Post Time

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Author’s Note:  This post is dedicated to the great Phil Georgeff.

A couple of Sundays ago I spent the day at Arlington Park.

The last time I was there it had to be 1986.  We ran into our waiters from Gene and Georgetti’s- those guys always went to the track- and they gave me some of their $2 bills for Natasha and Nick.

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That’s thirty years between races.  It was more than time for “Riders Up!”

I was pretty excited about my Day At The Races.

But not as excited as Kenny and Nick.

“You’re going to Arlington? Nice!  I want a quinella with the numbers 1,4, and 5.  Any race you choose,” instructed Kenny the Horse.

“You’re going to the track, Dude?  Cool. Put some money down for me.  I’ll get back to you after I look at the Racing Form,” directed Nicky Detroit.

The day dawned hot and clear.  It was going to be a fast track.

We found our box at the finish line, my companion went to place his- and Kenny and Nick’s- bets and I settled in to enjoy the view and peruse the menu.

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Suddenly I got a text message from him.

“You don’t want anything on Be Nice Coach?”

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He was right.  I had forgotten that I wanted to bet on that horse.  I liked his name.

I texted back.

“Put $2 on him to win.”

“K”

And then I texted:

abb59c12573da0f94c0b97643e7d0736  a70946442467c2a47452152dfc3fb533 54012f6264942f32f27114f45068fb87 search-1

I was just tucking in to my yummy, delivered-to-the-box turkey sandwich when my gentleman caller reappeared.

And then they were off!

It was exciting.  The horses flew by in a whir of color.  The crown roared.  I took a photo.

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“You won!” said my racing enthusiast happily informed me.

Huh?

“Your horse won!  Nice going.”

I was in shock.

“I did?”

I couldn’t believe it.

“How much did I win?” I asked numbly.

“$18.40. ”

Nice.

Just call me Nicely-Nicely Ross.

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Kenny’s quinella bombed out.

And he turned out to be a sore loser.  He saw this photo and said I looked like a “four thousand dollar claimer.”

He also demanded to see a photo of his losing ticket.

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Nick’s pick tank, too.

Shucks. Beginner’s Luck.

And if you’re going to the track, Dear Readers…

I’ve got a horse right here…

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9 Responses to Post Time

  1. Very Runyonesque, Ellen.

    Reminds me of a puzzle from several years ago: Damon’s Demons. I bet you’ll like it!

  2. Ellen, your post also reminds me of one of my favorite jokes. Rather than type it from scratch, I found this version on the internet and have edited it slightly. Not exactly the way that I would tell it, but close enough.

    On a very windy day, a rabbi was walking along when a strong gust of wind blew his hat off his head. The rabbi ran after the hat, but the wind was too strong. It kept blowing his hat farther and farther away.

    A non-Jewish young man, seeing what had happened, ran after the hat, caught it and gave it back to the rabbi. The rabbi was so grateful that he gave the young man 20 dollars and blessed him.

    The young man was so excited that he decided to go the race track and with the rabbi’s blessing, he decided to check the program and place the entire 20 dollars on a horse. After the races he went home and recounted his very exciting day to his father.

    “I arrived at the fifth race and looked at the program. I saw this horse named ‘Top Hat’ was running. The odds on this horse were 100 to 1 but since I received the rabbi’s blessing I bet the entire 20 dollars on ‘Top Hat’ and guess what? He won!”

    “In the next race, there was a horse named ‘Stetson’ at 30 to 1 so I bet the entire amount of my winnings on him, and guess what … I won again!”

    “So did you bring the money home?” asked his father.

    “No,” said the son, “I lost it all on the last race. There was a horse named ‘Chateau’ that was a heavy favorite so I bet everything on him, and since ‘Chateau’ means ‘hat’ in French, I figured he was a sure thing.”

    “You fool!” said the father. “Hat in French is ‘chapeau,’ not ‘chateau!'” Exasperated, his father then asked, “So who won the race?”

    “A real long shot,” said the son. “Some Japanese horse named ‘Yarmulke’!”

  3. Ken Roffe says:

    145 has been lucky for me. MooMoo taught how to play the Ponies at Arlington when I was 8! Just seeing those silks🏇 brings a tear to me eye😂

  4. David B Brode says:

    Grew-up at Arlington. Phil my 2nd dad. The best. Simply, the best. For some of us they’ll be forever ‘spinning out of the turn’.

  5. joan arenberg says:

    Dear Ellen:” Since I cannot read the plug-oins because they are blocked (old computers will do that) and your closing sentence on the blog seemed to say something about having the horse right here … ANY CHANCE HIS NAME WAS/IS PAUL REVERE.
    bad joke, but not such bad timing.
    Joan

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