Nestled into the end of October, days before Halloween and thick into the most exciting time in baseball, lies the Breeders Cup. On October 26th and 27th, at Monmouth Park Racetrack in
Oceanport, New Jersey, Breeders Cup tickets are the only ticket worth having. It’s at the Breeders Cup that the thin veneer of civilization is removed from the equestrian world and the racing gets down and dirty.
What you’ll see are fanatical owners, trainers, and jockey all waging war to have their animal declared the best in its class. What’s at stake? Millions in prizes, gazillions in stud fees, and bragging rights for the filthy rich dished out like caviar and Krystal on a Saudi Arabian mega yacht. Yes, the Breeders Cup is as close to warfare as you can get without strapping on Kevlar and taking a C-130 into the dark heart of
Iraq. Make no mistake, the behind the scenes action is fast and furious as each rider spends hours mulling over race strategy, his opponents strong and weak points, and the possibility of sneak attack. A sordid undercurrent to be sure.
But hey, that’s life in the big city. For me the Breeders Cup is a chance to drink good whiskey, schmooze with the fabulously rich (who believe me to be charmingly boorish) and maybe take home enough winnings to keep Eric junior in Skol. Forget the fact that I’ll never be rich enough to own a racehorse, or any horse for that matter. It will do me good to boo that pampered million dollar pile of glue when he crosses the finish line trailing the pack and leaves me cursing eloquently at my Uncle Dale’s total ignorance of horseflesh. So join me. Latch on to your own Breeders Cup tickets and let’s meet up. The first round is on me. After that you’re on your own.