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Choose your hat and your horse. It’s the Kentucky Derby! Horse racing fans are headed to Louisville to participate in the annual opening volley for the Triple Crown. We have not had a triple crown winner since Affirmed in 1978.
The 70’s brought 3 Triple Crown winners. Secretariat in 1973, and Seattle Slew in 1977. Before Secretariat, the previous thoroughbred to win the Triple Crown was Citation in 1948. There were 4 Triple Crown winners in the 40’s. Then nothing for 2 decades. We have not had a Triple Crown winner for 33 years.
The field is full this year. To see the contestants, or horse athletes as they are sometimes called, go to the Kentucky Derby website. This year is the 137th Kentucky Derby. The Derby is the first leg of the Triple Crown. The Preakness Stakes and the Belmont will wrap up the series to declare a Triple Crown winner.
I have chosen my horse–Pants on Fire. Pants on Fire (#7) will be ridden by Anna Napravnik. Favorite jockey Calvin Borel will ride Twice the Appeal, (#9). I may switch by tomorrow, or put money on 2 horses.
The race begins around 6 pm tomorrow. It has been described the most exciting 2 minutes in sports. The winner will stand under a blanket of red roses, one of the official symbols of the Kentucky Derby. Dan Fogelbery recorded the now famous song, Run for the Roses.
[yframe url=’http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSYPNiK7fXE’]
Post time: 6:24 NBC
Princess Beatrice has set the standard. Now let’s see the ladies’ hats.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1381892/Royal-wedding-2011-Princess-Beatrice-Eugenie-fashion-flops-again.html
This has gotta be one of the most overhyped events in the UUS!
Punchak, to many people, it is the high holy day of horse-racing. I feel that way about many things. This isn’t one of them.
Ah, Punchak, you’ve just got to be in love with those beautiful animals.
Storytime. Back in the days when I was a young buck with firm muscles and a full head of hair, I was at times engaged in exercising a string of horses belonging to the Numero Uno Muslim prelate in the entire region in which I lived. Why he allowed an “infidel” to exercise his precious horses I didn’t ask and will never know. Anyway, I just pulled on my hand-tooled African riding boots, put on my Texas stetson, and had the stable boys saddle up one of the steeds. Away I would go, looking like Tom Mix relocated to Africa. A big gray stallion, a couple of smaller geldings, several big mares — plenty of choices available.
There was one horse which I had never ridden and which the stable boys never offered. She was a beautiful filly with great lines and a magnificent color. One day, I convinced the boys to saddle her up for me. They were just a bit hesitant but complied anyway. So, off I went.
It took me the length of a city block to discover that this filly was not very good at minding the reins. As I trotted her down a dirt road, we approached a large mud puddle. I tried to get her to swerve around it. She jumped it instead — I mean really jumped it. It was a darn good thing my boots got stuck in the stirrups. As she came down on the other side of the puddle, I was still going up. Fortunately, I landed hard right in the middle of that African saddle with a very big pommel — otherwise Mrs. W might never have had any kids.
Well, sir, I took that horse into a nearby soccer field and rode her up and down the field numerous times, allowing her to get used to my style, trying to figure out what made her tick. After awhile I was pretty satisfied and set out to show her off to some friends up the road. She was a beauty, and she behaved much better after the lessons. After allowing the friends to admire her, I decided to give them a show by running her full tilt down the dirt road from their place. Away we went like the wind. That filly was very fast.
That road ended in a t-junction. As I tried to pull her up, the filly decided that what I wanted did not matter one bit. She actually made a 90-degree turn on the fly, with her going in one direction and centrifugal force throwing me into the air in another direction. Once again those boots held me in the slightly too-small stirrups. And off she went down the main road like a rocket launched from Canaveral, me holding on, with my stetson flapping on its strap behind me. As we flew by some of the local people, I tried to fake it, although the horse was totally in command. I waved and grinned as we went racing by. They cheered the great American cowboy, stetson and all.
I tried everything to stop that crazy horse short of shooting her. Nothing worked until she finally tired herself out. By that time, we were way out of town. I rested her awhile and then started her back toward home at a slow walk. I wasn’t taking any more chances with that female. But by now, night was falling in the woods; and there was a ground mist rising. After awhile I could barely see the road, much less anything else.
Suddenly my ears perked up. I heard other hoofbeats. There was another horse out there somewhere in the mist. It was sort of paralleling our route. Try as I might, I couldn’t catch a glimpse of the other horse, so I let it go.
But further down the road, the hair started standing up on my neck. I twisted around in the saddle and came nose to nose with a large white stallion. That darned stallion was actually in the act of mounting the filly— with me sitting right there in the saddle!! Whoa, Nelly!!! The stallion’s head was nearly over my shoulder!! I whipped off my stetson and started smacking the stallion across his muzzle, yelling all kinds of stuff at him in French and in the local tribal lingo.
Well, he finally got the idea that I was not too happy being a third party in his effort at procreation. He dropped back down to all fours and trotted off into the mist. But the bugger kept up with us in that mist. All I could hear was the clip clop of his big hooves. And then he would pop out of the mist and try to mount the filly again. For about two miles this was repeated —him trying to satisfy his natural urges and me cussing in multiple languages and whacking him on the nose with my stetson while trying to keep the filly under control.
Finally the stallion gave up, and I and the filly eventually got back to the stable. After I dismounted, I asked the stable boys what was wrong with the filly. It seemed to me that she had been very poorly trained. It was only then that they admitted something to me. They told me that the filly was a race horse, a very good one. In fact, not long before, she had been the winner of a Grand Prix in the neighboring country. Well, gee, thanks, fellas, for not telling me this before.
But why in tarnation wouldn’t she obey the reins when given a command to stop? Then they gave me the rest of the story. She had been trained to stop on command for sure. But the only command to slow and stop to which she would respond was to reach a hand out and slap her hard between the ears!!! Great! Now why didn’t I think of that?!
I think that is the only ride I ever had in my life where I was sweating more than the horse at the end of it. I never rode that filly again. Whenever I went back to the stables, it always sort of looked like she was snickering at me. A poor Tom Mix I turned out to be!
And that great white stallion? I finally found where he belonged. He had broken out of his owner’s paddock and taken off into those woods. Then, one day, as the owner’s son was riding the stallion, they came to a junction in the main road. In that junction was a passing car. Instead of stopping or swerving, the stallion jumped and landed his forefeet right on the hood of the car. The big problem was that this car was a brand new Mercedes which belonged to the governor of the entire region. My, my, my. What doesn’t happen when you decide to climb up on a horse! A short while later an edict was issued. No more running of horses in the town. You had to walk then to the town limits. Then you could ride as fast as you wanted — if you knew how.
Animal Planet won. He runs the Preakness in 2 weeks along with others who ran in this Derby race.
Soon he can sit back and collect stud fees.
That is hilarious, Wolverine! There has to be a joke line in there somewhere….maybe having to do with the Grand Prix. Oh stop, MH!
I though it was funny that right after the whole “Where’s the beef” controversy with Taco Bell, YUM brands was CLEARLY the biggest sponsor of the horse race. Ahhh, now we know!