Maybe I’m just getting a little sentimental, because I didn’t think much about ever going back, but now that the Kentucky Derby is upon us again, I’m kind of missing the time I spent there last year. Even the torrential rains, the random lightning, more torrential rains, ominous clouds, even more rain, some hail and then ankle-deep mud for the walk back to the car, I’m missing it.

Off the top of my head, and just to say “I told you so”, or, more appropriately, “Yep, Tony was way off on that predicting thing again”… here’s my trifecta (boxed, of course, but only if I have to) for tomorrow’s Run for the Roses:

High Limit
Bellamy Road
Afleet Alex

If you want more accuracy, just ask my brother who he would have picked Thursday afternoon, and go with that. Even if he tells you a different horse now, take the first one.

To recap:

Last Sunday: “Hey, put $20 on the #6 horse, no matter who it is. Six is my number, and it worked last year. 20 bucks on 6.”

Wednesday: He calls and wakes me up from a much needed nap to tell me he’ll call me later or tomorrow, that the 6 horse is a no go and he wants to see actual post positions.

Friday 10am: “20 bucks on Smarty Jones for the win.”

Friday 1:30pm, again waking me up from a much needed nap: “I’m changing my bet. $20 on Tapit to win, and if you can cover it, make it 40, my sales manager wants in on it, too.”

Friday 3pm, I call back to make sure I wasn’t dreaming that he was changing his horse. It was for real. 20 on the egg eating, Guinness drinking Tapit to win.

Saturday 6:30pm I notice I have two voicemails waiting, and no way to check them thanks to rain and a jammed network at the track.

Sunday 10am EST (while you folks in the east were enjoying daylight savings time, I’m in Indiana trying to figure out which clock is right.), I check my voicemails. First is from Pete, who lost a boxed trifecta with me of Smarty Jones-Tapit-Barrego, at 6:06PM, 2 minutes before post time. “Hey, its Pete, just getting ready to watch the Derby, called to check on our bet. It looks like a muddy track, hope you’re staying dry!” If modern technology would let me reach through a cellular network and slap someone like a Stooge, I would have done it.

…

But on to the second voicemail. Little brother lets fly a string of expletives that would make Sam Kinison blush (if in fact, Sam Kinison was still alive, and had any skin, much less skin tone to have blush, of course). Not only is he out the $80 and change his Smarty Jones pick would have made him, but he still owes me 20 for making the bet. I’ll take small, unmarked bills, please. Oh, and if your sales manager can chip in a little something for me not making his half of the bet and putting him through the same pain you did, that would be nice, too.

Okay, so that was possibly the longest block quote in history, and if you just follow the link under “recap”, you get all that and more, but it was too good NOT to revisit today.

(And for the record, I just double checked the post position on a hunch, and “High Limit” is my brother’s lucky 6 horse. It has to happen, right? Hello, OTB!!!)