Picking ponies has always seemed like a blind lottery to me. The 2009 Kentucky Derby certainly supports this view; Mine That Bird, a 51-1 long shot, the only gelding in the field, rode from last to first and blew by its elite competition, winning by the biggest margin in 63 years. It was the second biggest upset in Derby history and because a baby (yeah, that’s right, a fifteen month old baby!) won the most money at this year’s Kentucky Derby Party, I finally have proof that picking ponies is not a skill at all.
Each year, a good friend of mine from Kentucky hosts a lavish Derby Party to showcase his state pride. He puts together a menu of appetizers, a couple of main courses, and an incredible array of bourbons. The guys put on ties, the girls get into dresses, and we all enjoy a nice May Saturday afternoon. To add to the excitement of the event, my friend relies on me to organize a small racebook so that guests can bet on their favorite horse. This year, the smart money was split between Dunkirk and Pioneer of the Nile (the eventual second place finisher). As the race neared post time, every horse had been bet on, except three long shots. As a joke, a couple who had brought their young child in a pretty little pink dress (coincidently, also Mine That Bird’s color) gave her a dollar. She looked over the sheet, mumbled the horse’s name, and handed me the cash. The proud parents even photographed the event.
Everyone stood in open-mouthed shock, watching the long shot horse storm down the muddy final stretch, and realized that the youngest party guest had just become the biggest winner. We all cheered loudly, startling the tiny hustler, and laughed at the improbable events. Her dad and mom took another picture of me handing over the money and the toddler wandered around the room, gleefully waving tiny fistfuls of cash.
As I sat back and joked about questionable parenting, I contemplated the strange scene. It is quite possible that this was the youngest person, perhaps in the world, to pick the long shot horse, place the bet, and collect her winnings. I can’t shake the guilty vision of this young winner developing a gambling problem later in life, wandering the streets, searching the gutters for lost change, and mumbling “Mine That Bird to win. Mine That Bird to win.”
The thought passes quickly. Hey Baby! Loan me five dollars.
Each year, a good friend of mine from Kentucky hosts a lavish Derby Party to showcase his state pride. He puts together a menu of appetizers, a couple of main courses, and an incredible array of bourbons. The guys put on ties, the girls get into dresses, and we all enjoy a nice May Saturday afternoon. To add to the excitement of the event, my friend relies on me to organize a small racebook so that guests can bet on their favorite horse. This year, the smart money was split between Dunkirk and Pioneer of the Nile (the eventual second place finisher). As the race neared post time, every horse had been bet on, except three long shots. As a joke, a couple who had brought their young child in a pretty little pink dress (coincidently, also Mine That Bird’s color) gave her a dollar. She looked over the sheet, mumbled the horse’s name, and handed me the cash. The proud parents even photographed the event.
Everyone stood in open-mouthed shock, watching the long shot horse storm down the muddy final stretch, and realized that the youngest party guest had just become the biggest winner. We all cheered loudly, startling the tiny hustler, and laughed at the improbable events. Her dad and mom took another picture of me handing over the money and the toddler wandered around the room, gleefully waving tiny fistfuls of cash.
As I sat back and joked about questionable parenting, I contemplated the strange scene. It is quite possible that this was the youngest person, perhaps in the world, to pick the long shot horse, place the bet, and collect her winnings. I can’t shake the guilty vision of this young winner developing a gambling problem later in life, wandering the streets, searching the gutters for lost change, and mumbling “Mine That Bird to win. Mine That Bird to win.”
The thought passes quickly. Hey Baby! Loan me five dollars.
No comments:
Post a Comment