McLean: A handicapper's apt end to a sad weekend

On Sunday, I posted my normal handicapping selections for the Fair Grounds. As always, I gave my horse selections, divided into groups of preference, and then added a few sentences about the horses that I like the most, and a few more about my betting strategy.

People have asked me often how long it takes to handicap, analyze, and then write it out. I normally shrug and give them an estimate. Truth be known, I don’t want to even think about the amount of time that I have spent in this endeavor of love over the past year.

But, rest assured, the work load and time is considerable. No doubt. After Sunday, I have now handicapped 1,873 races this year. And I have tracked every single one of them in a spread sheet. First time in my life’s past performance that I have done that.

And, it has been a true growing experience for me in many ways. I have found out a lot and altered my handicapping because I now have a “history” that is accounted for, and accredited.

On this Sunday, though, I came across a race that truly caught my eye and touched my heart.

It was the 5th race at the Fair Grounds.

I was plowing through the past performances of the race, like every other one of the 1,873 that I have done this year. The details. The patterns. The notes. The nuances. The changes in equipment. The changes in the race surface. The changes in jockeys. The speed figures. The closing times.

Then, about midway through the race, I saw it. The trainer’s name. The memory it immediately launched.

On Saturday, I lost one of my best friends, mentors, advisors, and soul buddies — Horace Ray Thompson. I wrote about him in a column that I posted on Saturday. I hope you read it. The man meant the world to me.

I wrote about how much he meant. Wrote about his sage advice and counsel. Wrote about this encouragement and support.

I also wrote about a time when I called Ray — an ardent handicapper and bettor — and told him about a horse that I liked at Keeneland, and that he might be a nice longshot to bet on that day.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the horse would go off at odds of over 100-1. And, sure enough, the steed stole the day, the show and the race. Ran off to win by over 10 lengths.

Both Ray and I made some money, for sure. As soon as I saw the result, I turned my car around and headed to Louisville's Owl Creek Country Club — where Ray was the bartender. We laughed. Joked. Slapped hands. Hugged. It was a great day.

We have now long spent the money. Most of all, thought, we made a memory that never got spent.

As I was handicapping Race 5 for Sunday, I suddenly saw the trainer’s name: Lee Rossi. He was the same guy who trained the 100-1 shot at Keeneland that memorable day. And, suddenly, there was his name blinking like a Christmas Tree light right in front of me.

Now, mind you, Lee Rossi doesn’t have as many horses as Bob Baffert, or Todd Pletcher, or Steve Asmussen.

Going into Sunday’s race at the Fair Grounds, Lee Rossi had started only 29 horses this year. Total.

That’s 29 horses all year long.

So what were the odds that he would have a race running on Sunday? The day after Ray’s passing?

I don’t know what the odds were, but they had to be astronomical. All I knew was that it had to be a sign. Had to be. I knew then that I had to bet that horse. Didn’t matter what it looked like on paper. Didn’t matter what it looked like in person. Didn’t matter the odds.

I had to bet that horse. Had to bet it. The #5 in the 5th race. Had to bet it.

And, then I read on down the list of the other horses in the race.

The #6 was named “Cry Like a Baby.” And, I had done that, for sure, when I heard of the Ray’s passing.

The #7 was named “Overly Sweet.” And, that described Ray to an absolute tee. (After all, Ray was the bartender at Owl Creek Country Club. Tees come in handy there, too.)

So, this is what I wrote in my daily handicapping piece on Sunday:

“5th: 8-3-4/2-1/5-6-7…Squatchingwithlyss (8) will be making her second start here since arriving from Chicago. Ran second here on Nov. 22, but was beaten 10 lengths. Now, she will be stretched out to a route for the first time, and the barn hits with .20% of those kind. The trainer also hits with .26% of those going from a sprint to a route. Gets the meet’s top rider in the saddle, and looks to be the top choice. Calaveras (3) will drop all the way from a MSW event to MCL $15,000 today. The barn hits with .20% of those dropping into the claiming ranks for the first time, and this one will get the blinkers off. The barn hits with a whopping .35% of those — out of 54 starts — that lose the shades. This one moves back from the turf to the dirt, and gets the barn’s go-to rider up. Dangerous at a potential price? Ice Ghost (4) is another who is dropping from the MSW ranks all the way to $10,000 tag today. Ran well on debut, but then showed nothing on the grass last time out. This barn hits with .28% of those dropping from MSW to MCL. Love the apprentice rider form. Has only one win in the first 31 rides here, but I think he will be just fine. I bet the 8 to win/place/show and then box the top 3 numbers in the exacta. I will key the 8-3 over/under the 4-2-1 in two smaller ones. (Editor’s note: I am going to box the 5-6-7 in one more for personal reasons. If it hits, it will pay boxcars. And, I will play a small wager on the #5 across the board.)”

On Sunday, I tuned in for Race 5. I was nervous as could be as 19-1 longshot Twirlingontheedge — a 2-year-old filly — loaded into the gate, with rider Marcelino Pedroza. Can’t remember the last time I was so on edge for a maiden claiming event for $15,000 — when I didn’t have a horse of my own running in it. But I was nervous.

When the gate opened, Twirlingontheedge was bumped slightly and fell immediately to the back of the eight-horse field. My heart fell a bit, too. I wanted to believe in this horse. I wanted to believe so badly that this was a message from the beyond. I wanted to believe this was meant to be. I wanted to believe that Ray was talking to me — some how, some way. I wanted to believe this was fate and “our moment.” I wanted to believe.

To be honest, friends, I truly needed to believe. I needed to believe that there is something better; an explanation why the good ones always go away; a reason.

A quarter into the 1-mile and 70-yard race, Twirlingontheedge was still last. Halfway, it had only one horse nipped. Three quarters, he still languished at the back, just in front of two others. Five were still in front of him.

Then, it happened. My Christmas miracle.

Moving wide into the turn, here he came. “He” to me was “Ray” himself, as much as it was the horse.

Three to four wide through and out of the turn, “They” (Ray and the horse) brushed slightly with Cry Like a Baby. And, then “They” kicked his ass.

Rooting like crazy now, I was standing and yelling at my computer screen. My three golden retrievers were barking. I think they were cheering, too. At the 16th pole, Twirlingontheedge drifted in just bit. But it didn’t matter. Horace Ray Thompson was riding that damn horse.

At the wire, “They” were ahead by a half length.

“They” had won.

Twirlingontheedge — which is exactly what I had been doing ever since I heard the news of Ray’s passing — had won.

Horace Ray Thompson had won.

I pointed right up to the sky, and I yelled out loud. “We did it, old pal. We did it.”

The victory gave Lee Rossi his third win of the year.

The victory gave me a chance to say goodbye to Ray, in style.

The victory gave me hope and faith that I will someday see and be with Ray again.

The horse didn’t go off at 100-1, but 19-1 didn’t pay too badly. Missed the exacta. Cry Like a Baby ran third at odds of nearly 90-1. Overly Sweet, at odds of 117-1 finished seventh.

But I won something far more important on Sunday. The money will be gone soon. Always goes. But I made another memory. Another one for life. Another one for death.

And, at least for a brief moment, I knew that Ray was still here.

One last time, he was looking after me, like he always did.

Now, for the rest of time, looking down on me, like he always will from now on.