A friend of mine invited me to opening day at the Del Mar race track. “Look at my hat!” she enthused, modeling her new chapeau and talking about how excited she was to see the hat contest, a Del Mar tradition.
I declined. “It’s horse racing. I don’t like to support that.”
She rolled her eyes in one of those here-she-goes-again faces. “It’s more about the hats,” she insisted. “You don’t have to bet on anything.”
I love hats, I really do. But I dislike the racing industry more. Few people who flock to the spectacle know- or, truth be told, care- about the ugly realities of the business. These horses don’t live an idyllic Black Beauty sort of existence. The very same friend who was enthralled by the glamour of the hat contest owns a rescue greyhound that was adopted from a racetrack in Mexico and talks in hushed tones of his sad past life. I don’t get it.
Last year, Del Mar debuted a new track to much fanfare, designed to reduce the number of fatal injuries during the racing season. The excitement was short-lived. So far this year, seven horses have been euthanized, almost as many as during the entire season last year. This season started July 19th.
I won’t go so far as to criticize those who go to the races, but it’s fair to say that for me, it’s not an enjoyable experience and one I don’t care to repeat. I did go, once, about 12 years ago. Not my thing.
My friend was there, watching, when Mi Rey fell on his jockey in front of the grandstand. The jockey survived. Mi Rey did not. She called me after and said, “I’m glad you didn’t go.”
Me too.
I think that’s the one reason I love going to Keeneland. Because most of the horses that race there are local and are pampered. Even the farm’s ducks have pond houses that are bigger than my house. But after losing Barbaro and Eight Belles they definitely need to do something for making the track safer (which Keeneland did with Polytrac).
That’s heartbreaking about Mi Rey. 🙁
Sigh.
I used to ride retired racehorses. Some of them were spoiled rotten, but the majority had not had the best of life so far. One, I remember, was mean and aggressive when you were on the ground – but a dream once you were on her back. She moved beautifully, and I never understood why anyone would dream of hurting (mentally or physically) such a beautiful animal.
Friends here often want to go to the track. My mother in-law likes to go for Mother’s Day brunch. I refuse, and instead donate to the local retired racehorse farm.
I couldn’t agree with you more. I had people studying to be equine vets in school that were horse lovers, and I simply couldn’t understand…
I’m such a hypocrite. I love going to the race track – I love watching the grace and strength of these magnificent creatures, but I hate the politics and cruelty of the sport. I also associate going to the races with some of the happier parts of my childhood (my mom would take me out of school and we’d go to Santa Anita so I could play on the playground there). Reading the Vanity Fair article on Barbaro had me reduce to a pile of blathering tears … I know it’s cruel. I know his fate is not uncommon. And yet, I am enthralled with the sport.