Racing with the Media
When Horseplayer’s Senior Editor contacted me a few months back about a column, I was flattered but wasn't’t quite
sure what they were looking for. He told me they wanted someone who could write from the angle of the off-track
patron and the play-from-home guy. Somebody who would actually put pen to paper and not write about his
handicapping expertise for a change. I agreed that I could talk at length about former, but still wasn't’t convinced I
was the right man for the job.
“Do you mean the way I watched our regular players line up outside the door each and every day, standing almost in
the same order to get in? The way they picked out the same exact table every day, and sat in the same seats every
day? That type of stuff?”
“Exactly”, JP said.
“Maybe I could write a little something about the harness players who work in teams, one watching the screen for the
gate break and yelling to the other which number to hit exactly as the gates swung forward”, I offered.
“I think we’re on to something”, he again confirmed.
Just like that, life occasionally throws you a few little bones to gnaw on. For me, the racing industry has kept me well
fed for almost twenty years. A great opportunity during college at Monmouth Park. A managerial position in the off-
track world. An invitation to discuss the ponies on television. Each and every step along the way one of those unique
times in life where you stand at a crossroads and know it. I do know these people I thought.
“JP- you’ve got a deal”, I said after reaching the bottom of my pilsner.
The horseplayer is an interesting breed, and I agree their stories are worth being told. From the guys who exit the
clubhouse after any given card repeatedly shouting “Yes!” like they’ve just nailed the trifecta of a lifetime, only to
stiff the young valet claiming to be broke. To the most meticulously dressed shooter complaining that the voucher he
just put into the self-serve machine really is good (and not found on the floor previously cashed). This sport perhaps
more than any other has its fair share of characters.
Since the days of walking with the horse player on a regular basis, I now talk to them thirty hours a week. I’ve
watched along with you roughly 12,000 races a year (okay, maybe 12,000 stretch runs!). The ‘off track’ aspect of the
racing world is most likely the future of the business, and we’re all fumbling through it teegather (Battaglian slip).
The effort for my colleagues and I is to somehow take all the individual simulcast signals and mesh them into one,
hopefully cohesive production.
I have to agree, there is nothing like being at the track for a day of live racing. The cracks of the whip and the
chatter of the riders over the thunderous rumble of their horses is thrilling. For me though, the best part of a day at
the races is the people themselves, the characters, the antics. It’s the part I miss out on now by reporting the news so
to speak, and not experiencing it.
That being said, I’ve actually found myself taking on more of the role of the regular guy. I’ve found myself getting
worked up over probably some of the same things the OTB patron gets fired up about. Tracks that list at TBA at one
pound overweight (how they go about finding a rider at just the correct overweight dazzles me). Tracks that find it
acceptable to have their camera work done by members of the American Association of Chronic Hiccup Sufferers
organization. Track announcers who either don’t annunciate in English, or those who mail in the call at the top of the
stretch. That type of stuff gets me talking to myself.
Then there are my personal favorites. Can someone please explain to me how we can put a man on the moon and
return him home safely, but not have a race card in which every horse is one pound overweight (even with actual
riders announced, not TBA’s)? Or (and now my shirt collar seems too tight) why is it that some of my harness friends
in Ohio have NEVER, EVER started a race at post time? I can’t tell you how many post parades have started with zero
minutes remaining, or how many horses can be seen going the wrong way at post time.
I fully understand the importance of not shutting out your player base (the longer the windows stay open, the longer
you have to bet). In the world of simulcast coordination however, we’d just prefer it if tracks just stuck to their word
and took “post time” a bit more seriously. We’re pretty sure the betting public will figure it all out.
Now that I think of it, reporting to those at home about a day at the races isn’t so bad. Of course, there really isn't’t
anything funnier than watching those harness teams stand at the ready each and every race for five minutes at a time,
like an excited player on Let’s Make a Deal. “Two… no Three!” they’d scream. Beautiful. Another little bone to
gnaw on, late nights down at the OTB.
When Horseplayer’s Senior Editor contacted me a few months back about a column, I was flattered but wasn't’t quite
sure what they were looking for. He told me they wanted someone who could write from the angle of the off-track
patron and the play-from-home guy. Somebody who would actually put pen to paper and not write about his
handicapping expertise for a change. I agreed that I could talk at length about former, but still wasn't’t convinced I
was the right man for the job.
“Do you mean the way I watched our regular players line up outside the door each and every day, standing almost in
the same order to get in? The way they picked out the same exact table every day, and sat in the same seats every
day? That type of stuff?”
“Exactly”, JP said.
“Maybe I could write a little something about the harness players who work in teams, one watching the screen for the
gate break and yelling to the other which number to hit exactly as the gates swung forward”, I offered.
“I think we’re on to something”, he again confirmed.
Just like that, life occasionally throws you a few little bones to gnaw on. For me, the racing industry has kept me well
fed for almost twenty years. A great opportunity during college at Monmouth Park. A managerial position in the off-
track world. An invitation to discuss the ponies on television. Each and every step along the way one of those unique
times in life where you stand at a crossroads and know it. I do know these people I thought.
“JP- you’ve got a deal”, I said after reaching the bottom of my pilsner.
The horseplayer is an interesting breed, and I agree their stories are worth being told. From the guys who exit the
clubhouse after any given card repeatedly shouting “Yes!” like they’ve just nailed the trifecta of a lifetime, only to
stiff the young valet claiming to be broke. To the most meticulously dressed shooter complaining that the voucher he
just put into the self-serve machine really is good (and not found on the floor previously cashed). This sport perhaps
more than any other has its fair share of characters.
Since the days of walking with the horse player on a regular basis, I now talk to them thirty hours a week. I’ve
watched along with you roughly 12,000 races a year (okay, maybe 12,000 stretch runs!). The ‘off track’ aspect of the
racing world is most likely the future of the business, and we’re all fumbling through it teegather (Battaglian slip).
The effort for my colleagues and I is to somehow take all the individual simulcast signals and mesh them into one,
hopefully cohesive production.
I have to agree, there is nothing like being at the track for a day of live racing. The cracks of the whip and the
chatter of the riders over the thunderous rumble of their horses is thrilling. For me though, the best part of a day at
the races is the people themselves, the characters, the antics. It’s the part I miss out on now by reporting the news so
to speak, and not experiencing it.
That being said, I’ve actually found myself taking on more of the role of the regular guy. I’ve found myself getting
worked up over probably some of the same things the OTB patron gets fired up about. Tracks that list at TBA at one
pound overweight (how they go about finding a rider at just the correct overweight dazzles me). Tracks that find it
acceptable to have their camera work done by members of the American Association of Chronic Hiccup Sufferers
organization. Track announcers who either don’t annunciate in English, or those who mail in the call at the top of the
stretch. That type of stuff gets me talking to myself.
Then there are my personal favorites. Can someone please explain to me how we can put a man on the moon and
return him home safely, but not have a race card in which every horse is one pound overweight (even with actual
riders announced, not TBA’s)? Or (and now my shirt collar seems too tight) why is it that some of my harness friends
in Ohio have NEVER, EVER started a race at post time? I can’t tell you how many post parades have started with zero
minutes remaining, or how many horses can be seen going the wrong way at post time.
I fully understand the importance of not shutting out your player base (the longer the windows stay open, the longer
you have to bet). In the world of simulcast coordination however, we’d just prefer it if tracks just stuck to their word
and took “post time” a bit more seriously. We’re pretty sure the betting public will figure it all out.
Now that I think of it, reporting to those at home about a day at the races isn’t so bad. Of course, there really isn't’t
anything funnier than watching those harness teams stand at the ready each and every race for five minutes at a time,
like an excited player on Let’s Make a Deal. “Two… no Three!” they’d scream. Beautiful. Another little bone to
gnaw on, late nights down at the OTB.
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