Day at the Races

[Gate Dancer]

Back in the day..............Ak-Sar-Ben had a rather unusual alternative to sitting in the grandstand. The meet was from May to August and when it was brutally hot out you could go in to the air-conditioned hockey arena which was connected to the grandstand. They had a drive-in movie size screen in there which would show the races. Picture quality was pretty good and the break from the heat was welcome. Most days I just found a granstand seat around the 1/8th pole and had easy access to concessions and betting windows.

While at Keeneland a year ago, I went from the paddock to my seat in the grandstand. But at Tampa, I strictly hung out around the paddock and apron. Each track seems to have a better method of enjoying the race experience. I'm going to Gulfstream on February 2nd next year and will be curious to see what is the best way to enjoy that. My visits to actual racetracks seem to be few and far between, but I still would prefer that if I lived within range of one.

[odbaxter]

I live about an hour from Woodbine and get there as often as possible. The Wed. Night cards during the summer are awesome. The racing leaves something to be desired but the access to the paddock, and track is great.
I'm headed to Santa Anita for the first time Sunday January 8th if anyone has has some suggestions?
I'm hoping to make clockers corner in the morning but I'm afraid my flight might land too late.

[freddymo]

Originally Posted by pweizer

I am not sure where you were going but do yourself a favor. Just once, go to Saratoga or Keeneland or Santa Anita or Del Mar. Go to the paddock. Watch the horses live (not on a screen). Even on a weekday, it is an amazing experience.

Paul

Paul I suggest you head out to Portland Meadows or Fonner Park, maybe the state fair at Syracuse to watch some Standard bred racing. maybe PID with all 800 fans its special stuff or hawthorne in the dead of winter..

Paul I love the track but have a heart. Whats so special about see Scott Stevens riding a busted 3k claimer at Turf paradise.. remember they dont call it Paradise for nothing

[hoovesupsideyourhead]

the v.i.p table at byks bbq toga..you never know who will be sitting there

[GoIrish]

Paddock.
Bet.
Upstairs grandstand; watch race thru binos.
Curse.
Repeat.

[pweizer]

Originally Posted by freddymo

Paul I suggest you head out to Portland Meadows or Fonner Park, maybe the state fair at Syracuse to watch some Standard bred racing. maybe PID with all 800 fans its special stuff or hawthorne in the dead of winter..

Paul I love the track but have a heart. Whats so special about see Scott Stevens riding a busted 3k claimer at Turf paradise.. remember they dont call it Paradise for nothing

Certainly not all tracks are created equal. But I was at Philly Park (I refuse to call it Parx) two weeks ago. Suffolk Downs is my home track. Yet, I still enjoyed the beauty and excitement of watching live horses.

I bet from home all the time and I get the convenience side of the equation. But, to me, being there live is still something special every time.

Paul

[freddymo]

Originally Posted by pweizer

Certainly not all tracks are created equal. But I was at Philly Park (I refuse to call it Parx) two weeks ago. Suffolk Downs is my home track. Yet, I still enjoyed the beauty and excitement of watching live horses.

I bet from home all the time and I get the convenience side of the equation. But, to me, being there live is still something special every time.

Paul

I guess..I do not know about how nice Philly is in fact its basically become a poker joint. Is Suffolk still opened and why?

[Kasept]

[/size]

Originally Posted by freddymo

I guess..I do not know about how nice Philly is in fact its basically become a poker joint. Is Suffolk still opened and why?

Freddy's racetrack ritual!

[hockey2315]

Three legends of the turf.

[Antitrust32]

I love the three different variations of leg crossing in that pic!

[Kasept]

Originally Posted by Antitrust32

I love the three different variations of leg crossing in that pic!

[The Devil]

Why in the world are they hanging out at Delaware Park?

[Antitrust32]

Originally Posted by Kasept

thats great. I like how Freddy is smiling at his phone. looks like someone texted Freddy a boo bee pic! haha even better is Freddy's two pair of glasses.. and neither are on his eyes!

[Kasept]

Originally Posted by The Devil

Why in the world are they hanging out at Delaware Park?

I had picked up Andy & Haskin on the way down to DelPark for the race. I think Freddy was playing in a poker tourney.

Originally Posted by pweizer

Certainly not all tracks are created equal. But I was at Philly Park (I refuse to call it Parx) two weeks ago. Suffolk Downs is my home track. Yet, I still enjoyed the beauty and excitement of watching live horses.

I bet from home all the time and I get the convenience side of the equation. But, to me, being there live is still something special every time.

Paul

I was at Suffolk Downs for a tourney in Oct 2010 and that place was a complete dump. I hated it so much that I made my picks early and went back to the hotel in Natick to watch it there on my laptop.

[pweizer]

This is exactly my point. Even at tracks that are a dump, the thrill of seeing live horses run is a different level of excitement that you can get watching at home.

If all one cares about is betting, I suppose it doesn't matter. I bet a lot. But I got hooked on the sport because I love the thrill and beauty of seeing the sport live.

Paul

[freddymo]

lil Pill....Still brings tears my eyes.Is she still hanging out in West Virginia? Is she the fastest DT horse ever?

Delaware Park is really nice track, in a beautiful setting.

You can make it to Delaware Park in under 2.25 hours from NYC.. Belmont can take you an hour on a bad day.

Delaware 3 days a week from April thru Oct could be a very decent meet.

27 races a week 7 months a year.. Might be work trip Paul.

Philly Park? Not so much, unless its your BUSINESS but to come to experience the majesty of the Street Road?

[satan's twin]

Originally Posted by Rudeboyelvis

Some tracks do a great job of enhancing the on track experience, while other are still lost in the 80's and couldn't care less who shows up - if you're near one of the latter, then I would probably be echoing Helo's sentiment.

For example, I've had a blast at Arlington Park when visiting Chicago - beautiful facility, tons of fans, lots going on, etc. but something tells me (totally speculating based on what I've heard - I've never been there) that experience at Hawthorne in February might not exactly translate.

Oh, pish posh, sir. Enough of this blasphemy. How dare one besmirch this winter palace of racing without full consideration of all its treasures. Where else but this crown jewel will the diligent horseplayer find all that he seeks, requiring only warm clothing, a strong stomach and, on most occasions, a fully loaded weapon.

Consider the sensory overload of the Hawthorne experience. First, the unparalleled skyline of Stickney, Illinois, resplendant in towering smokestacks, billowing mammouth clouds of industrial glory for all to inhale and savor. If not ingesting the rich blends of sulphates and ores, it is hard to ignore the toe-tapping serenade abounding from the adjacent Stevenson Expressway or nearby Midway Airport. Be it the roar of a departing jet or the wafting aromas from the nearby filtration plant of the Chicago Sanitary District, the sights, smells and sounds of Hawthorne is like none other.

Besides the idyllic, park-like conditions of the surrounding areas, one never tires of the interaction with those quaint railbirds one finds at HRC. Oh sure, on the walk from the parking lot to the grandstand, you may see the occasional wheel-chaired bound patron hopelessly stranded in a snow drift, but if you divert your eyes quickly enough, you're just as apt to see local legend Sun Tan Tommy, clad stylishly in a t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, hustling to the front door from the Cicero Avenue bus stop, hoping to win enough to buy a seasonal windbreaker, though highly unlikely, since his last big score at the track went for a roll of duct tape used for flip-flop repairs.

On those occasions when temperatures drop to single digits, and the street industrialists working the entrance to the expressway just can't seem to find enough consumers for their packages of white tube socks, they may switch products and hawk hand-packed bags of salted peanuts at the entrance to Hawthorne. Who can resist that heart-tugging sales pitch of that vendor holding a bag of peanuts in one fingerless gloved hand and that Turkish blend we commonly call a Lucky Strike in the other, which he inserts with morbid rapidity into that tracheal hole four inches south of his chin....But aside from the questionable sales presentation, who doesn't fondly link the purchase of a bag of peanuts with some irresistably memorable experience from one's youth? And who can resist tearing open the bag to bite open the crunchy shell.....to taste the peanuts themselves...........and that lingering taste of the salt...........which is an odd taste of salt............sea salt? Considering the purveyor, I'm going with either.....hand sweat......or, urine?

But the best prize of all is the racing itself. Full fields or five, sometimes six, runners sporting as many as two, and sometimes three, good legs running in memorable four-figured, and on some rare days, five-figured purses!
With such an enviable purse structure, it is no wonder that Hawthorne can attract "the best of the best" for their riding colony. And no truer is that fact demonstrated than when the likes of a racing stalwart like a 'SpongeBob' Eddie Perez heads up your racing colony. There is no bigger thrill in the game today that when seeing that dwarf, clad in a snowmobile suit instead of racing silks during the winter months, ride a 3-to-5 favorite down the stretch for a hard fought fourth place finish. Many are the occasions when I have wondered how the Michelin Man secured a mount at Hawthorne only to be reminded that it was none other than E. Perez pulling the curtain down on yet another promising steed's racing career.

So before one dismisses this treasure, one must ask himself "where will I be able to find so much amusement in one place if not here?"

[pmayjr]

As my location states-

"Canterbury Park, 3rd floor clubhouse (just south of Minneapolis, MN)". I have Comcast cable that doesn't carry TVG... and honestly, with Canterbury being about a 15-20 minute drive for me, that's enough of an enabler. I'll eventually succomb and start betting online, but I'm good for right now.

Not a bad place for people watching during live racing in the summer, but the quality of racing here sucks.

[Rudeboyelvis]

Originally Posted by satan's twin

Oh, pish posh, sir. Enough of this blasphemy. How dare one besmirch this winter palace of racing without full consideration of all its treasures. Where else but this crown jewel will the diligent horseplayer find all that he seeks, requiring only warm clothing, a strong stomach and, on most occasions, a fully loaded weapon.

Consider the sensory overload of the Hawthorne experience. First, the unparalleled skyline of Stickney, Illinois, resplendant in towering smokestacks, billowing mammouth clouds of industrial glory for all to inhale and savor. If not ingesting the rich blends of sulphates and ores, it is hard to ignore the toe-tapping serenade abounding from the adjacent Stevenson Expressway or nearby Midway Airport. Be it the roar of a departing jet or the wafting aromas from the nearby filtration plant of the Chicago Sanitary District, the sights, smells and sounds of Hawthorne is like none other.

Besides the idyllic, park-like conditions of the surrounding areas, one never tires of the interaction with those quaint railbirds one finds at HRC. Oh sure, on the walk from the parking lot to the grandstand, you may see the occasional wheel-chaired bound patron hopelessly stranded in a snow drift, but if you divert your eyes quickly enough, you're just as apt to see local legend Sun Tan Tommy, clad stylishly in a t-shirt, shorts and flip-flops, hustling to the front door from the Cicero Avenue bus stop, hoping to win enough to buy a seasonal windbreaker, though highly unlikely, since his last big score at the track went for a roll of duct tape used for flip-flop repairs.

On those occasions when temperatures drop to single digits, and the street industrialists working the entrance to the expressway just can't seem to find enough consumers for their packages of white tube socks, they may switch products and hawk hand-packed bags of salted peanuts at the entrance to Hawthorne. Who can resist that heart-tugging sales pitch of that vendor holding a bag of peanuts in one fingerless gloved hand and that Turkish blend we commonly call a Lucky Strike in the other, which he inserts with morbid rapidity into that tracheal hole four inches south of his chin....But aside from the questionable sales presentation, who doesn't fondly link the purchase of a bag of peanuts with some irresistably memorable experience from one's youth? And who can resist tearing open the bag to bite open the crunchy shell.....to taste the peanuts themselves...........and that lingering taste of the salt...........which is an odd taste of salt............sea salt? Considering the purveyor, I'm going with either.....hand sweat......or, urine?

But the best prize of all is the racing itself. Full fields or five, sometimes six, runners sporting as many as two, and sometimes three, good legs running in memorable four-figured, and on some rare days, five-figured purses!
With such an enviable purse structure, it is no wonder that Hawthorne can attract "the best of the best" for their riding colony. And no truer is that fact demonstrated than when the likes of a racing stalwart like a 'SpongeBob' Eddie Perez heads up your racing colony. There is no bigger thrill in the game today that when seeing that dwarf, clad in a snowmobile suit instead of racing silks during the winter months, ride a 3-to-5 favorite down the stretch for a hard fought fourth place finish. Many are the occasions when I have wondered how the Michelin Man secured a mount at Hawthorne only to be reminded that it was none other than E. Perez pulling the curtain down on yet another promising steed's racing career.

So before one dismisses this treasure, one must ask himself "where will I be able to find so much amusement in one place if not here?"

I laughed so hard, I just sh1t myself...this might be the post of the year, Barney.