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

In the next ten minutes you will become a laboratory rat. You think not — but we shall see.

Enlisting new players to join our harness racing band is difficult. We are a relatively small, exotic, insular group. It is mindboggling that anyone randomly discovers us in this complicated world. Promoting harness horse racing to a person who does not know we exist is like teaching a turtle how to tango.

Therefore, a recent experience has been interesting. The shoe was on the other hoof. I was the turtle. The tango was a strange sport. I am dancing. How this happened may be instructive, and perhaps upsetting.

Each week my subscription to The New Yorker arrives; I love this magazine and receive it both online and in print. Decade after decade, real journalism, fiction, humor, opinions and politics appear on the pages. Sports stories rarely make the cut. Should a sport or game be deemed worthy of publication, it will have a hook or angle that takes it beyond the mundane. Such a story appeared in the March 30, 2015 issue.

Let’s pause here for a moment.

What did the editors of The New Yorker see in this submission that enticed them to give the author, Sam Knight, free rein to write a feature story about an obscure sport?

Autumn Ryan graphic

The answers were clear to those of us in the attention grabbing business; a riveting protagonist, a rather exotic setting, and a story driven by sex, drugs, depression, breakdowns, imprisonment, controversy, redemption, failure, murder, pornography and just about every other cue that makes a story pop off the page or appear on a screen.

The article, “Follow the White Ball; The Torments of Ronnie O’Sullivan, Snooker’s Greatest Player,” lured me into a world that I did not know existed. Since my introduction, I have visited the snooker universe via hours of videos, articles and live streams. I am beginning to understand and follow this complex game to the point of a minor obsession.

How they monetize me (gambling on matches is around the corner) has yet to be seen, but I found this strange game. How far I follow the “Crucible Curse,” the “Century Break” and the “potting” of balls remains to be seen, but the door has been opened. The spark was the article. Technology allowed the fire. The same path that led me to snooker could lead players to harness racing.

An uncomfortable fact is that it took controversy and scandal to put snooker on my plate. In the game of attention grabbing, this is an old story; violent storms are more marketable than sunny skies. Controversy plays to a packed house in all fields: politics, business, news and sports.

If you own a racetrack, are a race judge, operate an organization that promotes the sport of harness racing, are a lobbyist, an enforcement agency, or one of the countless people that try, sometimes valiantly, to keep our ship afloat, controversy is greeted like a call from one of your children that includes the words, “face tattoo.” You have plenty of headaches and hurdles in harness horse racing. Events that rock the boat are distractions.

It’s a classic conundrum; smooth sailing and a low profile is the easier route, but this route makes it easy to get lost in the tsunami of entertainment options. The consumer craves complex characters and conflict. They bring something to the table. They bring interest. In sports like football that rely on advertising, controversy means interest and interest means money. The question is — could a sport like harness horse racing that relies on gambling benefit from a more dramatic stage? Is boat rocking a hindrance or a help?

Consider this as you formulate an answer.

Ronnie (The Rocket) O’Sullivan is a train wreck; he has left rubble and controversy on the tracks. He is an erratic Jekyll and Hyde with more baggage than Amtrak. Mr. Knight presents a well written portrait of a flawed and somewhat troubled fellow. However, and many will find this extraordinarily weird — if this snooker player was a model citizen, an ordinary champion, I would not know who he is, nor would I have any knowledge of the game of snooker, nor would I be live-streaming snooker matches.

That’s the way the world works. Maybe it’s a way we should roll.

Three hypotheses will be tested:

1. A good portion of you reading will prove the point of this article. We are all voyeurs and want to get a better view of a train wreck. You will search the web and investigate snooker and Mr. O’Sullivan. It is easy to find, just search “New Yorker – Sam Knight, Unhappy King of Snooker.” You may also watch a few matches via YouTube.

2. Cross pollination will take place. In the clickable world in which this column finds purchase, there is always some afterlife, how much is determined by the audience. Twenty years ago my ability to sate the curiosity this article created would have been a dead end because snooker has a very faint pulse in the United States. Today, a reader can follow up and in doing so, bridges will be built. A few people in the snooker world will find this and thus, there is a chance they will find harness racing.

3. As a result of hypothesis No. 2 these words will reach the the editors of The New Yorker, the editors will realize that content of this quality, a bold and clever approach tinged with humor, will upgrade their Shouts and Murmurs section. Much to the delight of my numerous creditors, they will offer compensation.

We shall see.