Derby No. 138 Follow-Up: Why I Don’t Watch Horse Races

I have watched several horse races in my lifetime: a couple on television, a couple at the track. In each, horses were hurt—some fatally. It’s enough of a pattern to convince me to stop watching. Not because I think myself a jinx, but because I believe too many horse trainers/owners/jockeys/track operators don’t take enough precautions to ensure the well-being of the horses.

I’ve been waiting to comment on this past weekend’s Run for the Roses until I could find out the postrun health of Take Charge Indy. Turns out, he has a bone chip.

Hey! So do I! I know just what it feels like to have that little bugger send out crippling shocks of pain to remind me it’s there. I feel for you, Take Charge Indy, and know exactly why your Derby race wasn’t your best.

Unlike me, Indy will be undergoing surgery this week to have his chip removed. The owners and vets expect a good recovery after about 60 days of rest and then it’s back to the races for the horse.

I also worried about Phyllis Wyeth’s Union Rags, whose race got stymied right out of the gate. It’s certainly not the worst that could have happened under those circumstances; at least the horses didn’t crash into one another or hurt each other in the tumult of finding a position.

All-in-all, this Derby went smoothly—no pileups, no falls, no injuries, no deaths. No complaints. O, that every race could end on such a high note.

[Photo by Harry Whittier Frees.]

Grab a Hat and a Drink

Today marks the 138th anniversary of the Run for the Roses, a celebration that typically includes horses, hats, and mint juleps.

As you already know, I don’t watch races. And I discovered this morning that I suffer from a condition known as PPS: Pretty Pony Syndrome—meaning that if I were a betting person, which I’m not, I’d be swayed by the aesthetics of the horses. In today’s lineup, I’m particularly drawn to Hansen and Creative Cause.

In case you overdo it on the juleps this afternoon, here are a couple of sobering facts about the racing industry:
1. 750 horses die on U.S. racecourses each year.
(Would we allow a stat like that to exist for professional ball players in this country?)
2. More than 10,000 U.S. Thoroughbreds are shipped for slaughter each year.
(That’s just the Thoroughbreds, mind you. There are plenty of other breeds headed for slaughter each day.)

Sorry to be the killjoy, but if you’re watching the Derby, you need to know what you’re supporting.

For previous (mostly happier) posts about the Kentucky Derby, see “Dressing for Derby Day”—which includes info on hats and mint julep recipes, “Derby Day Is Here,” “WordGazing: Derby Tip for Grammarians,” “137th Derby Follow-Up,” and “May Day, May Day!”

[Top pic: Amber, owned by Fox’s Biscuits, wears a Stephen Jones hat at Royal Ascot, Britain’s historic Thoroughbred racecourse.]

137th Derby Follow-Up

My apologies to those who followed my grammar-based tip for the Derby. I read last night that Comma to the Top came in last. However, he also suffered an ankle injury for which he was flown to Colorado for surgery.

Comma to the Top wasn’t the only horse to finish the Run for the Roses in worse shape than when he started. Pants on Fire bled internally during the race due to some immune system problem and rather than heading on to the Preakness, will spend an undetermined amount of time recuperating at home.

ArchArchArch was bumped coming out of the gate, where his jockey believes his leg fractured, and then got bumped again further down the track. The poor creature ran the entire race on a fracture. He will never race again.

You know what? I take back my apology. If you’re a gambler, you do it at your own risk. All I ask is that you find something else to bet on besides animals.

There’s a great PETA ad that says it all. Obviously, dog fighting is a bloodier “sport” than dog racing, but the consequences—neglect and death—are the same for the dogs either way. The dogs have no choice in the matter. Nor do racehorses.

When gambling, stick to your own species.

[Pic of ArchArchArch by Harold Roth.]

WordGazing: Derby Tip for Grammarians

If you’re still looking for a pony to bet on in today’s Run for the Roses, put your money toward the only one with a connection to punctuation: Comma to the Top. It’s a Southern expression for apostrophe.


I read an uptight blogger’s rant about how ridiculous it is to use a four-word euphemism in place of apostrophe. I don’t know the etymology behind it, but it works—descriptively speaking. And if it helps some folks use a “comma to the top” properly (we already know how many folks can’t master the apostrophe), then what’s to complain about?

Derby Day Is Here

“The Derby is the supreme hour of a supreme creature, a moment in which most falter and one transcends. It is not the richest race, not the longest, nor the fastest, but for many, it is the only race.”
—Laura Hillenbrand, in her essay “The Derby”

I won’t be watching the race today. But I will be hoping that each and every horse makes it through the big show without incident—no injuries, no accidents.

[Pic by Dan Dry.]

Dressing for Derby Day

The 137th Run for the Roses is only a day away and, as a new resident of the Bluegrass, I feel obligated to help you prepare properly.

There are two items you must wear as an authentic Derby audience member: a hat on your head and a mint julep in your hand.

The hat I’ll leave up to you. It can range from ridiculous to stunning. Personally, I prefer elegant. Whatever your choice, it’s supposed to bring luck.

As for the mint julep, I encourage you to rely on tradition. Sure, the Internet will give you gobs of recipes. But I’m about to share with you 19th-century statesman Henry Clay’s version—the one he introduced to D.C. society and the nation—straight from his estate in Lexington, Kentucky.

Clay was a bourbon connoisseur. He doesn’t specify a particular brand in his julep instructions, of course, but you can bet he didn’t cut corners.

“The mint leaves, fresh and tender, should be pressed against a coin-silver goblet with the back of a silver spoon. Only bruise the leaves gently and then remove them from the goblet. Half fill with cracked ice. Mellow bourbon, aged in oaken barrels, is poured from the jigger and allowed to slide slowly through the cracked ice.

In another receptacle, granulated sugar is slowly mixed into chilled limestone water to make a silvery mixture as smooth as some rare Egyptian oil, then poured on top of the ice. While beads of moisture gather on the burnished exterior of the silver goblet, garnish the brim of the goblet with the choicest sprigs of mint.”

Sip slowly.

Other recipes exist for this traditional drink and any claim to the RIGHT recipe stirred a great deal of controversy back in Clay’s day. In 1936, humorist Irvin S. Cobb wrote the following about mint juleps:

“…well, down our way we’ve always had a theory that the Civil War was not brought on by Secession or Slavery or the State’s Rights issue. These matters contributed to the quarrel, but there is a deeper reason. It was brought on by some Yankee coming down south and putting nutmeg in a julep. So our folks just up and left the Union flat.”
—From Beyond the Fence: A Culinary View of Historic Lexington

For stats regarding the mint juleps served at Churchill Downs, visit Kentucky Derby. If you’re a bourbon-drinking novice, visit the Kentucky Bourbon Trail and Kentucky Barrels Web sites for additional information on this very American Spirit.

Happy Derby viewing. And don’t forget…

Sip slowly.

[Images of hats from a previous Derby: James Brown photographed by AP’s David J. Phillip, and an unidentified pic. Goblet crafted for Gabriel Jones by Lawrence Miller, based on an Asa Blanchard design; photo from Kempt. Unidentified Derby horses (pic by Kinetic); Lookin At Lucky from 2010 Derby (pic taken by Dan Dry).]

May Day, May Day!

Though much of the world pays tribute to labor issues on May 1, I prefer to go the pagan route and pay tribute to flowers with this whimsical topiary, Puppy, by Jeff Koons.

Flora, fauna, and art—a holy trinity, in my mind.

But wait!

Today also happens to be a festive occasion for the racing- and betting-inclined. It’s the 136th Kentucky Derby.

Though I’m opposed to racing and refuse to gamble, I do love horses and hats.

Today offers a little something for everyone. Take what you will.

[AP photo of General Quarters by Ed Reinke, 2009 Derby.]