This post has two titles

It's like a choose you own adventure novel! Pick which Belmont story you want to read. I'll give a more comprehensive re-cap later, but I want to be able to upload all the photos I took first. In the meantime, here's the short version(s):

1. OMG! Penny Chenery TALKED to ME!!!

This is the story of the various "Squeee!" type moments I had throughout the day.

So Mr. Blacktype and I arrived early at the track, having met with only one minor mishap on the way there (anyone know what the punishment is for accidentally not paying the toll on the Washinton Bridge?). It was pretty empty, so we were able to get a lot of neat photos. Including one with Hall of Fame Jockey Jerry Bailey, who had just finished a filming episode with co-star Randy Moss (who looked surly, so we didn't ask for his photo). I'd also get surreptitious photos of Hany Goldberg (who cares?) and our man Kenny Mayne. Oh, and this big old guy on a little girl's yellow Vespa. I assumed he was someone important, because only important folks can get away with that sort of nonsense.

But the big news is that Ron Turcotte (Secretariat's jockey, for those not in the know) was there signing stuff. The stuff they were selling for him to sign was pretty expensive, so I didn't bother (if I had known he would be there I would have brought something for signing). Anyways, later I reconsidered my decision, and decided I would go back and at least have him sign my program or something. Well, I walk around the corner and there...there was Penny Chenery (Secretariat's owner, for those not in the know). You'll have to excuse me, but I seriously freaked out for a minute there. Jimmy Gaffney (one of Secretariat's 2 major exercise riders...and no, even people in the know would generally not know who he was) was also there signing. This, I could not pass up.

So, I stood in line (totally missing out on the Just A Game Stakes), to buy an overpriced poster of Secretariat and get it signed by some of my heroes. I ended up having to tell some people not in the know why everyone was standing in line like that. One guy asked me if what I paid was worth it. I answered, "It is for me, because I'm an obsessed horse racing fan." This became a running theme, as people throughout the day kept asking me how I knew certain things (how to bet exotics, the location of Big Brown's birthmark, etc.).

The only thing that would have made this fangirl's day 100% perfect was if there had been a triple crown victory, but that's a story for the other section of this post.

2. Da'Tara- What the Hell?!?

Our tickets were far off on the right hand of the stands as you're looking at them. This put us really close to the final turn, but completely out of view of the finish line. No matter, it was relatively empty and cool there for most of the day, and it served as an excellent "home base" as we wandered around the track seeing different things. The one problem was that it was right by the ESPN broadcast booth. This was neat, because we got to see a bunch of the TV personalities filming, but it was bad because it effectively blocked a significant part of the view of the turn. No matter, I spent the better part of the day figuring out how to set up shots from near our seats so that I was 100% certain to get a good photo of the field as they passed the 3/16 pole. I chose my photo spot carefully and during the post parade I got a slew of shots of various horses from that location, including one of number 6, Da'Tara, who was lathered all to heck.

"Wow," I said to the random woman at my side, "Is that guy fractious." (Note to n00bs: fractious= sweaty and nervous, generally not a good sign).

She replied, "Yeah, a horse sweating that much before a mile and a half race in this heat has no chance."

A moment later she somewhat thoughtfully amended, "Watch him win now just to spite me."

I watched the race, cheering the start like everyone else and following the ant-size horses on their trip around the giant track. I flicked my eyes between their far off forms and the infield tote-board where you could actually see the action on the big screen. For some reason, I couldn't hear the announcer at all. They got to the point where I thought Mr. Big should make his move and under my breath I muttered "Now, go now!" At which point, the horses on the track disappeared from my view. I hunkered down at my rail, camera in place. I focused everything on the pole, ready to shoot the horses as they first came into view. The people around me were shouting, and suddenly a horse swam into my field of vision. I clicked the shutter. Immediately, I started resetting the camera for a second photo, tracking the leading horse. I was completely focused on my photography (it happens to be another obsessive hobby of mine), but I managed to register one fact about the horse in front of me.

He wasn't wearing saddle cloth #1.

A nice man on my left had brought his two young kids to the track. His son, who could not have been more than 7, was standing in front of me. I'm sorry, but I think I may have offended his tender ears.

In the end, it was Da'Tara, a longshot with little to recommend him who was victorious that day. Thanks a lot random woman at the rail, you totally jinxed us all. Or perhaps it was just me, my curse proving true once again. Oh well, better luck next year.

1. Big Brown- last
2. Macho Again- 5th
3. Icabad Crane- 8th

In all honesty, I'm not that broken up about it. Mr. Blacktype was considerably more depressed. I'm glad that I don't have to write this post about how happy I am Big Brown won the Triple Crown, while being secretly a little sad that he did and harboring the silent belief that he didn't really deserve it. And like I said before, now I have a cool T-shirt to wear for Derby day next year (and the year after that? and the year after that?). Plus I have a good reason to drag Mr. Blacktype to the Belmont again the next time there's a potential champion. All in all, it was a great trip and, lack of a crown aside, I wouldn't have missed it for the world.