Conversations of the Fourth Kind

    “Hello, Lynn Stone?

            “Look, Lynn. I know you’re probably already busy working on next years Derby plans and all, so I’ll try and keep this call brief.  I was just wondering when I could expect my check.

            “What do you mean, what check?  Didn’t you get my letter?

            “You didn’t?  Well, maybe I better explain.  You heard about that bettor in California that took the Tanforan Racing Association to small claims court and collected an additional $659 because he won a race with a 6-to-1 horse and also hit a $68.20 Daily Double, didn’t you?

            “No, there was no problem with the pari-mutuel payoffs, and they paid him the minute he cashed his tickets.

            “Why was he in small claims court wanting another $659?  Well, he simply felt that what they paid him on his winning tickets wasn’t enough money.

            “No, Lynn, I haven’t been drinking.  What happened was that the 2-to-1 favorite in the race the guy won on came out of the starting gate with his shank still attached, and the jockey pulled him up.  So the stewards declared him a non-starter and refunded all wagers.

            “Of course there was an assistant starter in the gate with him to remove the shank, it’s just that the horse was acting up and the starter opened the gates before anyone realized there was a problem.

            “Yes, I know the rules, once the gate opens you’re a starter whether the jockey falls off or the horse drops dead, but they thought this was an unusual incident.

            “No, I don’t know what could be more unusual than dropping dead, but the Racing Board supported the stewards decision.

            “What was the claim for?  Well, the guy figured that if they hadn’t refunded the money on the favorite, his winner would have paid 9-to-1 instead of 6-to-1.  Plus his Daily Double would have been bigger.  So he figured out that the refunds deprived him of $659, which is what he collected in small claims court.

            “Okay, so maybe I had one beer before I called, but that was only to support their advertising budget.

            “No, he didn’t say what he would have done if the favorite had run without a shank and won the race, making his tickets worthless.

            “Did he submit his tickets as proof of his wager in court?  Well, no, he cashed them immediately, didn’t even make a photocopy of them.  All he had was some written statements from ‘witnesses’ saying he bought the tickets.

            “Of course they allowed it, that’s what I’m trying to tell you.

            “Okay, maybe two beers, but they were the small cans.

            “Other claims?  Well, none that I’ve heard of.  Besides, the racing association paid the small claims judgment rather than appeal because it seemed like more trouble than it was worth.  And there was some legal mumbo jumbo about ‘acknowledging but barring’ the claim as well as paying ‘without establishing precedent or waiving right of defense’.  I think that means there can’t be any more claims, but you know how these lawyers are.

            “Yes, I thought you did, but that certainly wasn’t my fault.

            “In any event they paid the guy for what he thought he should have won after he won what they said he won.

            “What do you mean, what does that have to do with you, it has everything to do with you.

            “First of all there’s this matter of that twenty horse restriction you have for the Derby.  Since you put that in I’ve had a bet on every single Derby winner, but do you realize how much bigger my payoffs might have been if you had let in all the other horses that wanted to run in the race?  People would have been spreading the money around on these other horses, thus probably increasing my odds.  So I figure you owe me about a grand on that alone.

            “Trust me, Lynn, they were the six ounce cans.

            “No, I’ve never been there for the Derby, but my bookie pays track odds, it’s certainly not his fault that they weren’t big enough.

            “Well, yes, I understand that you’ve only had to invoke the twenty horse restriction one time since you started it, but can I help it if you can’t fill the field?  Besides, the restriction probably scared away a bunch of horses that people would have bet on anyway.

            “Which reminds me, the year that you actually had twenty one horses was only because you tried to throw Flying Nashua out of the race and some judge said you had to let him in.  At 48-to-1 he was probably a hazard on the track, there might be some pecuniary liability involved here for your inability to uphold your own rules.

            “What do you mean is that all, of course that’s not all.

            “What about that born again maiden you had in 1979, Great Redeemer?  You know, the one that got beat by 47 lengths.

            “It certainly does have a bearing, don’t you remember those photographers who crossed the track in front of him because he was 25 lengths behind the next to last horse and they thought the race was over?  That certainly must have intimidated him.

            “No, I don’t care if the other horses had already crossed the finish line, he probably spotted the photographers about the time he was thinking about making a move on the backstretch, and decided if he ran faster he might hurt somebody.

            “If a loose shank is good enough for an extra $659 to some guy with the winner, then a bunch of photographers running around on the track before the horse even finishes should at least be good enough for a refund.  You’re lucky I’m not asking for a return on his 78-to-1 odds.

            “What?

            “Yes, I know I said I bet all the winners, but I put an extra twenty bucks on that one just in case God really was on his side like the owner claimed.  You can’t be too careful in this business, you know.

            “Now, another thing that bothers me is how many times your stewards might have cost me a Derby winner by not saying anything.  Like this year, if Current Hope doesn’t knock Caveat six wide turning for home the horse maybe wins by three.  But does anyone say anything?

            “So what if the horses in front of him weren’t involved, it’s the principle.

            “What were the stewards doing in 1933 when Herb Fischer and Don Meade were practicing karate on each other at the sixteenth pole?  They put the rose on Broker’s Tip so fast he didn’t even know the race was over.

            “Okay, so maybe it was fifty years ago, I still might file an appeal on behalf of Head Play, you know how slow the courts are anyway.

            “What difference does it make if I wasn’t born in 1933, I can always say my Dad bought an Advance Wagering ticket for me.

            “You didn’t have them then?  Well, I can always say he bought a regular ticket, who’s going to know the difference if they don’t need a ticket or a copy of it to collect money that they thought they should have won?  As I see it, all I need are some written statements from my Dad’s friends that he bought tickets for me as a present for whenever it was that I would be born.

            “Well, yes, I suppose they probably are all dead now, but that simply means you won’t have anyone to cross-examine in your unsuccessful attempts to refute the written statements.  As a matter of fact, if I could get this into a California court, I might end up owning your racetrack.

            “No, no, I’m not threatening you, Lynn, I wouldn’t want to be a nuisance, I’m sure you have enough problems.  Tell you what, if you’ll just send me a check for $659. like they do in California, I’ll forget the whole thing.

            “You what?  You will?  Well, that’s very decent of you, although I’m not sure what you mean about getting me off your back.

            “Anything else, you say?  Well, there is this matter of a $100 Win bet I made on Forward Pass in 1968.  I mean, you paid people for some horse that the courts later declared to be a drug addict.  Since Forward Pass was subsequently awarded the purse, both I and a retired psychopath I met in a bar the other night agree that I should be able to collect the $320 I should have been entitled to when a whole bunch of chemists…

            “Hello, Lynn?  Are you there?  Lynn?

            “Oh, hello, operator.  Yes, I seem to have been disconnected.

            “You’re trying again and there’s no answer?

            “Well, never mind, operator.  Why don’t you connect me with Chick Lang at Pimlico instead.  Tell him it’s collect and I want to talk about my tickets on Genuine Risk in the Preakness.”