{Ed. note: If you'd like to see the photos instead of reading this long, possibly boring account of my first ever trip to the track to bet horses, you can find them here.}
Other than a three week stretch in early 2000 when I won cash in a Super Bowl pool and a TV from an online trivia contest, I've never had much luck. Sure, in some ways, I can claim that luck has been on my side. For instance, there was the DUI I got out of in 1996 when a woman in my car recognized the cop; seems her roommate had recently Lewinskied the officer. And then there's the luck of being able to find someone who is willing to put up with me most days of the week, even as I'm complaining and spewing my usual doses of negativity about everything from Madonna to the Braves bullpen.
But I'm talking about the gambling kind of luck, the walking in the casino with ten bucks and leaving with the down payment on a house in La Jolla luck. Mostly, I put my money in on a football pool or the nickle in the slot knowing that I will see nothing on my return. I get frustrated when I see the same people win, hear about friend's friends who routinely hit some sort of jackpot or the other.
That's why when I pulled the sixty bucks out of the ATM on Friday, I figured I might as well kiss it goodbye. My wife and I were on our way to the Del Mar Racetrack and we figured on this being enough to buy us a few hours of wreckless horse-betting entertainment. After paying for parking and admission, we had forty-five dollars. At most, we would be foregoing a few future trips to Taco Bell, probably not a bad thing.
We made it to our seats a few minutes after the conclusion of the first race. This gave us just enough time to figure out that neither of us knew what we were doing. Sure, I spent a few hours researching the horses--mostly looking at their names--but I didn't actually think to study up on how one goes about placing a bet. What the hell is an exacta, a quinella, a double-super-exacta-quenella in a box, or whatever? So for our first bet, we went for an exacta, 2-4-6. That was the call, but actually placing the bet became another exercise in feeling like an English major in a engineering class. The guy at the betting window looked at me, waiting for me to place the bet in the exact order which was spelled out on the sign beside his stall. "Race track, race number, horse, type of wage, amount of wage" or something like that. I stuttered through it and he handed me the ticket to what he probably knew was my maiden voyage into the world of horse race betting.
We ended up getting the 4 & 6 right, but the 2 finished in the middle of the pack. Down three bucks, we changed strategies. We needed something that offered up better odds, so we decided to go for two bets: one a show for a horse with a funny name, one an across-the-board bet on a horse that had decent odds. These two bets cost us eleven bucks; we won $5.90 on the show bet. Two races in and we were down what amounted to the price of a pack of smokes.
Before I tell you how things ended up for the two rookie racetrack betters, I should give you my impressions of the track itself. To begin with, Del Mar is a beautiful place. Located just a hay bale's throw from the Pacific, you can stand on the smoker's porch of the second deck and stare out at the ocean. It definitely didn't have the feel of a NASCAR race in Talladega. At times, I felt myself wanting there to be more action, wondered if perhaps more than a few people came there to see a horse crash into the wall at turn three. And I really didn't see the cliched burnouts that I expected, the Bukowski leaning against the rail, the addict tearing through discarded tickets in hopes of finding that one winner that someone overlooked. It all had a very sedate feel. If it weren't for the betting, horse races would really be pretty damn boring. How many jockey fights does one get to see? When do rival fans tear down barricades and charge the track? No horse race victory riots?
But the betting was fun. The anticipation at the turn, the final charge from the middle of the pack, the lunge at the pole, the wait for the race to become official. Next to the last race and Elaine and I were down to our final thirteen bucks. Both thirsty, we decided to use four for a soda and the other nine for two bets: an across the board on a horse with "smokin" in his name, and a show on a horse that had pretty good odds. This would be it. Win or lose, we were packing it in and heading home, hopeful to avoid the G Love and Special Sauce post-race concert crowd. Elaine placed the bet. I watched the sun sinking toward the Pacific, smoked what I hoped was a lucky cigarette, and wondered what we would eat for dinner.
Cut to "down the stretch they come" and I'm standing for the first time, my hand clutching our betting slip, pumping it as if I held the jockey's whip. Our across-the-board horse, the number 5, is making a late charge. He's pulling away and no other horse has anything left to challenge him. He pulls ahead and builds a safe lead. "We won, Elaine! We won!"
But what did we win? I knew it had to be a decent amount. Across the board means you get the win, place, and show winnings if your horse wins. Elaine and I charged to the betting window. For some reason, they kept the race unofficial for an extremely long time. Even the grizzled vets were getting impatient. Then it flashed. Official. #5, the smokin' horse, won. We won. And when the woman put our slip in the machine, Elaine and I saw that while we wouldn't be going on a Mediterranean cruise, we would be going home with forty-two bucks in our pocket. A nice way to end the day.
And we did leave. We could have stayed for the final race to test the extent of our luck, but we took our winnings and drove the Pacific Coast Highway through Del Mar and into La Jolla and saw the cliffs and the Torrey Pines and decided to go by the IGA and celebrate our win by buying a frozen pizza. Of course, I forgot to buy a lottery ticket.
Congrats! A very nice first time at Del Mar.
Posted by: Beckie | July 25, 2005 at 11:46 AM