Teach
07-08-2008, 10:29 AM
I ain’t no Biblical scholar. Yet, someone once told me that The Scriptures say that those who have prospered through wickedness will fail, but those who have suffered for the sake of the Lord will win salvation.
Well, I’m not so sure I’m gonna win salvation. The major suffering I’ve experienced throughout my years has been the act of ripping up pari-mutual tickets.
Yet, I did experience one race track incident in which I went from last to first.
In the 1990s, my friend "Bucko" and I would visit two race tracks: Foxboro Raceway and Boston’s Suffolk Downs. Most of the time, we visited the more accessible Foxboro.
Yet, one Saturday over a decade ago, "Bucko" and I headed into Boston to venture over to Suffolk Downs. A few days earlier, "Bucko" had told me that Suffolk was holding a handicapping contest (this was a day and age before DRF/NTRA qualifiers). I recall "Bucko" saying, "Walt, I’d really like to take this in." So, Suffolk it was.
Personally, the contest meant little to me. Oh, I play the flats, but I cut my teeth on the harness races. I had been a standardbred fan ever since. "Bucko," on the other hand, loved the thoroughbreds. When we went to the track, we each worked off each other’s strengths. "Bucko" would rely on my harness racing handicapping skills. I, on the other hand, would rely on "Bucko’s" knowledge of the thoroughbreds.
That Saturday, at Suffolk, we both entered the preliminary round of the handicapping contest. I must admit I didn’t study the DRF that carefully. I was basically just putting down numbers. When I reached the last two races, I said "Bucko," "Who do you like in the late double?" In a matter-of-fact tone, he gave me two numbers. I wrote them down. We then signed our contest sheets and submitted our entries.
Frankly, that day, the handicapping contest was an afterthought. Oh, "Bucko" was keeping track, but I really could have cared less, especially after I had lost the first six contest races.
As the Suffolk race card was drawing to an end, there was still the late double. I recall that both "Bucko" and I hit the first half, and then came right back with the second half of the late double. I remember the double paid about $45. As we left Suffolk late that afternoon, I said to "Bucko," "I doubt that our late double hits will be good enough to get us into the finals."
Yet, when I got home, I checked out Suffolk’s web site. Lo and behold, "Bucko" and I had both qualified. Barely. If this were golf, we had just – by the skins of our teeth – made "the cut."
Now, having just qualified, I was "pumped". The following Friday afternoon (the day before the contest finals) I left right after teaching school and headed into Suffolk. I went to Suffolk for two reasons (neither of which had anything to do with betting): one, was to buy a DRF; the other, was to check out the track’s condition (there had been some moisture). Yes, I was now becoming obsessed.
That evening, I studied the Suffolk Downs races in the DRF like I was studying for a final exam. Every line. Every angle. Every aspect.
The next day, "Bucko" and I headed into Suffolk. I was now reaching a horse racing handicapping climax. Intense.
When we arrived, we got our contest forms and began filling them out – race by race. But I had an edge. No, I hadn’t been given a tip. Just something I had filed away in the recesses of my mind. Call it a piece of information.
Step back for a moment and let me introduce someone, his name: Robert Aloysius O’Brien, or simply -- Bob.
Bob and I had become friendly when we both had taught in the Boston Public Schools; he taught business, I taught history. We both loved the track. Yet, in addition to teaching, Bob had, in his lifetime, both owned and trained horses. In fact, he knew just about anyone who was anybody at New England tracks. He was also excellent at getting information.
Yes, Bob was a character. A throwback to the era of Boston mayor James Michael Curley. Yet when Bob talked – you listened. Oh, as an aside – he had his pet expressions. For example, I used to say, "Bob, are you sure about this horse?" He’d reply, "Is the Pope Catholic?" If you said something like, "Oh, that’s too bad; the chalk finished off the board." He’d say something like, "..brings a tear to me eye." Or, he might say, "That bridge-jumper’s probably committing Harry Caray." I’d say, "That’s ‘hara-kiri’, Bob." "Him too," he’d reply.
Well, one of Bob’s "put this under your bonnet" nuggets was information he had about trainers. One day, Bob said, "Walt, there’s a trainer here named McKenney. He only has a few horses, but he slips them in now and then. If he doesn’t want his horse to win, he’ll "stop" him in the barn. But remember. When you see his name listed as trainer — take note."
Well, that day of the contest, McKenney had a horse entered in the 6th race. I’ll never forget the horse’s name — Tourister. I made Tourister my biggest bet of the contest. Yes, Tourister won and paid $20.20 — the biggest win payoff that day. Did I win the contest? I had to wait till I got home to check out Suffolk’s web site.
When I reached my house, I quickly booted up my computer. I looked at Suffolk’s contest results site. "Yes! Yes!" I repeated. I had done it. There I was all alone atop the leader board. I had won: $2,500! Yippee!
When I told my wife, she didn’t believe me. I said, "Just wait a couple days; I’ll show you."
The following Monday, after school, I once again trekked into Suffolk. I met with their PR department. One of the PR guys handed me five $500 betting vouchers. I had to go into the track to redeem the vouchers. There was a live card. I must tell you I was tempted... But I took the twenty-five "Benjis" and headed home.
Well, when I arrived home, my wife was sitting in bed reading. I said "There you are 'Doubting Thomas'"; you should now be Thomas The Believer, as I showered her with twenty-five $100 bills. I then said, "Do you believe in me, "o ye, of little faith?" Yes, "The Last Shall Be First!"
Well, I’m not so sure I’m gonna win salvation. The major suffering I’ve experienced throughout my years has been the act of ripping up pari-mutual tickets.
Yet, I did experience one race track incident in which I went from last to first.
In the 1990s, my friend "Bucko" and I would visit two race tracks: Foxboro Raceway and Boston’s Suffolk Downs. Most of the time, we visited the more accessible Foxboro.
Yet, one Saturday over a decade ago, "Bucko" and I headed into Boston to venture over to Suffolk Downs. A few days earlier, "Bucko" had told me that Suffolk was holding a handicapping contest (this was a day and age before DRF/NTRA qualifiers). I recall "Bucko" saying, "Walt, I’d really like to take this in." So, Suffolk it was.
Personally, the contest meant little to me. Oh, I play the flats, but I cut my teeth on the harness races. I had been a standardbred fan ever since. "Bucko," on the other hand, loved the thoroughbreds. When we went to the track, we each worked off each other’s strengths. "Bucko" would rely on my harness racing handicapping skills. I, on the other hand, would rely on "Bucko’s" knowledge of the thoroughbreds.
That Saturday, at Suffolk, we both entered the preliminary round of the handicapping contest. I must admit I didn’t study the DRF that carefully. I was basically just putting down numbers. When I reached the last two races, I said "Bucko," "Who do you like in the late double?" In a matter-of-fact tone, he gave me two numbers. I wrote them down. We then signed our contest sheets and submitted our entries.
Frankly, that day, the handicapping contest was an afterthought. Oh, "Bucko" was keeping track, but I really could have cared less, especially after I had lost the first six contest races.
As the Suffolk race card was drawing to an end, there was still the late double. I recall that both "Bucko" and I hit the first half, and then came right back with the second half of the late double. I remember the double paid about $45. As we left Suffolk late that afternoon, I said to "Bucko," "I doubt that our late double hits will be good enough to get us into the finals."
Yet, when I got home, I checked out Suffolk’s web site. Lo and behold, "Bucko" and I had both qualified. Barely. If this were golf, we had just – by the skins of our teeth – made "the cut."
Now, having just qualified, I was "pumped". The following Friday afternoon (the day before the contest finals) I left right after teaching school and headed into Suffolk. I went to Suffolk for two reasons (neither of which had anything to do with betting): one, was to buy a DRF; the other, was to check out the track’s condition (there had been some moisture). Yes, I was now becoming obsessed.
That evening, I studied the Suffolk Downs races in the DRF like I was studying for a final exam. Every line. Every angle. Every aspect.
The next day, "Bucko" and I headed into Suffolk. I was now reaching a horse racing handicapping climax. Intense.
When we arrived, we got our contest forms and began filling them out – race by race. But I had an edge. No, I hadn’t been given a tip. Just something I had filed away in the recesses of my mind. Call it a piece of information.
Step back for a moment and let me introduce someone, his name: Robert Aloysius O’Brien, or simply -- Bob.
Bob and I had become friendly when we both had taught in the Boston Public Schools; he taught business, I taught history. We both loved the track. Yet, in addition to teaching, Bob had, in his lifetime, both owned and trained horses. In fact, he knew just about anyone who was anybody at New England tracks. He was also excellent at getting information.
Yes, Bob was a character. A throwback to the era of Boston mayor James Michael Curley. Yet when Bob talked – you listened. Oh, as an aside – he had his pet expressions. For example, I used to say, "Bob, are you sure about this horse?" He’d reply, "Is the Pope Catholic?" If you said something like, "Oh, that’s too bad; the chalk finished off the board." He’d say something like, "..brings a tear to me eye." Or, he might say, "That bridge-jumper’s probably committing Harry Caray." I’d say, "That’s ‘hara-kiri’, Bob." "Him too," he’d reply.
Well, one of Bob’s "put this under your bonnet" nuggets was information he had about trainers. One day, Bob said, "Walt, there’s a trainer here named McKenney. He only has a few horses, but he slips them in now and then. If he doesn’t want his horse to win, he’ll "stop" him in the barn. But remember. When you see his name listed as trainer — take note."
Well, that day of the contest, McKenney had a horse entered in the 6th race. I’ll never forget the horse’s name — Tourister. I made Tourister my biggest bet of the contest. Yes, Tourister won and paid $20.20 — the biggest win payoff that day. Did I win the contest? I had to wait till I got home to check out Suffolk’s web site.
When I reached my house, I quickly booted up my computer. I looked at Suffolk’s contest results site. "Yes! Yes!" I repeated. I had done it. There I was all alone atop the leader board. I had won: $2,500! Yippee!
When I told my wife, she didn’t believe me. I said, "Just wait a couple days; I’ll show you."
The following Monday, after school, I once again trekked into Suffolk. I met with their PR department. One of the PR guys handed me five $500 betting vouchers. I had to go into the track to redeem the vouchers. There was a live card. I must tell you I was tempted... But I took the twenty-five "Benjis" and headed home.
Well, when I arrived home, my wife was sitting in bed reading. I said "There you are 'Doubting Thomas'"; you should now be Thomas The Believer, as I showered her with twenty-five $100 bills. I then said, "Do you believe in me, "o ye, of little faith?" Yes, "The Last Shall Be First!"