By Tony Bada Bing
Not sure what it is about the days following the Kentucky
Derby and Breeders’ Cup, but my head, my heart and even my stomach feel like a
drank copious amounts of bourbon, tequila or even wine coolers – remember
those? Maybe it’s due to really never coming out ahead? Maybe it’s the missed
opportunities like say, Mizdirection (I liked), Trinniberg (who I really liked)
and Little Mike (who I figured only had to run 10 furlongs since the first few were downhill)? Maybe it’s my frustration including such horses in exotic
wagers without ever cashing in on them?
Regardless, I’ve woken up feeling groggy and a bit tapped
out. Being a somewhat dedicated horse player as well as a dad and husband means
handicapping late at night after the kids have gone to bed, leaving the raked
leaves in a pile – not good for the spousal relationship – and even watching
the races during my son’s playoff soccer games yesterday. You may think,
"Really, Bada Bing?” just as my wife did, when she called seeking dinner
plans during the Filly Juvenile Turf on Friday, and I declined to take the
call, watching the race from the soccer field parking lot on my IPhone.
Speaking of “the Mrs.” she even tolerated me watching the
Classic from the bar during our date night on Saturday. She was rooting for me
in my final play, which only needed a win from Game on Dude to cash a last gasp
Pick 3 try. After I, of course misfired again, she tagged me Tony Nada Bing.
Thanks babe. It’s good to laugh at oneself, especially when your wife of more
than 15 years hits the nail on the head.
By the way I didn’t cash all weekend, which usually makes me
feel like never laying down another bet for the rest of my life. The drinker’s
lament, if I ever heard one, but instead of swearing off mixing beer and the
hard stuff, I’m left thinking, “Why the #$&* am I trying to string three
races together when I can’t even hit one?”
So here I sit early Sunday morning, actually real early
since the clock was turned back an hour and such changes in time mean my
three-year-old got up at 4:55, instead of 5:55. I tried making cinnamon buns
and coffee to shake the after drinking, I mean, after betting blahs away. It
On the bright side, I didn’t begin my morning by praying to
the porcelain god or waking up wondering how I got home – hypothetically
speaking that is. Today is a new day to make a stand and swear the stuff off
for good. This, as we know, is mere folly, but with not much on the schedule as far
as big races, at least I have a few weeks to lick my wounds before setting my
sights on those Derby hopefuls.
Anyone offering any action on Shanghai Bobby’s Derby