michiken
09-11-2008, 05:53 PM
After an 11 month battle with terminal illness, my dad passed away yesterday. I feel cursed because it was also my birthday.
I am very sad and sharing this to help the pain. He is the reason that my interest in horse racing began:
I was barely 12 years old when my Dad took me to our local track (the now closed Detroit Race Course). I remember having to fib about my age as we walked passed the attendant. I clung to my dad's arm as we walked thru the concourse while I was trying NOT act paranoid about someone discovering my true age.
We made our way to the grandstand after climbing the big circular stairway and sat down in the reserve boxes right in front of the finish line. It was just 'Me and My Dad' set for a night at the races!
We sat out in the fresh open air and Dad handed me a racing Program. He told me to pick out a 'Show' horse. I stared and stared at the numbers with no freaking clue what they meant. There were lots of times in seconds and minutes and all these funny superscripted numbers. This program had class and purse designations and Who beat Who running lines. I saw temperatures, bold numbers, jockeys, trainers, yearly records, and that was only ONE RACE! GASP!
I ended up picking the number 7 because it was my lucky number. To my amazement, my Dad placed a 2 dollar Show bet to keep me interested and I collected around 5 bucks for being lucky. Dad bought me a Hot Dog, popcorn and a Coke to celebrate. I thought this was great, FREE MONEY.
During those days I spent with him, I fell in love with the horses. As I grew older, I began to learn that there is no such thing as Free Money. handicapping involves judgment, opinion, skill, and sometimes luck in order to get your hands on those 'Free Dollars'.
I bugged my Dad to take me to the track as often as he would allow. I remember getting up for school and the first thing I would ask my Dad is if he won any money at the track the night before. Sometimes he would smile and brag about the 'Big Bear' that he won on. Other times he would just say he broke even. On those 'forgot to shave days', I was sorry that I even brought up the subject. I learned at an early age that racing is a tough game
with no guarantees, Some days are GREAT, some days are TOLERABLE and lets forget those hopelessly AWFUL ones.
I will always remember spending these times with my Favorite Handicapper!
Thanks to the members of PA who have offered kind words of support. I did the best I could taking care of him.....:(
I am very sad and sharing this to help the pain. He is the reason that my interest in horse racing began:
I was barely 12 years old when my Dad took me to our local track (the now closed Detroit Race Course). I remember having to fib about my age as we walked passed the attendant. I clung to my dad's arm as we walked thru the concourse while I was trying NOT act paranoid about someone discovering my true age.
We made our way to the grandstand after climbing the big circular stairway and sat down in the reserve boxes right in front of the finish line. It was just 'Me and My Dad' set for a night at the races!
We sat out in the fresh open air and Dad handed me a racing Program. He told me to pick out a 'Show' horse. I stared and stared at the numbers with no freaking clue what they meant. There were lots of times in seconds and minutes and all these funny superscripted numbers. This program had class and purse designations and Who beat Who running lines. I saw temperatures, bold numbers, jockeys, trainers, yearly records, and that was only ONE RACE! GASP!
I ended up picking the number 7 because it was my lucky number. To my amazement, my Dad placed a 2 dollar Show bet to keep me interested and I collected around 5 bucks for being lucky. Dad bought me a Hot Dog, popcorn and a Coke to celebrate. I thought this was great, FREE MONEY.
During those days I spent with him, I fell in love with the horses. As I grew older, I began to learn that there is no such thing as Free Money. handicapping involves judgment, opinion, skill, and sometimes luck in order to get your hands on those 'Free Dollars'.
I bugged my Dad to take me to the track as often as he would allow. I remember getting up for school and the first thing I would ask my Dad is if he won any money at the track the night before. Sometimes he would smile and brag about the 'Big Bear' that he won on. Other times he would just say he broke even. On those 'forgot to shave days', I was sorry that I even brought up the subject. I learned at an early age that racing is a tough game
with no guarantees, Some days are GREAT, some days are TOLERABLE and lets forget those hopelessly AWFUL ones.
I will always remember spending these times with my Favorite Handicapper!
Thanks to the members of PA who have offered kind words of support. I did the best I could taking care of him.....:(