Miles and I stayed up late to watch Front Door at Turfway Park Friday night. Miles, more interested in Shakespeare, presidents, John Prine, Percy Jackson, baseball, anything than horse racing but he’s a team player. Once I explained the naming process, that Front Door’s dad is Point Of Entry, that helped Miles’ interest. When Front Door found a stalking spot outside in fourth, Mark Grier’s gold silks breaking the Turfway park winter gray, that helped. Then when Front Door put his head in front, then his neck, well, that really helped.
Miles and I leapt in the air, high-fived, danced around the ottoman. There is nothing like a winner, even when 368 miles away.
“That was great, Dad. That was great.”
Sure, a maiden at Turfway in the dead of winter, but we’ll take it. A homebred, Front Door made his debut for Charlie LoPresti at Keeneland in the fall and ran inexplicably poorly. We didn’t think he would win, but we certainly expected better than that. We castrated him, backed off and regrouped. As always, you never know where that will take you…a Turfway Park maiden in the winter.
We watched the race on generator power as we lost power early in the windstorm that ravaged the area. Trees and power lines tangled from end of town to the other, the generator ran nonstop for three days. Miles and I renamed the generator, yeah you guessed it – Front Door.