Thursday, April 26, 2007

Make It Exotic

One of the reasons that Q and I get along so well is that we understand each other. I understand that he will always valet rather than walk from the parking lot at the horse track, and he understands that I will always be enraptured by the tic-tac-toe playing chicken that is on display in the front of Louisiana Downs.

If you beat her you win $10. I've never seen anyone beat that chicken. She takes her time and strategizes. She's good. Still people will lineup and wait for 45 minutes just for the chance to win $10. I've never played her. I would, but I hate standing in lines. There is almost nothing in the world that I will wait in line more than five minutes for.

I tried to explain, in very basic terms, wagering on horse racing to my daughter the other day (because I'm a good parent). She asked how much you get if the horse you pick wins the race. "Well it all depends," I told her. "If you bet on the horse that appears to be the best and everyone expects to win then you might bet $2 and win $3.20." "Then what's the point?" she asked. This is pretty much the same philosophy that Q and I have when placing wagers.

We almost never make a win, place, or show bet. It isn't worth placing the bet if you can't win significantly more then you wager. We wager exotics. Exactas, Trifectas, and Superfectas. That way you can turn your two dollar wager into big money. Of course, this isn't the end result most times but I would still say that Q and I are pretty good. We've both hit some decent pay days and are normally very close.

The worst was a time I was at the track with my mom and Q. My trifecta was about to hit when the second place horse broke it's leg five feet from the finish line. It fell and threw it's rider. The entire crowd groaned as the horse flailed around in obvious pain with it's useless leg until handler's could get out to it. I haven't gone back out to the track with my mom since. I'm not blaming my mom, but I'd feel terrible if her counter karma caused another poor horse to die.

This is not a picture of my mom.