That time I went to the derby Part 1

4 May 2008

Its kind of amazing how you can feel such relief for one month being over and a new one starting. April was a rough month and for the most part an adventure drought. All I can say is "Thank God for May"

This past weekend, Kyle and I were heading down the the Derby, so we made a pit stop in Oxford Friday night. We pretty much set the town on fire, I am not going to regale you with the story because I don't want to ruin your image of me as a sweet dude. The next morning we woke up on Paige's floor. After much groaning and some wide mouth Aquafina's we were on the road to Louisville and the 134th Kentucky Derby.

2 hours later, and probably 3 hours after we said we'd be there, we pull up to J-mo's house, put in a hug and a hello to with parents and jump into his mom's van. Within 10 minutes we have reached our tailgating destination.





Almost before putting the van in park, it's time for Mint Juleps with homemade mint syrup from hand picked mint. Them southerners can throw one hell of a parking lot party. More bourbon flows throughout the day as well as many games of Thunderstruck with random passersby. As we begin to run low on beer Jamie and McHugh prepare for our day in the infield by filling ziplock bags with Bourbon and duct taping them where they won't be patted by security. In years prior, Jamie has done the same, but with a female accomplice and an over-sized bra. This year the one girl brave enough to come along didn't have a whole lot of room to spare up there so flies and thighs it was.

Just as we began to wonder how we were going to get from the lot to the Derb, a guy in a 15 passenger van pulls up to our party and tells us that for $30 and a joint he can get us to the track. I never saw the joint nor were we offered a hit so that part of the deal may have fallen through.

As soon as Jmo and McHugh sat down, their ziplock flasks sprouted leaks, but did not explode. I took it upon myself to make sure the no more bourbon was wasted and soon the others pitched in to help.

At some point between the parking lot and scalping a ticket, my phone died. "It's cool," I figure, "we'll just stay together..." Jamie and I go in through the gate and while we are in line ready to post, it's time for me to pee, again. So I let him know not to move until I get back.

When I returned to the line, Jmo was no where to be found. All alone, and in the middle of 100,000 people and there I am without a cell phone. Instead of worrying about it and trying to find my buddies in this sloppy mob, I figured I would watch the races now and find them later.

Somehow, the pass that I scalped was an All-Access pass, meaning that I was able to go hang out in Sodom; I mean the In-Field, but I could also go back to the stables and watch the races from that side. I ended up going through the stables admiring the giant horses and trying to pump them up with songs from the Rock Soundtrack, "Eye of the Tiger," "Gonna Fly Now." After a minute or so one of the trainers told me to go the hell away. I guess that the Rocky movies do not have the same motivating effect on horses as they do on me.

For the rest of the afternoon until race time, I found myself in the middle of a Fiesta. Mexican music and dancing, grilled chicken and beef for fajitas, all the churros I could eat and muchos cervezas. As race time drew nearer, I began inching closer and closer to the track until I got to a ramp. I finagled my way up to the top and could see the amazing site of the Grandstand, packed to capacity across the way. Finally, at the top of the viewing deck, someone handed me a beer and we had a conversation about the Derby and the horses and who we bet on. When I turned around and began paying attention to where I was standing I almost fell over. Its a good thing I didn't because I would have fallen right onto the track. Everyone told me that if you are going to the Kentucky Derby, don't plan on seeing any horses. That may be true for most people, but I went to the Kentucky Derby and ended up with a front row seat.



My spot was a deck right after the second turn. Seconds after the familiar bugle tune, a brown blur sped by and it was to the screens for the finish. In almost no time at all the horses were back around the second turn slowing down to a stop. Except one. One horse came bounding around and with a harsh face-plant threw its jockey. Trucks and vans came onto the track and finally a curtain was place around the tent.

I am not sure the In-Field knew what was happening, but my side of the track sat in silence as they put Eight Bells down.