Longest Drive Contest

Editor’s Note: The USTA website is pleased to present freelance writer Bob Carson and his popular “Outside the Box” features. This monthly series is a menu of outlandish proposals presented with a wink — but the purpose behind them is serious. The views contained in this column are that of the author alone, and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of the United States Trotting Association.

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope” — Martin Luther King

Bob Carson

At the end of each yearling sale, we watch our yearling dreams clomp up the ramp into a van and believe, “This is the one.” We do this knowing that the road to a Sires Stakes quality horse is long and winding. We know the math — four legs to the final and hundreds of competitors in the yearling class. The costs are high. Problems lurk around every corner, with every step.

If we ran a contest titled, “The Most Painful Experience along the Road to a Sires Stakes Final,” the entry box would fill quickly. We all know that the downs in this game are low, but without lows, there are no highs. The longer you have been in the game, the more disappointments you have experienced.

My partner and I are no exception.

Have you ever purchased a yearling, paid training, paid staking fees to keep the horse eligible, qualified, entered into a Sires Stakes race, paid a $500 starting fee, waited for the draw, drove three hours to the racetrack and waited nervously for your division? Then with sinking heart, you watched your horse go off stride before the starting gate and finish so far back it did not get an official time?

We have.

Have you ever had a 2-year-old entered into a Sires Stakes race, paid a $500 starting fee, waited for the draw, waited nervously for your division, and watched your horse circle the field, gobble up horses and then in the stretch, misstep and finish seventh?

We have.

Have you ever entered a horse into a Sires Stakes race, paid a $500 starting fee, shipped eight hours, drew the outside post in the strongest division, watched your driver drift to last and get trapped. Finally, he gets free in the stretch, closes like a missile, and in a blanket finish of six horses, you finish sixth. Then have the driver say, “Sorry, didn’t know she was that good.”

We have.

My guess is that most of you could make these three simple examples feel like a day at the beach. Bad steps, broken equipment, horses falling in front of you, sickness — a smorgasbord of despair is on every table of every race participant.
This is our game.

This is horse racing.

You shrug your shoulders and make the long drive home with a trunkful of “what ifs.” Blaming and complaining is futile. Chin up, no complaints, we lick our wounds and chase the next windmill.

However, have you ever had your horse race all four legs in the Sires Stakes, each with a $500 starting fee, battle every stake eligible horse, make the final, the championship final that has a quarter of a million dollar purse, but to race you must pay a huge starting fee?

We have not.

However, if we did, the concept of paying as much as a $1,000 starting fee after earning our way into the big race would be troubling. This sport is heartbreaking enough, paying a huge starting fee to enter a stakes final and then get your heart broken seems to fall into the realm of cruel and unusual punishment.

No doubt there are reasons, perhaps among them discouraging longshot hopefuls in early legs, but in the final? Waiving the entry fee should be part of the package of earning your slot in the final field.

Better still, in my strange world, every starter that earned a slot in that final field gets a guaranteed $1,000. The big picture would be that four horses (six, seven, eight and nine) would drive home with $1,000 and a good experience in their rear view mirror. Surely, there are other possible frameworks where these finalists receive something, somehow. The first five finishers would barely notice the difference.

And the winner? Sheesh, most of us would be so delirious at this once in a lifetime race we would be thrilled to know that our fellow harness racers are not going home empty handed. Heck, some of us would spend another four grand at the clubhouse bar if we won the race.

The drive home for finalists who finish out of the money is going to be long and sad. We should find ways to avoid making it longer and sadder for the connections of a horse that battled to the final.

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