The First Time a Story of Vanity and Stupidity
I was reminded today of where I started while watching Quarter Horse racing at Ruidoso Downs, NM on TVG. I took a moment to sit back and just enjoy the sheer power and speed of Quarter Horse racing. It maybe over quick - but it's an amazing test of horse flesh.
You know from the last paragraph in The Topper entry that I have been severely into this business since before I was born. (if not - go read that paragraph and come back.)
All I ever wanted as a kid was to win a horse race. For many years I thought that would be as a jockey. If you know me closely you know that is frickin hilarious because I do not ride anymore. Not to mention of those people living on earth - only maybe 5-6 people have ever seen it happen - the last time in 1994. No I was never injured - I was never thrown and I was never afraid. That last NEVER causes me to think I'll be killed or worse - severely maimed one day. I wasn't very comfortable on the back of a horse. I'm so much better on the ground.
Anyway, for years people would ask that stupid question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" - I think that question is silly because those of us that don't ever grow up - never really know. But we'll dabble in a lot. I always said "a jockey," and my Dad would roll his eyes. I answered with Jockey for the last time during a trip to Sunland Park, NM. I think it was me and my Dad a good friend of his who had a horse running. We had dinner after the races at some place in El Paso, TX and I saw a little man with a giant creepily expanded chest that was probably 140 years old or 60. I asked our friend "what's wrong with him?" (being a kid of my parents at least I knew the difference between inside voice and outside voice so I did not offend him). The answer was "nothing, he's an old former cowboy/jockey."
That was it - I didn't need know what accident messed his body up - I knew that I didn't want to replicate it on my body. So then the new answer to the grow up question became "a vet" - which I had to change to "a veterinarian" because in our area there were maybe 5 vets at the time and when you said vet people thought military and I'd freak out because there was no way in hell I'd be shaving my head (do you know that I'm completely bald now? - all over via razor not lack of hair, well not complete lack of hair).
I learned all I could about what vets do - by looking in books at school really - not like I asked a vet. Then one day while giving my answer to someone at the track - they said, "oh well you can take care of all of us with all your money. Bill, I didn't know a kid of yours was smart enough to go through 8 years of college." First off - my Dad was smart and they were just being a smart ass. Second off - all 3 of his kids are smart and not a one was going to 8 years of college to prove it. Especially this one.
I was already tired of school and I wasn't even in the 8th grade yet. I kept thinking all day that day "I have 5 more years left of this crap and then 8 more years before I can start my life. I'll be old and it won't matter anymore." Old - 8 years after high school. I've been out more than 20 years now - and I have yet to reach old (if you think differently do not burst my bubble, keep it to yourself.)
My Dad then started asking me what I was going to do after school? What was I going to be when I grew up? If I didn't figure something out I might as well buy myself a lunch pale and go to work in the oil filed like him. I didn't see anything wrong with what he did. He was well respected and worked hard, made lots of money (I thought) and was happy. Not to mention on the side he was the Mayor of our town. I mean - that was everything right? No it wasn't apparently but when you suddenly have lost your ambition to be "something" when you grow up - Dad's life didn't look too bad.
Sometime by 8th grade I got my first horse that I mentioned before in one of the I Had No Idea entries. She was the world to me and I knew she would win the All-American Futurity. I had so much hope in that filly that I didn't realize there was luck, money, luck, ability and some luck involved in getting a horse to any race - much less that race. I was not to be denied (I was just in case you're trying to figure out which horse I won it with - I haven't yet). I spent all my time in class daydreaming of her name being called across the wire. I'm surprised I didn't go so far as to jump up and scream or cry or like Walter Matthau in Casey's Shadow "pee my pants" and then in trouble.
I managed to keep my grades up somewhat while waisting my time away planning Risky's career. Needless to say - she went to the track in Sunland and was very talented and never raced. She got some strange illness that basically came via hay from Mexico or beetles from Mexican hay or something. It caused her to not be able to breathe which is, according to anyone with brain, important when racing. One must breathe. I was devastated. My dreams were shot and now I'm in high school with no shot of having wealth and happiness from horse racing by the time I graduate. Oh god I'll have to work.
Risky had 2 foals for me - one was a mentally disabled psychotic filly named Blizzard Control. She was small 15.2 (small to me because for a QH Risky was big 16 hands) and she was fast and she was hateful from birth. I loved her. She didn't even care that I loved her. That's how mean she was. She was just like that girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead - HORRID. She made it all the way to her first "official" workout at The Downs at Albuquerque. Where she flipped in the gate after throwing the jockey out and very nearly destroyed the filly working with her.
I'm supporting this spawn of evil with my retail job that paid $4.80 an hour. No seriously and stop your laughing because I thought for sure as mean as this filly was she would outrun everything just to be able to make them feel shame and embarrassment. That workout ended it for her. I took her home and thought well maybe her sister - a year younger would be the one. I was sick of retail and didn't want to follow in my Dad's footsteps after all.
Her name was Nasty (actually it was Whathaveyoudoneforme) but I called her Nasty because Baby sounded stupid and What was even more stupid. All this due to Janet Jackson's album that came out when my high school mind was planning the matings to get these fillies. When Nasty was born in 1988 she had the worst legs I've ever seen on any horse. When I saw them - I thought it was the end for me and this horse world. Basically the reasoning was because she was huge. I don't really know why because she came from a long line (top and bottom) of regular everyday Quarter horses. Risky was a big mare - but Nasty topped out at 17 hands and 1400 lbs (that's after racing - don't get all freaked out). Thank goodness she was the kind and sweet - and not like her older sister of Satan.
I wondered if like most huge horses she would not be quick enough to run with the littler - and more normal body types. I wondered if she was destined to be an 870 yard runner. In her first start she was all over the place but still managed to finish 3rd in a 350 yard at San Juan Downs. I was able to get off work to go watch. I had to clock out and everything! I was on a giant cloud. My first horse to finally race - and she finished 3rd. 3RD. I mean that's so awesome. I could barely contain myself all the way back to the store to clock back in and work.
Her next few starts weren't so impressive and I wondered if maybe she was just luck the first out. But I could see she had talent. Her 5th start was on August 25th, 1990. It was a Saturday and I was off work. I picked up my cousin and my friend and met my parents and my grandmother at the track. As usual - I was near vomiting ever moment of the day. My Dad would say "you better never have a Thoroughbred because you don't breathe during the race - you just yell and nearly blackout." I tried to have a beer to calm my nerves (that does NOT work). I wasn't legal yet either. I was just months away.
It was ESPN day at the track. They had come via invitation because San Juan Downs was pretty new really and the marketing/publicity lady knew someone who knew Chris Lincoln or something and he was supposed to come. I wondered if my giant QH filly would be on ESPN.
They loaded them in the gate. I can still hear the announcer (mostly because I have played that video over and over). "And their they goooooooo" in a gruff happy voice. I loved that announcer. Nasty broke on top and I could hear cheers and a voice coming out of my body yelling "Come On Nasty." My cousin cheering along with me. People looking at us like we were weird because there's nothing in the program that rhymes with Nasty. "..and Speeding up along the inside is Whathaveyoudoneforme and Flo Jo 1988, Whathaveyoudoneformeeeeeeeee in front!" - I didn't cry or pee my pants. I jumped up and down hugging my cousin and looking for my parents who both hugged me. I finally knew what it was like to win a race and it was with a horse I bred and raised. We took the win picture - which is blown up bigger than life in my office. We didn't get on ESPN and I actually didn't even remember that they were there. I was beyond ecstatic - I still am reliving it in my head.
So yes, I had to keep my day job and I'm glad I did. It taught me a lot of what I ended up needing down the road. I ended up not going to college but I didn't work in the oil field either. I came here to Lexington and shaved my head.
You want to know what surprises most people - I was that happy for winning a $1200 maiden special weight. Meaning - I got $720. I thought to myself - the way I felt at that moment had her mother won the All American Futurity - I would have died on the spot. So I was spared! Nasty went on to win one more time for me as a 3-year-old (a $1600 allowance y'all). The best feeling ever. I can still watch the videos and feel how I did then.
And that is why we do this.
You know from the last paragraph in The Topper entry that I have been severely into this business since before I was born. (if not - go read that paragraph and come back.)
All I ever wanted as a kid was to win a horse race. For many years I thought that would be as a jockey. If you know me closely you know that is frickin hilarious because I do not ride anymore. Not to mention of those people living on earth - only maybe 5-6 people have ever seen it happen - the last time in 1994. No I was never injured - I was never thrown and I was never afraid. That last NEVER causes me to think I'll be killed or worse - severely maimed one day. I wasn't very comfortable on the back of a horse. I'm so much better on the ground.
Anyway, for years people would ask that stupid question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" - I think that question is silly because those of us that don't ever grow up - never really know. But we'll dabble in a lot. I always said "a jockey," and my Dad would roll his eyes. I answered with Jockey for the last time during a trip to Sunland Park, NM. I think it was me and my Dad a good friend of his who had a horse running. We had dinner after the races at some place in El Paso, TX and I saw a little man with a giant creepily expanded chest that was probably 140 years old or 60. I asked our friend "what's wrong with him?" (being a kid of my parents at least I knew the difference between inside voice and outside voice so I did not offend him). The answer was "nothing, he's an old former cowboy/jockey."
That was it - I didn't need know what accident messed his body up - I knew that I didn't want to replicate it on my body. So then the new answer to the grow up question became "a vet" - which I had to change to "a veterinarian" because in our area there were maybe 5 vets at the time and when you said vet people thought military and I'd freak out because there was no way in hell I'd be shaving my head (do you know that I'm completely bald now? - all over via razor not lack of hair, well not complete lack of hair).
I learned all I could about what vets do - by looking in books at school really - not like I asked a vet. Then one day while giving my answer to someone at the track - they said, "oh well you can take care of all of us with all your money. Bill, I didn't know a kid of yours was smart enough to go through 8 years of college." First off - my Dad was smart and they were just being a smart ass. Second off - all 3 of his kids are smart and not a one was going to 8 years of college to prove it. Especially this one.
I was already tired of school and I wasn't even in the 8th grade yet. I kept thinking all day that day "I have 5 more years left of this crap and then 8 more years before I can start my life. I'll be old and it won't matter anymore." Old - 8 years after high school. I've been out more than 20 years now - and I have yet to reach old (if you think differently do not burst my bubble, keep it to yourself.)
My Dad then started asking me what I was going to do after school? What was I going to be when I grew up? If I didn't figure something out I might as well buy myself a lunch pale and go to work in the oil filed like him. I didn't see anything wrong with what he did. He was well respected and worked hard, made lots of money (I thought) and was happy. Not to mention on the side he was the Mayor of our town. I mean - that was everything right? No it wasn't apparently but when you suddenly have lost your ambition to be "something" when you grow up - Dad's life didn't look too bad.
Sometime by 8th grade I got my first horse that I mentioned before in one of the I Had No Idea entries. She was the world to me and I knew she would win the All-American Futurity. I had so much hope in that filly that I didn't realize there was luck, money, luck, ability and some luck involved in getting a horse to any race - much less that race. I was not to be denied (I was just in case you're trying to figure out which horse I won it with - I haven't yet). I spent all my time in class daydreaming of her name being called across the wire. I'm surprised I didn't go so far as to jump up and scream or cry or like Walter Matthau in Casey's Shadow "pee my pants" and then in trouble.
I managed to keep my grades up somewhat while waisting my time away planning Risky's career. Needless to say - she went to the track in Sunland and was very talented and never raced. She got some strange illness that basically came via hay from Mexico or beetles from Mexican hay or something. It caused her to not be able to breathe which is, according to anyone with brain, important when racing. One must breathe. I was devastated. My dreams were shot and now I'm in high school with no shot of having wealth and happiness from horse racing by the time I graduate. Oh god I'll have to work.
Risky had 2 foals for me - one was a mentally disabled psychotic filly named Blizzard Control. She was small 15.2 (small to me because for a QH Risky was big 16 hands) and she was fast and she was hateful from birth. I loved her. She didn't even care that I loved her. That's how mean she was. She was just like that girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead - HORRID. She made it all the way to her first "official" workout at The Downs at Albuquerque. Where she flipped in the gate after throwing the jockey out and very nearly destroyed the filly working with her.
I'm supporting this spawn of evil with my retail job that paid $4.80 an hour. No seriously and stop your laughing because I thought for sure as mean as this filly was she would outrun everything just to be able to make them feel shame and embarrassment. That workout ended it for her. I took her home and thought well maybe her sister - a year younger would be the one. I was sick of retail and didn't want to follow in my Dad's footsteps after all.
Her name was Nasty (actually it was Whathaveyoudoneforme) but I called her Nasty because Baby sounded stupid and What was even more stupid. All this due to Janet Jackson's album that came out when my high school mind was planning the matings to get these fillies. When Nasty was born in 1988 she had the worst legs I've ever seen on any horse. When I saw them - I thought it was the end for me and this horse world. Basically the reasoning was because she was huge. I don't really know why because she came from a long line (top and bottom) of regular everyday Quarter horses. Risky was a big mare - but Nasty topped out at 17 hands and 1400 lbs (that's after racing - don't get all freaked out). Thank goodness she was the kind and sweet - and not like her older sister of Satan.
I wondered if like most huge horses she would not be quick enough to run with the littler - and more normal body types. I wondered if she was destined to be an 870 yard runner. In her first start she was all over the place but still managed to finish 3rd in a 350 yard at San Juan Downs. I was able to get off work to go watch. I had to clock out and everything! I was on a giant cloud. My first horse to finally race - and she finished 3rd. 3RD. I mean that's so awesome. I could barely contain myself all the way back to the store to clock back in and work.
Her next few starts weren't so impressive and I wondered if maybe she was just luck the first out. But I could see she had talent. Her 5th start was on August 25th, 1990. It was a Saturday and I was off work. I picked up my cousin and my friend and met my parents and my grandmother at the track. As usual - I was near vomiting ever moment of the day. My Dad would say "you better never have a Thoroughbred because you don't breathe during the race - you just yell and nearly blackout." I tried to have a beer to calm my nerves (that does NOT work). I wasn't legal yet either. I was just months away.
It was ESPN day at the track. They had come via invitation because San Juan Downs was pretty new really and the marketing/publicity lady knew someone who knew Chris Lincoln or something and he was supposed to come. I wondered if my giant QH filly would be on ESPN.
They loaded them in the gate. I can still hear the announcer (mostly because I have played that video over and over). "And their they goooooooo" in a gruff happy voice. I loved that announcer. Nasty broke on top and I could hear cheers and a voice coming out of my body yelling "Come On Nasty." My cousin cheering along with me. People looking at us like we were weird because there's nothing in the program that rhymes with Nasty. "..and Speeding up along the inside is Whathaveyoudoneforme and Flo Jo 1988, Whathaveyoudoneformeeeeeeeee in front!" - I didn't cry or pee my pants. I jumped up and down hugging my cousin and looking for my parents who both hugged me. I finally knew what it was like to win a race and it was with a horse I bred and raised. We took the win picture - which is blown up bigger than life in my office. We didn't get on ESPN and I actually didn't even remember that they were there. I was beyond ecstatic - I still am reliving it in my head.
So yes, I had to keep my day job and I'm glad I did. It taught me a lot of what I ended up needing down the road. I ended up not going to college but I didn't work in the oil field either. I came here to Lexington and shaved my head.
You want to know what surprises most people - I was that happy for winning a $1200 maiden special weight. Meaning - I got $720. I thought to myself - the way I felt at that moment had her mother won the All American Futurity - I would have died on the spot. So I was spared! Nasty went on to win one more time for me as a 3-year-old (a $1600 allowance y'all). The best feeling ever. I can still watch the videos and feel how I did then.
And that is why we do this.
I have Nasty's winner circle picture in my office!
Thanks for writing these! I guess I didn't really realize how much I missed you! You keep making me laugh and cry!
Cyber Hugs!
Deej
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