by Bob Carson

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.

Bob Carson

Writers are often surprised how material they send into the world is received; humor, fiction and satire are especially dodgy territory. One big toe trampled, or one crank that does not get the joke, or does not like the slant, can make writers and publishers miserable.

These dynamics hold true in writing about baseball, fly fishing, business, or politics — so editors usually avoid treading these paths of controversial material. As a freelancer, the leash is a little longer. An editor can always say to a grumbler, “Yeah, that guy is a complete moron, but he has some pictures from the office Christmas party that could be troubling to some important people.”

Right there is an example; a few of you might view the previous paragraph with a chuckle while others are thinking that type of nonsense has no place in a respectable harness racing publication or website.

Now that I have a few hundred columns and short stories tossed into the harness racing arena, the one that received by far the most feedback was an effort that I believed was bizarre, outlandish and perilous (which happens to be the name of the attorneys that handled some recent litigation for me).

My reservoir of crazy ideas is deep. My daughter once remarked, “Gee dad, it doesn’t seem fair, you get all these ridiculous ideas, mom had just one 30 years ago and wakes up next to it every morning.”

But the harness horse racing column I am referring to was wacky. I pulled the pin, lobbed it, and crouched into a fetal position waiting to catch shrapnel. The response still floors me. With the July 13 USTA industry summit to address the shrinking foal crops looming, I am posting this sequel.

Basically, the piece suggested that fiscally challenged people such as moi are always outbid for yearlings at the sales. Those of us with modest (or non-existent) bankrolls will not be able to make a purchase in the cream of the auction crop.

The idea was this — a sales company takes the average price of a yearling at the previous year’s sale; let’s say it was $15,000 for 1,000 horses. This year, people in the audience each purchase a chance on a yearling hip 1 to 1,000. The cost is $16,000 per chance (a healthy increase in the average for sellers).

The sale is no longer an auction; it is a random drawing or raffle. To be more precise, the event is 1,000 exciting drawings in one day. Your $16,000 might get a yearling you really, really want, or a yearling you really, really do not want. But at the end of the drawing, everyone in the building will have a yearling (or multiple yearlings if they purchased multiple chances).

This random drawing would be exciting, but it would not be the end of the madness; the drawing would be the beginning of more madness, more excitement. The next three days would be filled with non-stop, free market horse swapping, a festival of multiple private deals between buyers and sellers.

Let us say that I scraped up $16,000 for a chance (more than I normally pay). I draw Hip No. 609 and frantically turn to the catalogue page. I’m not thrilled. My horse is what I judge to be a relatively weak trotting filly. I have two choices; keep the horse or deal the horse. And I will have a chance to deal.

All horses must stay in the building for two days to allow horse swapping, discussion and subsequent mayhem. Others may come knocking, or you may need to go knocking. And knocking in the building with digital devices is easy (each sale will come with multiple methods for the purchaser to be contacted or contact others). Players in this crazy world might change yearlings several times, trying to go home with something they are happy with.

You can read the old column at this link.

Amazing things happened after proposing this lunacy. People liked the idea. It generated by far the strongest positive feedback response of anything ever to fall out of my keyboard. A complete stranger approached me at Delaware, shook my hand and raved about the idea (true, he was bleary eyed, holding a very large beer and it was late in the Jug program — but I still consider him my first groupie). And people wrote to suggest tweaks to the crazy plan.

I remember some suggestions:

• Create a premier level of the top 100 where the buy in for a chance is a hundred grand or a bottom tier where 100 are only around $7,000.
• Separate the drawings into smaller, more manageable groups.
• Divide the drawings into state programs.
• Individual farms could have their own drawing group or mom and pop breeders could band together for a drawing group.
• Each horse should have a statistical number based on expert pedigrees and conformation; you don’t need to agree and this would not be perfect but it would be a baseline value for the additional horse swapping.
• Make a test group, see how it works, and find out who dares to play.
• Intersperse smaller raffle groups to break up traditional sales.

The sale would morph into a raffle that would morph into huge swap meet. What a madhouse after the original bidding. Talk about drama, talk about action, wait till you see me trying to shuffle the deck to try and maximize No. 609. The whole scene would be a fake-reality show waiting for filming.

The deep pockets should not be afraid; they will always get the horses they want. Hey, if someone shows up and offers a schmuck like me $50,000 for No. 609, I’m dealing. The smart money will find a way. The deep pockets will always have the horsepower. The breeders will have some stability and still want to breed good horses to get in the premier level. Modern computers and algorithms of pedigrees combined with a panel of conformation experts could “sort” the tiers.

Shallow pockets or brand new buyers would believe that they have a stronger chance to come home with a winner. The somewhat insular and shrinking market of potential yearling purchasers could find some rejuvenation. Bidding chicanery and conglomerations would be hampered. The publicity angles would be intriguing.

I don’t know what breeders like John Mossbarger or Adam Bowden would think about something this radical; perhaps they will issue restraining orders that forbid me from ever mentioning horse sales again; perhaps they would see some promise, Who knows. What I do know is that insane ideas contain grains of sanity and taking risks is more exciting than standing still.

We are in desperate need of new, unorthodox ideas. Merely theorizing or talking will not save us. Breeding farms, racetracks, and organizations all need to start swinging for the fences. That is not a wild idea. It is an old one endorsed by some smart folks.

“New ideas pass through three periods: 1. It can’t be done. 2. It probably can be done, but it’s not worth doing. 3. I knew it was a good idea all along!” — Arthur C. Clarke

“If at first the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it.” — Albert Einstein

“An idea that is not dangerous is unworthy of being called an idea at all.” — Oscar Wilde