The Inside Rail

Saratoga is looming. Large. Sure beats last year when it was limping. At best. 

Six days away. I'm still trying to figure out how to be in Lexington Monday and Tuesday for Fasig Tipton July Sale and Saratoga by Wednesday for the first deadline Wednesday night. As an owner once said to me, "I have a plane, I need a time machine." I might need both. 

Putting travel stress aside, it is fun to think about Saratoga again. The mornings on the rail. The golf cart paper routes. A new batch of interns looking to make it big. The horses. The horsemen. The fans. The late-night-early-morning deadlines when words and observations somehow explain moments in time. 

I just received an email from Ted Coyle about a celebration for his dad, Tom. He was one our first readers, back when we didn't have many, any. He put a "We read The Special" poster in the window of his car the first year. I don't think it ever left. I'd see it around town, at the track, whizzing past our office. Ted asked me to talk to Tom's grandkids about "all the things my dad loved about Saratoga." How much time do you have? 

See you soon, Saratoga. 

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