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NPR article regarding the Derby
Sounds like Frank Deford has a chip on his shoulder....
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/s...35093&ft=1&f=3 Did you ever talk about Nutsy Fagan around your neighborhood? When somebody acted, well, nutsy, we said, "He's as nutsy as Nutsy Fagan." There's some question about who exactly the Nutsy Fagan was. He might have been a guy in 19th century New York who liked to join funeral processions under the impression they were parades. And, of course, we weren't so considerate then. A guy was fat, we called him "fats"; a guy was nutsy — hey, we called him "nutsy." Anyway, I always think of Nutsy Fagan when I see how some sports handle their schedules. For example, the most important NASCAR race is the Daytona 500 — the first big race of the year. It would be as if the NFL started with the Super Bowl and worked backward from there. The two most different surfaces in tennis are clay and grass, but as soon as the French clay championships end, they immediately switch to grass and start Wimbledon only two weeks later. Only Nutsy Fagan could have dreamed that up. College football teams finish their regular schedule in November, maybe early December. Then the two championship contenders take a whole month off before meeting for the national title in January. Nothing, though, is so dopey as the way horse racing conducts its premier event, the Kentucky Derby, which, of course, is run this Saturday — by custom, the first Saturday in May. In how many details can they screw it up? Let me count the ways. First of all, the Derby is run at a mile and a quarter, which is a long distance for young 3-years-olds to cover. Thoroughbreds race a lot less now, and they're bred more for speed. As if running the mile and a quarter early in May isn't asking too much, the second leg of the Triple Crown, the Preakness, will be conducted just two weeks later. Not only that: The Preakness is shorter than the Derby. So, they run the longer race first, then rush into the second, shorter one. Then, just three weeks later comes the Triple Crown finale, the Belmont. That means the three races are jammed together in only five weeks. Big Brown, the probable Derby favorite, has so far only raced three times in his whole life. The Belmont is run at a mile and a half. This is a distance virtually no race horse in America runs anymore — except for the Belmont. But to make it sound special rather than idiotic, a mile and a half is always called a "classic distance," which is true enough, especially if you think classic means out of fashion. The Belmont is a classic the way the set shot in basketball is. But, of course, nobody in basketball is dumb enough to use the set shot anymore just because it's a classic. Moreover, at the Derby, to start the Triple Crown off, they let 20 horses run, which is far too many. So the most important race in America is more determined by luck than skill as the thundering herd blasts out of the starting gates. No wonder no colt ever wins the Triple Crown anymore. So Saturday, when the band starts playing "My Old Kentucky Home" and the thoroughbred stampede comes onto the track, I'll raise my mint julep and say, "You did it again, Nutsy Fagan!" |
#2
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i heard him this morning on npr.
he usually has an interesting take. i'd recommend his book on the army/navy football rivalry. he covers a lot of sports and like many generalist's misses the nuances when it comes to niche sports like horse racing. wasn't one of his better essays. the gross factual error on the belmont being the classic distance leapt out when i was listening and again as i read it. surprised this made it on air but i guess his editor/fact checker isn't much of a racing enthusiast either. |
#3
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I heard him this morning on npr.
he usually has an interesting take. i'd recommend his book on the army/navy football rivalry. I unexpectedly happened to attend a live Army-Navy football game in Philadephia in 1999. I just happened to be in Philly on business, and decided to jump on a train from Center City and found a single ticket for face value that Saturday morning. I had very low expectations, and just was going primarily to "check it off the list" of things to do in life. My expectations lowered further when I entered and learned that both services requested that no alcohol be sold (though there was lots of alcohol in the pre-game parking lot). Enjoyment increased immensely with the pre-game festivities, complete with sky divers and fly overs. The videos shown in the stadium on timeouts were incredibly great and funny. Each academy poked good natured and barbed fun at the other. The pomp and pageantry was stupendous. The game was better than average for a football fan in an Army-Navy game, though Navy pulled decidedly ahead in the 2nd half. I was thinking about leaving early, but suddenly noted that seemingly not one person had left the stadium, even though the end result was well decided. I didn't know what was up, but decided I better hang around to see. Long story short, when the game was over, and the academy teams did the post traditional game serenades to their fans and opponents, it was a goosebump on top of goosebump moment for any American....in my book. My advice is, if you ever get a chance to go to an Army-Navy game.......ignore the expectation of a boring and meaningless football game, and just go. I assure, it will be anything BUT boring and meaningless. |
#4
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some fan
$2 says Frank Deford is a fan and will be betting BB saturday. jerk.
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#5
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the usual article about how the tc needs to change....that it's an anachronism.
it must be may.
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