My degenerate horse race gambling buddies and I hit this race on Thursday. The horse's name is Western Prospector, the #1 horse closest to the rail with the great Calvin Borel up in bright yellow silks. It was never in doubt.
When the horse was at the eighth pole Marshall Gramm breaks out and does the Riddler dance again. What a goof, but it appears to be involuntary when he has a fist full of wining tickets.
He is probably at the dog track in West Memphis, Arkansas right now having blown what he won Thursday. If you see this face on the left bumming a ride home, take him back to his wife and kids. If he looks hungry, buy him a hot dog. But do not under any circumstances listen to any touts he may offer or lend him any money.
But if you happen to see my brother, on the right, tell him I said hi and it is time to leave the track and come home.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
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