Get Drunk At Delaware

            I sometimes get awfully tired of thinking up new ways to Save Racing.

            Which is why I was delighted when I not only conceived the ultimate solution to the problem of sagging racetrack attendance, but also recognized that in its own unwitting way the industry is actually taking advantage of this unlimited promotional tool.

            Forget the posters, rock bands in the infield, and free key chains to the first 20,000 patrons.  The answer has been under our noses all along.  The key to the future growth and success of racing is simply to get the public drunk.

            Now the consumption of alcoholic beverages within the sport is hardly anything new, most of us have been getting potted around the tracks for years.  Hardly a day goes by that you don’t read a ruling in the Form about somebody on the backstretch getting fined or suspended, usually because they were so plastered they were trying to put a saddle on the pet rooster.

            Most of us know someone in the sport who is normally a paragon of virtue, at least until you find them elbow room at a track bar five races before their horse is running.  And I certainly don’t want to talk about the press boxes, at least not since the day I saw some guy fill a mimeograph machine with Scotch and then proceed to pour himself an ink cocktail.

            But our problem in the past is simply that we haven’t promoted getting blasted out of your skull that much to fans.  Here we are, having all this fun, while trying to induce the marginal fan to drive twenty miles just to get a free cap.  I mean, given a choice, do you want an engraved Zippo or a double Manhattan?

            I concede that we have hardcore patrons who stagger out of the track throwing away winning tickets, and that they are invaluable in their dedicated efforts to support track bartenders and stoopers.  And it’s a particularly expensive dedication in the former case, as anyone who has ever tried to get drunk at a track bar will appreciate.

            But what about all those people walking out sober?  More importantly, what about all those closet drinkers sitting at home all day guzzling Old Liverrot, or the ones juicing it up in a nearby saloon while staring mindlessly at a television set?  This is a major market, and an inexpensive advertising campaign could have them practically stampeding the track for the opportunity to pass out in the infield after six races.  Can you imagine what a free drink chit with every $20 wager would do for the handle?

            Let’s face it, America wants to get loaded, and it behooves us to take full advantage of this opportunity.  Don’t you think a tired commuter in a New York subway station would pay more than a little attention to a poster that invited him to ‘Get Blitzed At Belmont’?  A car with a bumper sticker that says ‘I Saw Carlsbad Caverns’ isn’t nearly as thought provoking as one that says ‘I Got Crocked At Calder’.  The possibilities are endless for what could be the greatest promotion since the Cracker Jack people started putting prizes in their boxes.

            Fortunately, as I said, the industry is already utilizing the idea in a minor way even though, as usual, it doesn’t really perceive what it’s doing.

            The most obvious example of this utilization is the Kentucky Derby.  The Mint Julep did a helluva lot more for this races attendance than the opportunity to mud wrestle in the infield between Frisbee contests (which by itself is simply an outgrowth of Mint Julep consumption).  Otherwise intelligent people travel hundreds and even thousands of miles to watch someone put some greenery in a glass of sugar and bourbon and charge an outrageous price for the privilege of saying they drank what my wife prefers to call a bourbon snow cone.  I mean, do you seriously believe 140,000 people go to Churchill Downs to buy a T-shirt?

            The people at the Old Fitzgerald bourbon distillery recognized this back in 1974 when they decided the international aspects of the Washington D.C. International deserved an international drink, and got Laurel to go along with promoting the Fitz Mist.  Now you might consider a chilled Old Fashioned glass full of crushed ice and Old Fitzgerald with a lemon twist as something a little less than international, especially if your tastes lean more towards sipping cognac in Paris.  But, then, Old Fitzgerald isn’t in the cognac business.  Besides, Kentucky is bourbon country, right?  And isn’t Kentucky synonymous with racing?  Score one for the Old Fitzgerald marketing department.

            Someone in Chicago was certainly cognizant of this alcoholic trend in 1981 when they came up with the Cool Million as the official drink of the first running of the Arlington Million.  However, they deviated from the bourbon concept, and avoided the squiggly chlorophyllus additives attempting to undergo photosynthesis that clutter up a Mint Julep.  Instead they presumably got a carload price on a peculiar California mixture of white wine and champagne impressively labeled Almaden Le Blanc de Blanc, threw in some Midori Melon Liqueur and some sweet and sour mix and, voila, the Cool Million was born.  Of course, it’s difficult to compare the Cool Million with a Mint Julep or a Fitz Mist, not only because of the difference in ingredients but also a Cool Million is less likely to get you drunk, so that sort of kills the ‘Get America Swacked At The Track’ concept unless you drink an awful lot of them.  On the other hand, when they renamed the race the Budweiser Million, it would seem logical to replace the sweet and sour mix with Budweiser.  Any experienced alcoholic will tell you that white wine and champagne mixed with beer will certainly produce some interesting results.

            Even more curious than the fact that tracks are increasingly recognizing the promotional aspects of special libations is that people are even making up drinks in honor of horses.

            Consider, for example, the birth of a drink called the Sunny’s Halo in a Toronto bar.  Now it was no coincidence that the bar was owned by Patty Cross, whose husband happened to train the 1983 Kentucky Derby winner.  And it’s no surprise that this combination of cointreau, tequila, amaretto, orange juice and a scoop of sherbet ice cream became so popular after the first Saturday in May that year that they were thinking about raising the price.  “It’s mostly a fun drink,” Dave Cross commented about the recipe that was actually created by their 22 year old daughter for a contest in which, surprisingly, she won a prize.  “But it’s not bad,” he added, noting that he tried a Mint Julep on Derby Day and didn’t like it, while similarly indicating his personal preferences leaned towards Southern Comfort and vermouth.

            Still, the Sunny’s Halo offered definite marketing possibilities.  As Los Angeles Times writer Bill Christine noted, “it’s not meant to be consumed by anyone planning to go the Derby distance of a mile and a quarter.”

            The promotional possibilities of relating drinks to tracks, races and the horses tend to stagger the imagination.

            Stakes races, past and present, such as the Jim Beam, George Dickel, Seagram Cup and, of course, the Champagne, are obvious.  But, less obviously, a track such as Belmont could promote something as simple as Triple Sec on the rocks in honor of Triple Crown winner Secretariat.  “This is where it happened,” they could advertise, “and with our Triple Sec this is where it can happen to you!”

            Pimlico could come up with a drink called The Inquiry.  Now I’m not sure what should go into this, but I assume whatever the stewards were drinking the day Codex mugged Genuine Risk would make a pretty formidable libation.  And Caliente could probably double their attendance with a tequila specialty.  (“Hey, amigos, you want firewater?  Caliente is the place to be, no?”).

            I mean, doesn’t ‘Loaded At Longacres’ make you want to grab the next plane?

            Of course, some tracks would have to be careful.  The Anita Bryant Screwdriver might not go over very well in Florida once the public realized that it didn’t include any vodka.  Whereas ‘Stoned At Sportsman’s’ should certainly be worth a few thousand extra fans.

            And, even the naming of horses could be part of this promotional package.  They broke ground in this area in California with the offspring of Third Martini, one of which was named Tee Many Martoonies.  Another, Martini Mood (whose original name of Stinkin Drunk was rejected) once delighted hunch bettors in an Exacta race with Moonlight Cocktail.

            Why can’t a horse named Port Wine be promoted to lure the $2 bettors to the track?  America doesn’t want pen and pencil sets, they want an excuse to get blasted.  Offer them this chance in the form of exotic cocktails and drunkenly named horses and you might have to close the admission gates at 10 AM.

            In an era when other sports stadiums are frisking their customers for wayward flasks, the promotional tool of the future is staring us in the face.  Instead of frisking them for flasks, we should give them flasks!

            I discussed this the other evening with my favorite bartender, and we came up with some great ideas for a new book devoted to sure-fire racetrack drinks that would help spearhead this trend.

            Unfortunately, in our enthusiasm to Save Racing by sampling our recipes, we seem to have forgotten them all somewhere between ‘Sloshed At Saratoga’ and ‘Bombed At Bay Meadows’.

            But we’ll keep working on it.