Belmont Stakes Morning
Belmont Stakes Day – 70 degrees, partly cloudy. A chance of rain increasing from 30 percent to 60 percent later this afternoon.
Kent Desormeaux and the search for wisdom
If you’re alive in 2016, you probably know someone. If you’re in Thoroughbred racing in 2016, you know someone. Or at least that’s the way it seems when it comes to alcoholism and its connection to racing, and everyday life.
I know a whole lot of people who are recovering alcoholics. Many are in racing. Some are quite close to me. I admire their courage, their ability to set aside that part of their lives, their skill at living one day at a time in sobriety and sanity. They didn’t destroy their lives, though some tell me they almost did, and they pretty much all left at least some destruction behind them.
My Award-winning brother/editor
“Do you still write?”
That’s what I was asked after the announcement of my brother’s recent Joe Hirsch Award for the best article on American Pharoah’s Belmont Stakes (if you’re keeping score, that’s two in a row for www.thisishorseracing.com).
Change Of Command comes home
I write horses’ stories, watch them race, see them train, maybe get to say hello in the barn or feed them a mint. Some, I’ve forgotten about. Others, I can’t help but remember.
And I remember Change Of Command.
John Prine and Muhammad Ali
Miles waved his mother’s white scarf and danced in the aisle. He belted out “Dear Abby, Dear Abby” as loud as he could. He curled up in his mother’s arms when Prine slowed it down with “Souvenirs.” He yelled “Prison in Christmas” as Prine strummed the first few notes of a song Miles still can’t quite figure out. He stood and clapped for an encore and then sang along with “Muhlenberg County.”
Racing on my Mind
I have to admit, I don’t get a lot of work done on race days. Alcatraz runs this morning, well, he runs this afternoon in England, morning here. The Investec Mile. At Epsom. On Oaks Day. Big Day.
A Day at the Preakness
The rain came down. The screens went up.
Homeboykris lay behind the screens, the winner of the first, dead before the second.
Saturday Morning
Saturday morning column. Perfect. That’s what I’m meant to do when I flip open my laptop on this steamy Saturday morning. Fair Hill in seven hours, but I’ve got time to write an eloquent, thought-provoking expose on life.
Preakness Morning
Preakness morning. Rainy morning.
A dozen questions after the Iroquois
Twelve questions from the Iroquois…
