Nothing like the energy of race day. I’m up early. Let’s go. Race morning Friday. The first at Cheltenham at 7:05, right between packing Miles’ lunch, frying two eggs and getting him to school. Lucky kid. Lunch (leftover leg of lamb and broccoli), water bottle, backpack stacked and ready by the door. Eggs devoured quicker than it took to crack them. A perfect nine minutes between post time and final call to get out of the house and make the bus.
We huddle on the family room couch. Racing TV on the laptop. Cheltenham Live. TVG on the wall, a few seconds behind, a backup in case country Internet fails and Racing TV flops.
Sherminator, 2-for-2 over hurdles, returning from a layoff, first start of the season, price has drifted from 9-1 at first drop a few days ago to 40-1 (did I see that?) and now back to 22-1, then 14-1. I don’t wager. Plenty already wagered.
Plenty of speed, find some cover, make one run. See what happens.
Lightly away, pulling, mid-pack, skips over the first, hidden behind a phalanx. Second was OK, not smooth, but OK. “…shades of blue, red cap…” Descend down the hill to the third. Outside, over it. Fourth was short, fine. Fifth, a mistake, dragged his hind end across the bar. Sixth at the top of the hill, another mistake, indecisive, long and weak, a step, a paddle and a nod. Three gasps from a couch in Virginia. Two to go, still seventh or so, behind a wall, hard to say how we’re going, far from dominant, but no distress. Plenty to do. Slides out for a look, then goes back behind another red-cap rival, hidden. And poof. Sherminator is suddenly perpendicular to the race, the track.
Three gasps.
“…a good jump again Old Park Star…not so further back in the field and a tumbling fall for Sherminator, the horse quickly on his feet…”
Carver lies motionless. Sherminator gallops off. And a remote control smashes across the family room wall.
Carver gets up and walks toward the ambulance. We exhale.
Miles picks up his backpack, lunch box and walks out the mud-room door. Sometimes I wish I was still in school.
