May 5, 2014
Greetings from the furlong,
What I was going to say was that I gave up the Kentucky
Derby for Lent.
I like to think that I am of reasonable intelligence, and possess
the ability to focus on important subjects for appropriate lengths of time. I like to think I have the mental discipline that
produces single minded acuity. It’s not
true, but I like to think it.
It’s not unusual for me to lose focus in a very short span
of time, including while I have been on elevators. There have been times when I will push a
button and then think about something else and then forget on which floor I was
supposed to get off. I also admit that I have gotten on an elevator
and not pushed the button at all and then mentally checked out. Then the door opens again and I am still on
the same floor, confused, and forced to pretend I intended to get off on that
floor, which leads to all kinds of face saving complications, including walking
up seven flights of stairs.
So the subject of the Kentucky Derby was floated in casual
conversation. I was paying attention at
first, but by the time the second hand had swept all the way around my watch, I
was already wondering about something else.
Elevator inspectors, I think.
The Kentucky Derby is a big deal in horse racing. Some say it is the ‘Superbowl’ of horse
racing, though Derby aficionados would be aghast at such a crass
comparison. As a side note, there is a
big field in the middle of Churchill downs where a football game could be
staged during Derby week in order to entertain people in when things are dull. Just an idea.
The Derby has been described as ‘The Greatest Two Minutes in
Sports’, which to me would seem a little presumptuous. I would say that there are athletes in the
last two minutes of a marathon, or the March Madness finals, or the last 120
seconds of round fifteen with Cassius Clay, that might take exception to that
claim.
In fact, it might be all of the Kentucky Derby
pretentiousness that puts me off. Frankly,
I’m not even sure it qualifies as a sport; it seems there is a lot more
primping than competing. I have no doubt
that the jockeys are working hard, though not near as hard as the horses, and
we know who is taking home the bigger payday in that pairing. Not sure if the new minimum wage would solve
that. But I digress.
I have thought about other sports, from NASCAR to curling,
and they all have their own rituals and celebrations. They all have traditions, ceremony, and
rigmarole, some more involved than others.
Truth be known, I don’t really identify much with those events either,
in part because most sports require a span of attention slightly longer than
the few seconds that mine has been limited to.
But at the Kentucky Derby the spectacle is somehow elevated
beyond the pale of the ordinary sport. There
are formal gowns and sophisticated drinks and elegant couture, and at some
point, horses with flowers on them. It’s like some staged a prom and a horse
race broke out. It is designed to be more
genteel, more regal, more refined. These
words have never been included in the same paragraph as my name. The Kentucky Derby might just be too hoity-toity
for a boy from the Midwest whose idea of a well spent afternoon is losing track
of time.
At the heart of the Kentucky Derby pomp is the ladies’
hats. Ornate, bright, and most
important, big. The style this year was
to have a brim large enough to shelter a herd of thoroughbreds. I am not sure if the horses wear hats too,
although I believe that at one time they wore bowlers, which is where the Derby
reference came from.
The question was “Are you going to watch the Kentucky Derby?” Deep in the recesses of my brain there was a
funny remark, a combination of sarcasm and a little irreverence, all designed
to express my indifference toward the presumptuous pageantry paraded in the
premiere pony play-off. Unfortunately they were embedded a little too
deep in the recesses and I lost interest before they showed up on my tongue.
I realize now, of course, that Lent ended a week ago; I just
lost track of time, paying attention to a series of less important things in an
ever-descending spiral down to the subject of weight limits on elevators. So even if I had been alert enough to express
myself, the response might have seemed at the very least irrelevant.
Regardless, I am interested in improving my attention span,
and expanding my cultural horizons, so I have decided to commit to watching the
Kentucky Derby, the whole two minutes. I
will whip up a pitcher of mint juleps, put on my biggest hat, and as soon as I
can figure out when it is running, I will warm up the TV and enjoy the spectacle
with the best of the gentry.
Hope this finds you in the winner’s circle,
David
Copyright © 2014 David Smith
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