“Where the turf meets the surf, down at old Del Mar, take a . . . horse. It's much cheaper than gas, of course.”
– What Bing Crosby wouldn't have to sing today
DEL MAR – Really, this place doesn't apply, so there would be no need for Bing to mess with the lyrics. They're going to get here any way they can, and yesterday they came to opening day, mostly by horseless carriage, be it Yugo or limo. Here is a joint basically immune from all that's going on in the industry and the wacky world. The Del Mar Thoroughbred Club has had its shots.
This year, opening day, one of the best of its kind, fell on the driest sports day of 2008. No baseball. No football. No basketball. No college games. Maybe an unfriendly soccer game somewhere.
So it's Del Mar or nothing and, of course, it's much more than nothing, although horse racing is going through such trying times that even the drug police are after it. But Del Mar gets a pass. Fiscally troubled tracks such as Hollywood Park, meantime, are standing in a puddle with a finger in the socket.
Del Mar is the game's vacation spot, its Vegas, and it's one of the great melting pots. Reveries never seem to fade at this particular field of dreams, although nightmares can come true for the know-it-alls, who can't know much, because horses don't talk – and if they did, why would anybody believe them?
The tote doesn't know how much you have or don't have. It doesn't play favorites. Whether you show up wearing flip-flops or Jimmy Choos – and you can find both here – it doesn't know the difference. It shamelessly will take your dough without a first, second or third thought.
Totes remain profoundly unaffected by the cost of aptly named crude oil. As do the horses, as do the people who wager on them. Del Mar opened during the Great Depression. People are going to bet. Got it?
Thing is, this never has been an easy place to handicap, especially early in the meeting, and now, with Polytrack put down in 2007 to protect the horses, it may even be more difficult.
“Right now, I'm treating it like I did last year,” says Bob “Eisenhower” Ike, our crack handicapper.
The last winner Ike gave me, I think, was Tonga in the 1951 Del Mar Debutante. But that's all right. I could bet every horse in a race and lose.
“I'm looking at horses that ran well on this surface last year, but it's still a mystery. It's definitely a horses-for-courses track. Pace and class take a back seat to horses that like the track.”
For this reason, Eisenhower liked Plan for Fun in the first race. Armed with his knowledge, I didn't bet him. Naturally, he won, although it barely paid for a gallon of gas.
When it comes to horse racing, I have no pretensions. I'm not here to win. I'm here to observe, and there is plenty to observe.
So it's time to head downstairs and check out the opening day sights. The Truly Fabulous Hats Contest is a must. One woman's chapeau is a large board with Del Mar's landscape on top of it. It sports plastic horses (one of mine, probably) and a starting gate.
When asked how long she intends to wear it, she says: “If I take it off, I'll have really bad hat hair, so I'll probably wear it all day. If nothing else, it provides shade.”
She could rent it out at beaches.
Anyway, I'm off to my annual trek to the incredible Turf Club, The House That Plastic Surgeons Built. This is racing's Oscar night, who could outdo whom. Women are dressed to the nines, tens and elevens. I can't stay long because my eyes can't stand the strain. It's like looking into the sun.
Tinseltown celebs used to adorn this place, back when the paparazzi carried Brownies. But I can't find one until master gate-crasher Dion Rich arrives wearing a sport coat so awful a 1930s Forgotten Man wouldn't put it on.
Maybe Del Mar isn't what it used to be. But what is? Celebrities don't have to come here to be detected anymore. Opening day at the track is a place for those who aren't seen enough. Those who want to fake it can do so in a very crowded room – one day a year. Some can get away with it – until the check comes.
Meanwhile, it's time for another Ike tip. He loves Kbello in the second. Kbello tries his best not to finish second-to-last, and succeeds. Another last.
Ike's biggie of the day is The Unusual One in the fifth. Partial to horses named after me, I put a few bob on Bob's hunch.
“If this horse finishes last,” Ike says, “I'll jump out of the press box.”
No need for that. The Unusual One didn't finish last, only because there were a few slower horses (I don't know how) in the race.
So, this Unusual One left Del Mar with his usual opening day feeling. Fulfilled and empty.
Nick Canepa: (619) 293-1397; nick.canepa@uniontrib.com
