Baby needs.....

[burnsy]

Originally Posted by westernmassbob

I think there is a big difference in someone having a gambling problem and someone whose hobby is horse racing. If you meet and want a relationship with someone they need to be willing to accept your hobby or it will never work out. It his however one of those hobbies where your partner needs to know and has control as to what kind of money is involved. I’ve seen it happen to acquaintances a few times in my life. Starts out honest enough until someone dips into expense money. Burnsy did your ex wife not know of your horse racing passion prior to getting married ? Just curious .

You are absolutely correct. Because I’ve been around gambling , growing up in this city and living here most of life. Some people have a problem, others are good at it or it’s just a hobby. My wife was from Saratoga too so she knew I loved horse racing. She was fine with it and that’s not why we divorced. She did dislike August cause I was never home and the racing was only 4 weeks a year back then. I was talking in general. Some women want to be the “mother” type and change the man they’re with. My present girlfriend has her own NYRA account and has bought my Seasons Pass and Parking pass for a Christmas present. She’s fine with it. But many women are not. The real reason I don’t get remarried is I like being alone sometimes, and you can’t put a price on going where you want , whenever you want. I’ve gotten used to that over the years. And having a girlfriend that’s not even 100 %. Doing shit by myself never bothers me.

[mountainman]

"Dependable Daryl" made the rounds of greater pittsburgh area tracks armed with a palpable blend of arrogance and charm. Daryl didn't walk, he strutted, shoulders back, long, springy legs bending impossibly low with each purposeful stride, his unaturally long ams swinging well past chest height as if it behooved him to snatch whatever might appear in his path. And daryl snatched plenty.

Tall, hard, and supernaturally intense, Dependable Daryl epitomized an archetpye-the skinny tough guy. He was swag before swag came to be. The dude had fought full -contact karate on The Wide World of Sports-Jim McKay.. the agony of defeat..etc..-and would sometimes hasten to the track without removing the tape and gauze applied to his hands for that day's session. Sometimes there was blood on that tape.

But an oddly melodic voice and mirthful eyes made you ignore those fresh red stains. Just like Bonnie must have.

She looked about 25, to her man's 40(ish), had soft, world-class curves in every place Daryl was steel and angles, and cast huge brown (what other color?) fawn eyes constantly upon him.

Beyond an obvious appeal to a balding, physical freak who would surely go full skeletor with encroaching age, beautiful Bonnie served a purpose. Our Daryl, who fired with both fists during every free nano-second, but would have had the exacta backwards if Mike Tyson fought Gary Busey, entrusted her to hold and ration the bread to those forever reaching and ever battle-ready mitts.

I called Daryl friend and was delighted for him on the one occasion I witnessed him winning. That double-card day (then quite the custom on warm weather holidays at old Waterford Park) would be the last I saw of Dependable Daryl.

At the conclusion of that afternoon's session, Daryl forked big cash over to Bonnie who was to lock herself in their room at the on-property Holiday Inn and under NO circumstances allow him admittance (or, presumably, slide fresh resources under the door) before the races ended. No matter how persistently the man she worshipped might beg. On this, Daryl was firm. To his ever-lasting credit, the "Dependable" one knew he had a problem and was likely to blow whatever amount he had alloted himself for the evening program.

Scenes from a night card: Daryl losing fast..bemoaning his luck..pacing..muttering how Bonnie had no right to have "taken" his fairly obtained winnings..now yelling that a man "needs ammunition to fight a war"...sprinting out..returning in about 30 min, out of breath, beyond agitated..losing more..and more. Enter two cops intently scanning the bleachers..Daryl docile, eyes lowered for perhaps the first time in his existence..handcuffed..taken out..apologizing..over..and over.

Not even a whisper of what had happened ever reached me. And I never heard of them again. Dependable Daryl, and his sweet, sweet Bonnie.

[mountainman]

Originally Posted by mountainman

"Dependable Daryl" made the rounds of greater pittsburgh area tracks armed with a palpable blend of arrogance and charm. Daryl didn't walk, he strutted, shoulders back, long, springy legs bending impossibly low with each purposeful stride, his unaturally long ams swinging well past chest height as if it behooved him to snatch whatever might appear in his path. And daryl snatched plenty.

Tall, hard, and supernaturally intense, Dependable Daryl epitomized an archetpye-the skinny tough guy. He was swag before swag came to be. The dude had fought full -contact karate on The Wide World of Sports-Jim McKay.. the agony of defeat..etc..-and would sometimes hasten to the track without removing the tape and gauze applied to his hands for that day's session. Sometimes there was blood on that tape.

But an oddly melodic voice and mirthful eyes made you ignore those fresh red stains. Just like Bonnie must have.

She looked about 25, to her man's 40(ish), had soft, world-class curves in every place Daryl was steel and angles, and cast huge brown (what other color?) fawn eyes constantly upon him.

Beyond an obvious appeal to a balding, physical freak who would surely go full skeletor with encroaching age, beautiful Bonnie served a purpose. Our Daryl, who fired with both fists during every free nano-second, but would have had the exacta backwards if Mike Tyson fought Gary Busey, entrusted her to hold and ration the bread to those forever reaching and ever battle-ready mitts.

I called Daryl friend and was delighted for him on the one occasion I witnessed him winning. That double-card day (then quite the custom on warm weather holidays at old Waterford Park) would be the last I saw of Dependable Daryl.

At the conclusion of that afternoon's session, Daryl forked big cash over to Bonnie who was to lock herself in their room at the on-property Holiday Inn and under NO circumstances allow him admittance (or, presumably, slide fresh resources under the door) before the races ended. No matter how persistently the man she worshipped might beg. On this, Daryl was firm. To his ever-lasting credit, the "Dependable" one knew he had a problem and was likely to blow whatever amount he had alloted himself for the evening program.

Scenes from a night card: Daryl losing fast..bemoaning his luck..pacing..muttering how Bonnie had no right to have "taken" his fairly obtained winnings..now yelling that a man "needs ammunition to fight a war"...sprinting out..returning in about 30 min, out of breath, beyond agitated..losing more..and more. Enter two cops intently scanning the bleachers..Daryl docile, eyes lowered for perhaps the first time in his existence..handcuffed..taken out..apologizing..over..and over.

Not even a whisper of what had happened ever reached me. And I never heard of them again. Dependable Daryl, and his sweet, sweet Bonnie.

*This happened soo long ago that some of it seems slightly distorted in my mind.

[thaskalos]

I have been a witness to these scenarios more than a few times...and I have sided with the furious wives/girlfriends every single time. When there are unpaid bills at home...then the "man of the house" has no business anywhere near a gambling establishment.

I remember once when an irate housewife stormed into an OTB, and virtually attacked the Greek guy who was sitting at the table next to mine. The woman loudly declared to one and all that her no-good husband had his family behind on their mortgage, while he gambled the family money away on horses and cards. She even revealed that her husband had gambled away the substantial dowry that her father had given them as a wedding present.

Unperturbed, the husband looked up at her and replied: "Did you think that I married you for your looks?"

There is no shortage of slimeballs at the gambling halls.

[Elkchester Road]

Originally Posted by ranchwest

My greatest missed wagering opportunity...

A couple was arguing in the parking lot of a bar. He says, "I'm not too fat and I'm not too bald either and I can go back in there and find someone else." She was not a Hollywood starlet type, but she was not bad looking.

Had I had any sense, I would have slapped a Franklin down on the hood of the car and bet him that she could go in there and find someone before he did.

Damned straight.

[proximity]

Originally Posted by Cholly

hope he hit

so do i.

them racing forms ain't cheap!

[classhandicapper]

Originally Posted by thaskalos

Unperturbed, the husband looked up at her and replied: "Did you think that I married you for your looks?"

Yikes.

[jefftune]

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