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.
A few weeks ago, a British friend started apologizing for his country’s traditions, it was somewhere in the middle of explaining that I had to write to the embassy to request Royal Enclosure badges. I laughed, “Hey, we wear shorts in the paddock, use nylon bridles, jockeys where black pants and don’t take a full turn of the paddock for the Belmont Stakes…so be grateful you have some traditions left.”
We were hoping to have a runner in the Britannia but failed to make the cut. Probably best, now we can take our time. But, alas, I’m on the couch with computer and television, instead of Royal Ascot with champagne and top hat. I’m getting to the stage in life that if I’m not participating, I’m not sure I want to spectate. Not sure if that’s good or bad…
The good news is I got to go to the Middleburg Royals’ final game and awards ceremony. Miles won “Best Attitude” Award. Proud of my son, playing his first season of Little League, watching him instinctively cover second base…run after a ground ball… jump on the skateboard…throw to first base…drop the bat and run to first base… round second and head for third.
In six years, we have begun our own traditions. We listen to John Prine on the way to skiing in the winter, Bruce Springsteen on the way to baseball in the summer. Guess, we need to come up with music if and when we ever go to Royal Ascot.
God Save the Queen…?