16 May 2011

A Drunken Volcano

I was taking in the quarter horse races from Texas, the Canucks were losing 2-1 and I was hoping they would not turn it around, when Sonja came in from running the Hammer around the back garden.

"The whole town just erupted like a drunken volcano. The Canucks must have scored," she said.  All our windows are shut tight to keep out the cold so I did not hear a thing. My whole God-crazy town is pissed to the gills and it is only the beginning of the third round. If I did not have any money bet against them I might have even given a beer shit about the goal. Then came the next one and it was all over at just about the same time the last race of a warm Texas night ran.

The Texas quarter horse races look to be run by the fucking Mexicans. Mexicans are more honest than most of the people you see around Dope City, most of whom would kill you to make the next payment on the 450 square foot rat hole they call home and burn your bones on top of that monument to the Olympic games the city does not want everybody pissing on down by the waterfront.

When you are seeing the game of horse racing, really seeing it, you usually can do nothing wrong and you have to take advantage of it before your alacrity fucks off on you and hides someplace even better than the motherfucking Pakistani secret police would have hid it. ("Why are you accusing us? We are your friends. Buddy-buddy!") I had never bet more than the odd quarter horse race before. I have bet mules, Appaloosas, Arabians  - not dogs - but never the quarters. I have read about them, knew roughly how to go about it.

Hit the first one of the second half of the card I tried, paid pretty good; lost several by the hundreds of seconds that separate the explosive stock that run in these races. Hit the last race, a maiden dash, with a horse running at just about 10-1. Figured I was just about as happy as the average Canuck fan after that.

When I began playing the races, a long time ago, I hoped I might just get good at it when I got old enough to retire. It takes time to learn what kind of races you are good at and what angles to use when you play them. That way I will be able to afford to pay for a lot of rub 'n' tug when Sonja starts questioning more seriously what is left of my waning sexual appeal.

Preakness goes next week. Good racing at Dope City Downs too. Always is. Cannot win if you are not in.

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