary.  Not quitting even when hobbled and coming in second.  Females with heart.

So that brings back memories of my mother. Another female with heart.  My mother loved horses.  A thousand times more than she liked people.  She liked the way they smelled.    Lady was my mom's horse.  A big Albino Arabian that mom got when my mother was 8 years old as a filly.  Lady was a trotter.  I hated to ride her because of that, but mom loved her so much.   My parents bred Lady once.  With a quarterhorse.   The foal she had was a gorgeous wild buckskin.  Never completely broken, always tore down the fence of the horseshoe guy.   Only our family dared ride him.  But when we did, we were often stopped with outrageous offers to buy him.   The Daily paper even did a full page color photo of my sister on him--she was a rodeo queen on him.  

Mom was 40 when lady had to be put down.  Mom mourned her deeply.  More than she ever mourned a human. I think she missed her until her death. 

So thanks for your Eulogy of Eight Belles.  Glad I was pointed to it.

Poorly written, though.

Good thing I don't write for a living, I have no patience for it.

My cat shows her tummy and says "tickle me!"

Then when you are dumb enough to do it, she tears you to pieces.

Stupid humans, works every time.

A couple of years after Lady was put down, my mom got me a beautiful Arabian Mare.  My brothers got snowmobiles.  She was very disappointed that I would have preferred a swowmobile.   Regret that I didn't get then that my gift was so much more meaningful.

Have to rent the horses, though.

Impressed some Bedoins when I galloped their Arabian through the the narrow canyons to Petra.  (my guide thought he was going to lead my horse, huh)

Have rented horses to take the kids riding in the mountains.  My son isn't that excited about it, but my daughter seems to share my mother's love for horses.

But I married a city boy, and we moved to the suburbs.  I appreciate my parents for what they gave us more and more every day.

Mom ended up breeding Arabians.  We had this gorgeous red Stallion--a lot of fun to ride.  The curve of his neck was unbelievable.    She did buy a retred (he was 8 years old) racehorse once.  He was too skittish to ride.  We only had him for a couple of years, but he was such a pretty dapple grey. 

God, I haven't thought of this stuff in years.

How 'bout you, any horse stories?