After 132 years of abusing and killing horses – the latest of what surely is thousands happened just Friday – Aqueduct Racetrack is closing for good after today’s card. (At least initially, Aqueduct’s dates will be picked up by the rebuilt Belmont. Still, one less track.)
To give you an indication of how far horseracing’s fortunes have plummeted, consider this from the Thoroughbred Daily News’ farewell-to-Aqueduct piece: When a renovated Aqueduct was reopened in 1959, it says, “a crowd of 42,473 attended the first day of racing at a track that people were breathlessly calling the ‘dream track.'” Eventually, however: “Crowds became so small that NYRA stopped counting a long time ago.”
From over 42,000 to “stopped counting a long time ago.” And to be clear, across the country this – having stopped counting or at least having stopped reporting – is far more the norm than not. In fact, the vast majority of U.S. tracks, including Aqueduct, no longer even charge for admission. For perspective on that, back in 1959, Aqueduct charged $5 for the clubhouse, $2 for the grandstand, the equivalent of about $57 and $23 today.
In its Aqueduct coverage, the Daily Racing Form asked various exploiters to share their fondest memories…
Gary Contessa, trainer: “Some of my favorite days were the ones when the snow was blinding. We would hear Durkin or Imbriale say their funny stuff and we all waited at the sixteenth pole to see who came out first.”
Whip-forcing horses to run at breakneck speeds in “blinding snow.” Hilarious.
Gasper Moschera, trainer: “I remember, before anyone really knew who I was, being in a race with 10 or 12 horses. It was pouring rain, I looked at the board and saw the race scratched down to four horses. My horse loved the slop. I told the rider I want to see how fast they can go the first quarter and he won by 10 lengths.”
See above.
Moschera’s favorite horse was Subordinate, “a claimer who raced 104 times.” “He was a big, black, fat horse and he ran his heart out. I claimed him off of Frank Martin.”
104 turns under the whip.
Rick Dutrow, trainer: “Dad claimed [King’s Swan]…. We never did any good with him until he bled out of both nostrils and then Dad knew what to do and then he went on a tear. We didn’t know he was a bleeder until we seen it.”
Stand-out memory: your horse “bleeding out of both nostrils.”
Good riddance to this house of horror.
Dead, Amber. I just posted about it.
Regarding comments made by announcers to keep the continuity going and maybe get a laugh from the audience, there was a well-known rodeo announcer in the 1960s who would say, “He’s a Union bull!” because the bull would stop bucking at the 8-second horn going off.
Most bulls used for bucking in rodeos keep bucking as long as the flank cinch is still tight, but once in a while there would be one bull that would stop bucking even while the flank cinch was still tight as soon as the horn blew to mark the 8 seconds being up. So for the announcer to say “He’s a Union bull” was part of the “entertainment” in that part of the animal abuse world.
It should be a surprise to no one that the diehard racing industry staff would attempt to find humor in such a hideous misuse of horses as forcing horses not only to perform for their human connections and the gambling addicts, but also to perform in blinding snow.
What would be the point of paying admission to a “show” you can’t see? Evidently, diehards go for the laughs.
Belmont Park can’t go under soon enough. I’m looking forward to that day when the New York Racing Association has to go out of business.
Also wondering about She’s Grand. Saw that breakdown and wondered if she made it off the track alive.
Reading trainers reminisce about racing in blinding snow, pouring rain, or a horse “bleeding out of both nostrils” as though they’re charming anecdotes underscores how normalized suffering is within horseracing. Good riddance to a system that prioritizes gambling and profits over the lives and welfare of the horses who made it possible. The empty grandstands tell a story. People are walking away. The horses never had that choice. They deserved so much better than a lifetime of exploitation disguised as sport. My heart weeps for the horses.
Still wonder how She’s Grand is doing from yesterday. From what I am reading, it doesn’t look hopeful for her.
But like one person said, “Wouldn’t be the end of the big A without one more Linda breakdown”.
Good riddance, “Big A”.