Tales from the Backside Kitchen

The moral of this story is never sit in on an impromptu poker game in the backstretch kitchen.  As I type this, I am envisioning a small posse of small people running frantically from barn to barn – then hotel to hotel – hoping to run across that ‘Yankee reporter’ that owes one or more of them money, lots of money.

It all started with an innocent omelet at the backstretch kitchen earlier this morning.  The sun was shining as it promises to do this coming Saturday for the TREE DREAM Race, an eight furlong affair run on the dirt showcasing some of the up and coming two year old fillies and mares.  The kitchen, as I have stated, was located on the backstretch, the backstretch was located at the track, and the track was located in Malaysia.  I was in the kitchen to eat, but to also see if I could find an inside scoop on the runners for the sixteenth race. 

I noticed in the corner, jockeys D. Doughty, R. Wilhite, D. Ledwith, and H. O’Connell all sitting around a table and what appeared to be cards and chips.  This was my chance I thought, a little innocent poker and a great chance to pick the brains of four of the riders for the upcoming $75,000 stakes race I needed to preview.

‘Gentlemen,’ I said as striding up to the table, ‘put me in for $10,000 – stake me if you will – I’ll get an advance on my BTB credit card later today to even up.’ 

Now novice readers may think to themselves that’s quire a chunk of change for a pick up poker game.  And I may be inclined to agree.  But these are stakes level jockeys we are talking about, they do not deal with chump change and I needed to make quick impression if I was to pick their brains.  Additionally, this is gambling taking place at a race track, and there is no other place on earth that attracts a more degenerative gambler than the local track.  So to secure the attention of all, a demand for ten large was a must.

The tactic worked, and the foursome seemed very interested in this new face that suddenly demanded to be dealt in and required excessive cash.  Chips were thrown, cards were tossed, bets were made, and the conversation that ensued was thus:

‘Where are you from?’ asked R. Wilhite.

‘The States,’ was my reply.  ‘Let me level with you up front, I need information about your rides for the sixteenth on Saturday.  My editors have threatened a thorough beating with the cane if I don’t come up with good material on your runners.  For example Wilhite, I see you are up on upperhand2’s RENEGADE’S MAGIC (AUS).  Being that this is your second ride on this mare, your first being a win in the six furlong BILLY BOWDEN Stakes at this same track, what is your opinion in riding an extra quarter mile this time?’

‘I have no opinion on my rides,’ was his reply.  ‘I raise $100.’

This was going to be more difficult that I first anticipated.  I figured that the only way to fight this hard line approach was to be irrational. 

‘I raise you to $1,000,’  was my response.  The goal was to shock the group into speaking.  ‘So Wilhite, you have no concern about another quarter of a mile for your runner?  The extra distance may benefit the chestnut mare as she attempts to close on the leaders from the mid-back or back of the pack.’

Shocked at my raise, the stupid bet seemed to pay off on information.  ‘I’ve no concern about this distance,’ Wilhite responded.  ‘I’m riding the only stakes winner in the field, a horse that has yet to lose on the dirt, and one that has shown nothing but a strong kick at the end of the runs.  I call.’

He what! He called my ridiculous raise.  Oh well, the game was young and his kings easily beat my ace high.  But at this rate of one thousand per runner for information, things looked to get a little expensive.  Perhaps a different tactic could work for the others.

‘Doughty,’ I exclaimed, ‘why so down?’

Just then a voice from across the room yelled at me, ‘You’d be down too you ignorant Yank if you were riding a horse named WHY DO WE DIE (KY) for a trainer called ih8u.’  It came from F. Foster, rider of the race favorite, XTRA BRILLIANT (KY), trained by ejdstable.  I was familiar with this brown mare.  XTRA BRILLIANT has placed in the money in three of her first four starts with a single win at six furlongs.  Her last race was a gaming effort in the G2 – Red Fish, Blue Fish Stakes where she finished fifth.  The horse has shown a desire to fall off the pace early and catch the leaders with a second half charge, but in her only win she broke to the front and pulled away in the second half.  I wonder what F. Foster was planning to do, just then. . .

‘Pay no attention to Foster,’ said H. O’Connell, ‘he’s still bitter his brother Stephen got all the credit for discovering the Camp Town Races and being mentioned in Tombstone.  Anyhow, you want to know about the runners for the sixteenth?  Well, you probably know that I am up on pjlstables’ CREATES (KY).  What you may not know is that this brown mare is the only runner in the field to race the mile thus far.  And she won that race too.  Mainly, this mare enjoys lurking around the middle of the pack before making a move to the front at the mid point of the race.  It appears that my straight is going to beat you two pair.’

The loss did not affect me, it was only the BTB’s money, I went back to D. Doughty, ‘So what say you D?  Surely you are not upset with the quality of mare you have been assigned to in the sixteenth this Saturday?  WHY DO WE DIE, while an upsetting name, has posted the best speed rating of all the competition with an impressive 81 SP in her last start (an allowance at 7f).  And the brown mare has shown closing speed at both the mid point of runs and at the stretch.  In fact, her last win showed an impressive second kick at the top of the stretch to gain that victory.’

Doughty ignored me, pretending to concentrate on his cards.  I wondered if his concern was his ride’s first start along the rail or if it was something deeper.  Just when he appeared to be about to speak, the door opened and in entered jockey M. Bang.

‘I’ve heard of white bread, and wheat bread, and rye bread, but I’ve never heard of ran dumb . . . ‘ muttered M. Bang and he wandered over to the table.  ‘Deal me in.’

‘What’s with the muttering?’ asked D. Ledwith.

‘Well,’ began Bang, ‘I’ve just finished a two hour conversation with the trainer of the horse I’m riding in the sixteenth, southern.  Southern is the trainer, not the horse.  Talk about a talker.  All I heard for over one hundred and twenty minutes is how he taught himself everything there is to know about thoroughbred racing and that the only mentor he ever had was his own conscience, and all the successes he has had was because of his superior training ability, and on and on and on.  And all the while he was talking; I just couldn’t stop thinking why he named his horse RAN DUMB BREAD (ENG).  Heck, southern didn’t even bother to tell me that this chestnut mare is coming off of a nice seven furlong win in her last start.  Failed to mention that the 20/1 odds don’t bother him as this horse has won with 53/1 odds all ready.  And he did not touch on her running style of breaking near the front and pulling away in the second half.  Of course if you ask me, I suspect that this mare is more of a mid-pack closer, but she hasn’t shied from the front when given to her out of the gate.  In fact, that is how she has won her tow races.’

‘Well that was an interesting story,’ said Ledwith as he raked more of my chips toward him.  ‘things don’t look so good for you Yank, how much did you say that card could get you?’ 

‘Don’t concern yourself with my finances,’ I replied.  ‘My editors pay top dollar for a good story.  Ten thousand is chump change when it comes to these power brokers.  It is a small price to pay for the truth.’  Of course I was lying.  Snowchief threatened to beat me with a cane for sure, but it had nothing to do with the story quality and everything to do with an outrageous expense report from France last week.  But I was not about to let these guys know this.

‘So then,’ continued Ledwith, ‘I suppose you want to hear about my ride for this upcoming race.  Trainer cowtown has me up on the brown mare, KARIS SEKIGUCHI (KY).  I do know that this mare has not missed the board in here three lifetime starts with the last being a second in the SERIOUSLY RECOUP MEMORIAL.  I also know that she prefers to drift to the head of the mid-pack early in the race and kick during the second half of the run to catch the leaders.  The past two starts, both seconds, she has fallen short of a front runner and a stronger closer.  She has shown a speed bust at times during the stretch, but has not been able to sustain it that long.  And that’s all I know about her.  Appears that you’ve lost yet again.’

That final statement was directed toward me as Ledwith raked in my final chips from the ten thousand dollar loan I demanded.

‘No worries,’ I said getting up from the table, ‘I’ve all the information I need for now.  I will get that money I owe you and catch up with you all after the sixteenth race on Saturday.  Of course I will be here, my editors demand ‘total coverage.’’

Of course I was lying again.  I actually got up from the table, told the cook to put my omelet on F. Foster’s tab, and left the backstretch kitchen.  Then I left the track itself.  Then I left the country entirely.  You see, I had no intention of paying for anything.  I figure, there are eighty nine tracks in this sim to cover, why not pull a vicious burn on one of them?  Who cares if I can never return to Malaysia, there are eighty-eight other tracks that believe I have full credit and credentials.  In fact, I’m on a flight to another one of those fine tracks as I type this, Newmarket I believe.

As for the TREE DREAM Race, I envision WHY DO WE DIE outlasting RENEGADE’S MAGIC and XTRA BRILLIANT in a mad dash to the finish between these three closers.  They will be passing KARIS SEKIGUCHI and RAN DUMB BREAD along the way.  CREATES is somewhat of a mystery to me, but I predict the girl will fall short of the other three closers and end up forth.  Maybe I’ll wire these hot tips to the jockeys in the sixteenth to help the poor boys recoup some of that ten grand.