by Mark Paul
“We’ve had five dates, and I’ve never seen you so excited to go anywhere as you seem today,” she said. Ava smiled at him. She even seemed happy to accept that Dino was now going with them on this date.
“You’ll see, Ava, it’s so beautiful at Santa Anita. You’ll love the mountains, and I’ll get you right up close to the horses in the saddling paddock. The horses are gorgeous, and it’ll be exciting. What will you do with all the money you’ll win today? Oh, and bring some shoes that you can walk in the mud and dirt…and other horse stuff…in.”
“Are you sure Winning Colors will win today?”
“She’s undefeated, and Dino thinks she is the best 3-year-old in the country, even better than the male colts, and believe me, he knows what he is doing. He has made me a ton of money.”
“I can’t wait. It sounds fun!” Ava laughed harder than he’d ever heard her laugh as she disappeared into the closet. “Oh yeah…let me show you my hat.” She came back out wearing one of the widest hats he had ever seen, with blue feathers jutting out on top, over her long auburn hair. “See… I told you it would be understated.”
“Ava…it won’t fit in the car.”
“You just pick us some winners…and leave the fashion to me.”
It wasn’t just the hat. Miami was apprehensive. He had seen, time and time again, that the instant a gambler fell in love and started spending time with a woman, he would inevitably always go on the largest losing streak of his life. Lucky at love, unlucky at gambling was a common saying. However, unlucky at gambling did not necessarily lead to being lucky at love.
The February afternoon was a typical bright California winter day with temperatures in the mid-70s. Dino picked them up in his yellow, four-door Impala, blasting “Faith,” by George Michael. Ava and Miami hopped in the back seat. Forty-five minutes later they arrived to find the track packed with fans, with long lines for the public to get through the turnstiles.
They ordered lunch at their usual turf club table overlooking the Santa Anita stretch. It was fun for Miami and Dino to have Ava at their table, and many of their usual gambling buddies stopped by to say hello and meet her.
“How often do you and Dino go to the track?” she asked.
Miami shrugged off the question.
“No really…how often do you and Dino go to the track?”
“We don’t go to the track as much as we used too. Now we only go when it’s open.”
“Mark…so why does everyone here call you ‘Miami?’”
“It’s my nickname. No idea how it started….”
“I’ll stick with Mark.”
“I hope you do.” He looked into her eyes and smiled.
When Ava stepped away, Dino told him, “She seems to really make you happy.”
“She does. Just something about her is special. She’s kind of like Winning Colors… tall…athletic…and very feisty, too.”
The boys were not hitting any winners at all; their horses were not running well. Miami had been buying small denomination betting tickets for Ava all day. The races are exciting when your horses are competitive and involved in photo finish stretch runs, but today their betting selections were not in the outcomes of any of the races at the finish.
“Zip. Zero. Zilch. We have not cashed a single damn ticket today. Ava, I usually perform better than this.”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Dino.
“Let me pick one…I’d like to win at least one race today. I need a winner!” said Ava.
“Sure…but, it’s complicated. Dino can explain and help you understand the important stuff, like early speed, track post position bias, class, and closing internal fractions.”
“Nah…I’m good…I like Quacky Ducky in the next race,” she said as she smiled at Mark.
“Quacky Ducky? You’re kidding, right?”
“It’s a great name.”
“Quacky Ducky it is.” Miami went down to bet $20 to win for Ava on her horse and put $100 each for Dino and himself on Dino’s race selection of Dancing Papa.
Dancing Papa went to an early lead and as he turned for home, he looked like a winner. A wall of closing horses charged late in a three-horse photo finish. Miami could tell Dancing Papa had faded and was not paying attention when the photo finish result was posted showing a 48-1 long shot: Ava’s horse was the winner. Quacky Ducky had won for only the second time in twenty-three career starts, while Dancing Papa faded to third.
“How much did we win?” screamed Ava while proudly holding her winning ticket in the air.
“Uh. You won $960. Dino and I…we…we lost again….”
“Why didn’t you bet on Quacky Ducky?”
“It’s all good,” Dino told Ava.
“I’m going to go cash my ticket…just point the way to the cashier’s window…do you guys remember where it is?” She smiled as she left the table.
“She is a great girl, Miami, and I just don’t believe in the women are bad luck at the track thing. In any given race, sure luck matters.” Dino believed in his statistics, research, and hard work. Winning at the track was a formula to be deciphered, and, over a long period of time, he believed he would prevail. “And apparently she is a much better handicapper than you are. Picking Quacky Ducky at 48-1 was a mean piece of work.”
“I told you she is special. Let’s see who she likes in the ninth, after the Winning Colors race next up.”
When Ava came back, Dino explained, “The race we came here for is coming next in 30 minutes. The absolute best stakes class fillies in the entire country are entered today against our girl Winning Colors. Goodbye Halo is the top East Coast champion, going against our West Coast champion filly Winning Colors. If she wins…when she wins…it will be a great day. No worries.”
The Lukas stable was revolutionizing thoroughbred racing. Its horses were winning so many races that everyone they entered would be bet down to low odds. With so many high-class horses stabled in each Lukas barn across the nation, they often would have multiple horses running in the same race. The toughest race day competition for a Lukas horse was often another Lukas trained horse. The Lukas barn had become the leading stable in money won each year by running an elite string of horses simultaneously in Southern California, Kentucky, New York, and Florida. This was unheard of in the old school racing industry.
Lukas had now purchased his own private jet to scour the horse auctions and meet with affluent owners from Malibu to Manhattan. The other trainers resented this handsome Hollywood trainer, his jet, his Rolls Royce, and his attire. They disparaged him behind his back about his training techniques, the ones he’d learned in his quarter horse track early days. Lukas would listen to his assistants, but he always made the final decisions, while talking on a huge Motorola cell phone with extended antennae attached to his ear, allowing him to coordinate the training plans of over 350 horses at different barns across the country.
The 2-year-old and 3-year-old horses from the Lukas stable were dominating stakes races from coast to coast. Racing young 2-year-old horses remained controversial, and many industry officials didn’t believe that 2-year-old thoroughbreds should be raced at all because their bones are not fully developed. But there was big money offered in these races for young stars and Lukas was always to be found where the money showed up. The winning horse owners typically earn 60 percent of the race’s purse money, 20 percent for second place, 10 percent for third, five percent for fourth, and three percent for fifth place. Trainers and jockeys usually earn 10 percent each of the winning purse money, and with top races offering a young horse $500,000 or more for under two minutes of racing, the incentives were powerful to get them training and running as early as possible.
Lukas was not in the training game to just win any races. He wanted the big stakes races, the big money offered, and the championship trophies. He was changing the game by flying his horses into any track in the country to take the money and run. A frequent joke on the backstretch was that Lukas horses earned frequent flyer miles. He shipped an
d won so many stakes races, the gamblers developed a saying: “Bet D. Wayne…off the plane.”
Every Lukas barn in every city was laid out in identical ways, allowing horses to be comfortable no matter what track they were flown into; no matter where they bedded down. The barns all featured the same deep hay, same brand of oats, and the hayrack and water buckets were always in the exact same place, allowing a traveling horse to feel at home. Lukas, a former basketball coach, ran his operation like a military unit, with nothing left to chance. Lukas was the first trainer to run his barn like a CEO runs a corporation.
The Lukas barn method dominated the sport, but Lukas was earning a reputation of being out of control with the demands he made of his staff. He insisted on perfection in every detail, including penmanship. He required assistant trainers to improve their handwriting, as reading their notes was a problem for him. He demanded 18-hour workdays of assistant trainers and had them call him at four a.m. and one p.m. daily with updates. There were 87 employees in his employ, and he wanted them to call him immediately, even at midnight, if a horse had an injury or illness.
He said, “I think that the discipline you develop outside the barn and the discipline you develop in your life will carry over into the discipline I need from you in handling the horses and in the stalls. We keep our barns spotless, not because a horse will run any faster if the barn is absolutely spotless, but because that discipline will carry over to what does make a difference. The only thing I really cannot tolerate is a lack of effort. And I don’t tolerate that very well with a horse, either. When it gets to that point, I have to say, ‘Look, this horse is wasting my time. Let’s run him for a claiming tag.’”
Today, Lukas’s Winning Colors was going to not waste his time.
Thirty minutes passed quickly, and the horses were being readied for the race. Only five fillies entered the gate for the Grade 1 Las Virgenes Stakes at one-mile, with Winning Colors drawing the number four post position. The entry of the two most respected fillies in America had scared most of the competition away, resulting in a small but talented field.
Klein, his wife Joyce, and guests, were seated at their usual prime turf club table overlooking the finish line. Miami, Dino, and Ava were seated rows above them at their own higher, less well-located table. The attendees at both tables had been down to the paddock to view the fillies as they were being saddled. They’d seen Lukas wearing an elegant blue pinstripe suit and polka dot blue and white silk tie. He had reassembled Winning Colors’ white halter before turning her over to Luis. Luis then paraded her in front of the admiring fans, as she bounced with energy while flipping her long mane side to side. The fillies paraded in front of the stands for several minutes before warming up on the backstretch.
Gary Stevens took his perch atop the tall filly and led her to the track to warm up. As she pranced in the warm up, she bit the filly in front of her before Stevens could snatch her head back. Stevens took this as a good sign.
The trumpet player in his bright red formal coat and black top hat played the familiar tune, “Call to the Post.”
Dino was very confident of Winning Colors and awaited the moment she’d show the world the future champion he believed she was destined to be. He and Miami had bet $3,000 on her at the windows and were excited and confident of her superiority against the current Eastern champion, Goodbye Halo.
Stevens was concerned about Winning Colors as he led her to the gate. She was clearly unhappy as she threw her head up and to the right. She shied away from the gate the first time he led her to enter. She was agitated—starting and stopping her steps. The jockey spoke to her softly, working to ease her spirits. He noticed that her eyes were darting from the gate to the other fillies as he calmed her. She finally entered the gate quietly.
The crowd was loud as the gates opened. Winning Colors broke forward and seized the lead, but drawn to the inside of her position was the speedy filly Bolchina at 23-1. Winning Colors was fanned, three wide, losing ground into the quick left turn. Bolchina dived inside and challenged the lead with Winning Colors, who, for the first time in her races, was on even terms with another horse in a race. Winning Colors’ competitive instinct kicked in and she responded to the challenge as she exploded with speed past Bolchina, sprinting to reestablish herself in front. She’d used considerable energy so early in the race. The two leaders, Winning Colors and Bolchina, were flying on the lead now!
Goodbye Halo was under top national jockey, Jorge Velasquez. He was racing at a relaxed five lengths back from the two leaders, not being asked for more run by Velasquez. The two leading fillies continued dueling on the front end, both wanting the lead.
Bolchina tried but could not get back on even terms with Winning Colors. Stevens suddenly found himself two-and-a-half lengths in front of Bolchina while blasting down the backstretch. Goodbye Halo was relaxed and content several paths outside the rail to let the two other fillies battle for supremacy for the lead down the long Santa Anita backstretch, and then into the start of the stretch turn.
As Winning Colors dove into the start of the far turn, Velasquez asked his mount for run and she willingly accelerated and boldly charged up to within a length behind Winning Colors. For a moment it looked as if Goodbye Halo would rocket past her, but Winning Colors felt Goodbye Halo’s presence on her flank, and again with her long strides accelerated to re-open her lead back to a large two-and-a-half length advantage. Winning Colors and Goodbye Halo stormed down the start of the long stretch together. Winning Colors had been asked twice already in the race to stay in front of two challenging, stakes class fillies.
Up in the turf club, Miami and Dino smiled at each other after seeing their gray filly take control over the field. Ava looked like a princess.
The roar of the crowd was so loud, the fillies and jockeys could hear it even over the pounding of the horses’ feet into the hard and fast dirt of the track. The expected match race between the two best fillies in the country was on!
The fans encouraged their favorites while those at the Kleins’s table shouted, “Keep going!” to Winning Colors.
Dino, normally quiet when watching races, was yelling in a deeper voice than Miami had ever heard in their 15 years of race watching together. “Go baby, go! Go girl…go girl…go girl!”
Goodbye Halo put her head down and dug in, gaining desperate bits of ground with each stride on Winning Colors as they charged together into the stretch run, while distancing the rest of the field. The two champion fillies pulled away from the rest of the field by three, then five, and now eight lengths, up to 30 lengths ahead of the remaining horses.
The race was just between the two star fillies.
Hall of Fame jockey Angel Cordero was watching the battle from the sidelines and later said the race reminded him of the “Ali verses Frazier” boxing ring match.
The two young horses were running full out for their lives as they charged for home, and both dug in; neither would yield to the other. Stevens tried to steer Winning Colors out to the right, trying to race ride her and let her ever so slightly cause Goodbye Halo to not run a straight line. Winning Colors would have no part of it. She darted to the inside, running tucked against and nearly touching the rail, absolutely refusing to quit. Her ears were pinned back while opening again to a length and a half advantage on her foe. Stevens could feel she was tiring and tried to steer her off the rail yet again.
Stevens was thinking about what he’d learned from Winning Colors’ two exercise riders that she hated the whip. They’d told him, “Don’t whip her. You don’t have to…she will give you everything she has. Don’t use the whip on her unless you absolutely have to…if you do, she may do something crazy. Gary, really be careful.”
Goodbye Halo was not done. She surged back to Winning Colors’ side, pinning her against the rail. Stevens reached down and cocked his whip, reached forward and showed it to her, then he reached back, and with some restraint, he used the whip on her for the first time in a race. The sting of Stev
en’s whip continued on his filly as Goodbye Halo was pulling herself forward, in a full-on gallop while inching closer, and closer, racing as a team in unison, side by side, just noses apart.
The wire was close.
Finally, the early demands of sprinting against the speedster Bolchina and fighting off the repeated challenges of Goodbye Halo took its toll on Winning Colors. She was pinned down against the inner rail as Goodbye Halo pulled even and then surged away to a tough, desperate, hard fought, half-length victory at the wire.
The fans were standing and cheering the two gutsy fillies like it was Derby day itself. But the big, gray, Amazon filly was no longer undefeated or invincible.
Miami looked at Dino. He was slumped down in his chair, speechless. His eyes were pointed down at his shoes. He believed in Winning Colors as a world champion and she had not lived up to his dream. He leaned forward to speak, but no words came out.
When Miami turned to look at Ava, he saw that under the brim of her hat, tears were streaming down her face.
Chapter 5
The Hotel Impala
Pari-mutuel tickets with zero value were scattered around the table. Dino raised his head, looked at Miami and Ava, and said, “Miami, you know we are the opposite of counterfeiters.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Think about it. What do counterfeiters do? They turn worthless paper into money,” said Dino as he picked up a stack of losing Winning Colors tickets and threw the stack high into the air like confetti. “What we do is take money and turn it into worthless paper.”
“You’re not helping,” Miami replied. He motioned to the waiter then ordered two Bacardi and Cokes for them and a glass of chardonnay for Ava. They were now officially on a major losing streak, and not just because of Winning Colors. The day before, they’d lost three consecutive race photo finishes. That same week, they’d accumulated over a dozen other losing race bets. They were down much more than the $5,000 bet they’d placed in Tijuana.
The question of whether Winning Colors would even be entered in the Derby came up in conversation. “Why would Lukas and Klein enter her against the boys if she can’t even beat the best of the girls?” Miami asked then added, “But the Derby’s not for another two months, so she still has time to regroup. Let’s hope she’ll rebound. Dino we need to rebound, too. We’re getting killed at the windows.”