Revisiting old writing is a very humbling experience. I was sorting through old grad school papers a few weeks ago and had to toss most of them out of sheer embarassment. That said, this piece has its moments so I’m reposting it out of some archivist’s impulse. Also, due to unforeseen circumstances, I’m woefully under-prepared for this year’s Derby, so this is my contribution. Here’s how the Kentucky Derby was in Boston in 2006.
It’s racing biggest day and everything smells like vomit. I stepped off the Blue Line at the Sufflok Downs T stop and almost directly into a pile of someone’s Cinco de Mayo celebration. Before I even feel the juice of my first wager of the season, I’m already a bit depressed. We couldn’t be further from the big hats and bigger cigars of Louisville, but that’s the Derby via simulcast: some of the excitement, none of the decadence.
I shared the five minute walk to the track with a guy wearing a personalized New York Giants away jersey. There was no greeting, no pleasantries, he simply asked the question Kid Rock had been asking me all week in those NTRA commercials, “Who do you like?” It’s racing’s version of “how you doing” and I’m relieved to be back at the track.
