Kentucky Derby 2009

Beat me to it.

 

That's a hell of a job by Calvin Borel. That guy can ride a horse, that's for damn sure. Over the last 5/16ths of a mile it looks like Mine That Bird has a pair of rockets strapped to his hind quarters.

This is why they run the races on the track and not on paper. Like the rest of the world, I gave the winner no shot whatsoever. Congrats to those who cashed and had to hire extra security to take the money away from the windows.

 

That's great when that happens. I remember one time I accidentally punched the same horse as part of the final leg of two $1 pick 4 tickets. Wouldn't you know it. The horse comes in. That was a pretty nice payday, and because it was two $1 tickets, I avoided any tax obligations.

 

Problem is how do you find those folks? And it might be someone thousands of miles away betting online.

Not like the lottery where they have a press conference.

 

Chances are if the person turns in a winning superfecta, they'll make some noise about it.

 

Don't forget about the degenerate gambler who hits it big, buys all his buddies at the local dive bar free drinks for a week, picks up an 8 ball or two for a few of his closest friends and is dead within a week. That's the story I want to read.

 

Yeah. Especially if you're in the will.

 

The trainer (I believe, it may have been the owner) was from Dalhart.

And this was amazing. Best ever? No. Well deserving? Abso-fucking-lutely.

I've also never seen a happier mud-covered jockey in my life. I was laughing the entire time as they were showing him afterwards, high fiving every person within arm's length.

 

Well, sadly, many Kentuckians still prefer the version with the words "the darkies are gay" and I swore I read correctly the lips of those on the tube singing those very words.

 

Here's an even worse story....I was cleaning out the car and found $10. I thought, hell, this is $10 I wouldn't have had otherwise, so I went looking for an online book through a friend. Then, son calls, its' pouring-ass down, the internet is screwing up, and I end up going for him and waiting 30 minutes. By then, my plan has fallen through.

I am trying very hard to convince myself that I'm $10 ahead of where I was when I woke up this morning. But it ain't workin'.

 

PLEASE stop talking out of your ass.

 

Well then, how about someone who watched it with me on the DVR and asked that we replay it...in slow motion. Sure as hell looked like he was right.