I brought my Canon to the track, and one of my favorite lens, the 35 mm, lately my very favorite. I wondered all the way to the track how I might capture such a rich, diverse, raucous and historic place. I decided to not take a single photograph of a horse, so many photographers have taken so many beautiful photos of horses, I have nothing to add to that. What I might add is my own perspective, my own sense of the place, and towards the end of the day, when Maria and I were placing our last bets, I looked up and saw this thoughtful young man, a summer job at the track I suspect, guarding the Clubhouse steps, lost in thought, the historic old gables of the track looming over him, surrounded by the very casually dressed and intense people in the crowd.
And this, I thought, is what Saratoga Raceway is to me.
One of the first things I learned when I did the racing circuit as a gambler was who to pay attention to at the racetrack. Guys with suspenders and big bellies and cigars were good to stand behind in, I would often bet what they bet, and guys with thick necks and gold necklaces were good too. This gentlemen puffed away on his cigar and read his racing program, then went to the window and put $100 on Number four to win. I eavesdropped and bet $5 on Number Four to place. Times have changed.
Number Four won. The good man was right in the same spot the next race and this time, I followed my own hunch, and lost.
I love race tracks, and I am always surprised to see how much they have changed. Saratoga is a beautiful old track, a wonderful place to watch a race and I am always a bit amazed to see the thousands of people who bring lawn chairs, coolers, sandwiches and snacks and set up on the lawns behind the racetrack. They only move to place bets, they have their own food, and they are not interested in seeing the horses, they don’t even look up as they are led right through the grounds to the paddock.
They watch the races on monitors, and often brings friends and family members. They have a good time, but I am never quite sure why they come all the way to the track. When I made my living placing bets, I remember people coming to the track in ties and jackets, people strolled the quiet grounds between races to watch the horses come through. The race track is livelier now, the crowds come great distances to sit at picnic tables and talk and laugh. It is a fun thing to see, but everything changes, that i the them of our times.
I have not ever written about it or even talked about it much, but one part of my secret life or secret lives – the parts that don’t make it into books or blogs – was my time making a living at the racetrack, I spent several wonderful years cruising up and down the East Coast – from Hialeah to Saratoga – hanging out with jockeys, handlers, trainers, racing bums and touts, a few wise buys and some drifters like me who never got rich, never went broke, just kept our eyes and ears open and made a comfortable living betting on the ponies. It was a grand time, we played poker every week kept an eye out for one another, got jockeys and writers drunk in bars and pumped them for news, I would recommend it to anybody who is curious, has some will power and discipline and wants to see the world from a rich and unique perspective.
Today I went with my former girlfriend to the Saratoga Raceway on a beautiful (it had to happen) summer day. We got some seats up in the grandstands, bought three or four tip sheets and studies them. I was a bit shocked by Maria’s enthusiasm, acumen and gambling instincts. She pored over the racing forms and stats, watched the betting boards, peppered me with questions, rushed to the paddock to see how the horses looked, had her favorite tellers and won a whole string or races in a row, four I think. She had that mad gleam in her eye when she one – and she won a lot – and we both both lost the the last two and left with a few extra dollars in our pockets, enough to buy apples and berries on the way home.
Maria is studying the exactas and trifectas and I suspect we will be going back shortly. How great it would be to go to Hialeah this winter and make our way East. But life is different now, I am trying to figure out how to take Maria to Florence, a place I know she would love a lot more than a winning trifecta. We had a blast.
