Descriptive Essay About Horse Racing

The Sport of Kings, or horse racing as it exists today, is a sport that numerous different people appreciate. When my wife and I went we pulled into the parking lot at the Fairmont race track at five minutes until seven o’clock in the evening. The sun had not set, although it was getting lower and the evening was quickly cooling off. Glancing across the lot I noticed there were cars and trucks of every shape and size arriving. The best parking spaces on the worn out, potholed asphalt lot were taken, nevertheless I have a disabled placard and found a spot fairly close to the door. Not too close though, there was only a few of the handicap spaces left. Such an amount of handicap people attending horse races is remarkable. As we were getting out of

our car we heard a horn blare across the lot from a man in a Cadillac Escalade as a seventies model pickup truck pulled into the parking space he wanted. The man in the Escalade gave the impression he might be getting out of his car and for a minute I believed there could be a fight. There were a few words exchanged before the Cadillac man turned and drove off and we headed for the gates. Forming into lines people started through the gates though there was some jostling as the people attempted to be ahead of each other. The slight smell alcohol drifted off of a few men in the crowd. However, people were laughing and joking with each other so there was no real worry concerning trouble. In a few minutes we were past the gates and headed to the entrance of the arena. The throng of people pushed towards and through the doorway into a large room similar to a gymnasium. Once inside I came upon a black man sitting slightly off to the side selling Race Programs at a rickety, table. This man’s name is Charlie Zuber and when asked about working here, he said, with pride in his voice, that he has done this for over sixty years. Paying Charlie five dollars for a program I head on into the depths of the room. Along a green colored wall are teller booths similar to those in a bank while scattered throughout the room you find tables where people stand while studying their Race Programs to figure out their betting strategy. However, these tables at this time, are mostly open as people are still getting their programs or are at the concession stand. Gazing down through the room, there appear to be men and women from all walks of life. Coming in the door was an older man, who I recognized as the Cadillac man, sharply dressed in an expensive looking suit and tie and wearing a cowboy hat, and at his side is a beautiful, younger looking, blond-headed woman in a tight, dark blue skirt that was extremely short, wearing a bulky, light blue sweater and wearing high heels. The attitude he gave off made me believe he was an owner of one of the racehorses. Most of the other people in the room were not dressed nearly as well. Over half of the people wore jeans and a shirt or cut-offs and T-shirt. The smell of Hot Dogs and Popcorn is floating in the air and I can see the long concession line and some people carrying Nachos back to their seats. Post time is at 7:30 and soon we hear the cry, “Ten minutes to Post time.” The rush is on now as people flood the teller windows frantically trying to get their bet in. No one is pushing, but I see several people jump from line to line in hopes they can get into a quicker line. All too soon the betting is shut off and a loud bell rings and they are off. There are at least 6 big monitors hanging from the ceiling and now all eyes are fastened on them. Some of the crowd is quiet now, but others are up screaming and hollering as if urging the horse on can actually help. In minutes it is over. The race has been won. Or lost. According to your bet.

Across the room almost all of the crowd are dropping their betting slips onto the floor. There are a few that head toward the teller booths. Only a few. The winners. In a short time once again the speakers broadcast, “Ten minutes to Post time.” and it starts again. Two hours have gone by and everything has changed to where a person would not recognize it’s the same place. Now all the tables seem to be occupied by people studying their Race Programs, although to be honest, it’s crowded with people and I cannot observe all of the tables clearly. The floor, which seemed clean at the start of the race day, now looks odd covered with loosing bet stubs and trash which people were constantly throwing down. With all the people came an increase in noise so it became difficult to hear what someone nearby was saying. The teller agents appeared tired as you could tell when you went to place a bet. The person placing the bet better understand what they are doing since the agent was not afraid to tell you to come back later. Place a bet and move out of the way came to be the agent’s attitude. Here and there throughout the building you can find where someone spilled their drink, probably beer or soda, on the

floor. These spills were not mopped up quickly so people were constantly walking through them. The tops of the tables were covered with overturned cups and concession food wrappers while beer was puddled at its base. Some of the people are just sitting at the tables and it makes me wonder if they have lost their gambling money and are now waiting on others to get done.