June to remember
The halfway point of 2015 came and went a week ago already, and what better reason than that to look back at a June for the memory banks.
A Moment on the Farm
There are days when I wonder how I got here and what I’m doing here. Then there are nights when I know why I’m here and what I’m doing here. On a farm, in Virginia, in complete silence, not a light in any direction.
Random thoughts and observations about racing, life, the world.
You’ve heard of Throw-back Thursday. This is Throw-it Tuesday.
Monday Putts
“There are no gimme putts, but each way chances…”
Saturday Travels
Good day for a road trip. Or is it? Royal Ascot in the car while traversing from Middleburg, to Laurel, to Monkton, to Delaware Park. I’ll put the bets in early and pull over every 35 minutes to watch the final day of Royal Ascot as I hit the road to inspect a potential 2-year-old … Read more
Royal Ascot and Little League
Exactly where I said I wasn’t going to be, one year ago. On the couch while Royal Ascot begins. Five days. Pomp. Pageantry. Great racing. Turf.
What a day to go to the races
Whether American Pharoah won or lost, last Saturday’s Belmont Stakes was going to be one to remember.
And then the kiss
Saturday morning, before American Pharoah’s attempt at the Triple Crown, I wrote that it felt like I was walking into a sixth grade dance, wishing for a kiss but waiting to be brushed aside by the likes of Amy, Kate and Carolyn (disappointing that none of the three responded, they’re obviously not reading the website). … Read more
Savoring the moment at Triple Crown
It took longer than I thought it would.
The final furlong of Saturday’s Belmont Stakes, the one that gave American Pharoah and all of Thoroughbred racing the Triple Crown, lasted about 12 seconds but it seemed like an hour. He was going to win, he was going to make history, he was going to silence 37 years of doubt and slay 37 years of demons. People were going to go crazy. Hell, they were already going crazy up and down the Belmont stand, the noise bellowing in pitch and rolling high and low like some sort of tidal force.
Then time stood still.
Walking into a sixth-grade dance
The rain has come and gone. The sun’s creeping through the clouds. It’s down to hours. And, yes, I feel like I’m walking into a sixth grade dance, waiting to be jettisoned by the likes of Kate Klingeburg, Amy Cotton and Carolyn Heaton. Oh, how, they broke my heart. But, still I walk in believing in free love.
