Bob Carson

I’m nonplussed, or perhaps it’s plussed.

It’s been a year. As far as I can discern, not a single one of my brilliant essays on unusual methods to resurrect the sport of harness horse racing has been implemented. Granted, these revolutionary concepts are written on the margins of curled race programs, after several beers, by a man who has little actual knowledge of promotion, finances or equine matters — still, they are better than sticking our heads in the sand like ostriches*.

* In a study of over 200,000 ostriches over a period of 80 years, no one has ever reported seeing an ostrich bury its head in the sand.

Actually, I have several more ideas to save harness racing, and if my racetrack does not run out of beer (or close), I will undoubtedly concoct more. But if the harness race industry continues to show the flexibility of a frozen mastodon, I may be wasting my time and our beloved sport will again be left to its own devices.

Autumn Schmidt graphic

Several people (two) have written to ask my qualifications (few) for becoming the beacon that will lead harness racing to green pastures and full grandstands. My resume is clear — 27 years of public school teaching, six years of writing jokes, ownership of eight yearlings that did not earn enough money to pay for a large diet Pepsi and blowing my daughter’s college tuition fund in the harness race grandstands. I hope this quiets the doubters.

It is intriguing to find myself writing a column for the USTA (who, by the way, strictly disassociate themselves from my positions on, well, everything). Normally, columnists are required to hold strong positions and opine on these positions forcefully. My forte is rarely having a strong opinion; my watchwords are “works for me” and “pass the nachos.” My only position is an infatuation with this goofy sport and a loathing for our location in the sporting hierarchy. For some reason this ticks me off to no end.

Harness racing needs to change course. We need to do it immediately and dramatically. Despite the crutch of slots revenue, we are losing fans faster than Vanilla Ice and Wayne Newton. Things happen fast, harness racing could wake up with a sheet over our head and the doctor looking at our chart saying, “I don’t understand it, the patient showed no previous history of suicide.”

Remember, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt. No, wait, a step. Our old sport must not be reticent about testing new waters even if it means jumping into unknown dark waters with both feet. Baby steps are much easier than gigantic leaps but baby steps will not get us where we are going fast enough.

Harness racing cannot be afraid. We are way too serious, referring to ourselves as “the industry.” Hey, it’s a sport — entertainment and fun. It’s a sport in need of new energy. The core product is great but we need a repackaging with fun, foolishness and fervor if we are to bring more fans into the tent.

With this in mind I will trudge onward, carrying the banners of harness racing innovation, ingenuity, novelty and inanity. Among future plans to rescue harness racing will be a complex menu of innovations that brush against topics such as hi tech development, historic gambling, the stock market, Lindsay Lohan, bingo, musical soundtracks, geometric shapes, kidnapping and crossword puzzles.

Let’s hope these plans get more traction than the disappointing implementation record of last year. I’ll be watching.