The Northeast is a wonderful part of the US. It’s funny how you don’t appreciate what you have when you have it. When I was growing up in the Northeast I couldn’t wait to head west. I thought where I grew up was unremarkable, dirty and cold. Now, when I go back for vacations I’m amazed at the beauty, history and culture that I overlooked as a kid. (It’s still cold, which is why I never go back in the winter.) I spent almost two weeks in a place with a lovely lake, dirt roads, and a close-knit, small community. I gambled sparingly, (I did finally book a win in the card game) and didn’t miss it at all. The thought of coming back to the rat race of Las Vegas gave me pause. However, it’s football season and I’ll soon be back in the swing of things.
One gambling phenomenon in the Upstate New York region is the Saratoga flat track. (The term flat track distinguishes it from the Saratoga harness track, which is across the street and runs year-round, whereas the flat track is open for only 6 weeks in July and August.) Opened in the 1860’s, it has long been a traditional summer meeting place for everyone from the wealthiest socialite to the most ordinary Joe. When I was growing up it seemed everyone I knew saved up his hard-earned money all year just to blow it at the track. While the horse racing industry in general has fallen on hard times (which is understandable, given the plethora of gambling options in the modern era that give the player a better chance of winning) Saratoga is as popular as ever. I never really understood the attraction. It was always too slow for my tastes, and winning in the long run seemed impossible. The day before we came home, one of my buddies invited my wife and me to join him and his wife to sit at a very exclusive table on the finish line. It was a nice experience, but I still wouldn’t want to do it very often.
When we were flying home my wife got in a conversation with an older couple. They had just spent three weeks at Saratoga, going to the track every day. This had been a yearly ritual for them for some 40 years, and was always the highlight of their year. They told us they sat near a certain tree with a large group of like-minded friends they had met there over the years. They both had been fighting serious medical ailments, but you couldn’t tell by the way they lit up when talking about their time at the track. Saratoga is a very special place.
September 1st, 2007 at 9:23 pm
I grew up at Arlington Park and Mayfair in Chicago (my great-uncle worked the cages). No matter how bad the vig, how smelly the stogie of the guy in the corner who never bets, when the last time they cleaned the urinals, etc….
There will always be something special about the track. I’ve never been to Saratoga, but I know just what you mean, and if I head to upstate New York some summer, I’ll make sure I stop by.