Beating the Odds

Like any young Midwestern boy, I spent most of my holidays at the race track. Ok, so there was a time when I found out that having a father who raced horses was a bit different. Nonetheless, horse racing remains a part of the fabric of my being. I grew up betting my allowance and reading race programs. I grew up watching my father nervously pace in the paddock and then expectantly stand at the fence during the greatest two minutes in the world. For a few years, our horses did well. For several years, they remained obscure money-draining machines. Every year, there were dreams waiting to come true.

And it’s the latter point where horse racing remains dear to me. In last year’s Kentucky Derby, Giacomo shocked and intrigued the world at the same time. Going off at 50-1, Giacomo wasn’t supposed to win. But, that’s the beauty of dreams coming true, they shock us and invigorate us at the same time. The Triple Crown remains an amazing feat precisely because there is so much out of the control of man. After all, the one whose name is being called over the loudspeaker isn’t even a man, but a horse.

And if the horse wins the Triple Crown, then there is a transcendence from animal to immortal. The odds of seeing an animal transformed into sporting immortality are incredible. And it’s the odds that encourage us to dream impossible dreams. How many other activities in life actually post the odds of success on a flashing board and update them every few minutes. If I could give you the odds that your marriage would be happy, would you want to know them? If I could post the odds that you would live a healthy life, would you look at them? So many of us are long shots when it comes to standing out in a crowd, but so many of us still wish someone would notice us when we finish this race.

So, I want to encourage you to immerse yourself in a horse race and feel what is felt by the trainers, the drivers, and the spectators. Don’t sit there and watch several horses run in a circle, that’s rather unimpressive. Dream the impossible dream and then cheer on some obscure name for two minutes. Remember two words from March Madness: George Mason. Then, forget the poker players on the other channel, ignore the reality shows for a few minutes, and simply remember what it was like to dream of being noticed by that special someone. To hear your name called out amidst a crowd of other more famous names and have people sit up and suddenly recognize you. Remember the first time that one girl suddenly stopped and said hello, instead of walking by every day without even a glance. Remember the first time she said your name out loud in public, the power surge that permeated your body when she stopped and noticed only you. I am asking you to remember those dreams when the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont work their way into our imagination for a few weeks each year. Then maybe you will understand why millions of dollars are spent on the greatest two minutes in sports. In the core of our being, in the secret places of our heart, someone knows our name and for a brief time, every one else stands up and cheers.