No Schiller in Sheets

- It was halfway through the Breeders’ Cup program and the day was at a crossroads. It had been a frenetic day from the second we walked in, around 20 minutes before the Juvenile Fillies. We headed straight for the paddock, which was overflowing with a crowd dressed in preparation for the cool weather, giving it a truly World Series-type atmosphere from the moment we walked in. It was obvious that there were many visitors who had made the short hop over from the UK; the Head Chef pointed out that British men really know how to dress! From the paddock, it was off to the windows and I was right into the day without skipping a beat, and feeling a little overwhelmed - by the crowd and the lines and by the magnitude of the horses that were there and the races being run. I was running up and down, up to the seats, down to the paddock, up to the windows, back down, where I had the great pleasure of seeing Jessica again, and of meeting my other fellow bloggers Patrick, Brian, Quinella Queen, and reader Jim from Rochester, cool! I needed to calm down and drank some bourbon we had brought in, and while it provided the desired effect, in retrospect it was probably a mistake.

Now, before I knew it, the Sprint was over, Lost in the Fog had lost, and though I didn’t have any tickets still alive by the time we got to the Sprint, I found the result extremely disappointing and a big letdown. "Just inside the eighth pole he had nothing left," Russell Baze said. The shine of a potential star had been seriously doused, and we’ll be hearing the ‘I told-ya-so’s’ from all the ‘I told-ya-so’s.’ (May I point out that Battle Won finished last?) Worse yet, the race had been won by the kind of horse whose dramatic improvement since transferring to the barn of his current trainer is the sort that raises suspicions of the game’s integrity.

I’d had no luck at the windows to that point. In the Juvenile Fillies, I was immediately faced with a decision. I’d liked Wild Fit for weeks, but just before leaving I saw a note from reader Walter about a highly negative assessment of the filly’s last work by a clocker that he called ‘very, very good.’ A valuable insider tip? Or too much information? In this case, I opted for the latter, sticking to my convictions, and I was almost rewarded, as her remarkable rally from far, far back, fell just a length or so short.

Sorcerer’s Stone was disappointing in the Juvenile, Karen’s Caper tired badly in the F&M Turf, Lost in the Fog had been vanquished; now what to do? The Mile was upcoming, and a race that many had conceded to Leroidesanimaux now seemed wide open with the announcement that the favorite would be outfitted with aluminum pads. He had worn bar shoes for his last workout, but Frankel had promised he’d be reshod with regular shoes. Now, every smart guy I’d spoken to was going against him; all the bloggers, and those in the group with whom I was sitting, and sharing bourbon and having a nice time.

One of these guys at the seats, a friend of the friend I’d gotten the seats from, someone I’d never met before, was looking to partner in some dollar Pick 4’s, based on singling Saint Liam. We both agreed that Saint Liam couldn’t lose, so I was all ears. He liked Stellar Jayne and In the Gold in the Distaff; I had grown more and more in favor of the former as the day progressed. I didn’t like In the Gold at all, but I said OK, as long as we could also use Pleasant Home, who I’d picked as a longshot possibility for exotics. He was a Sheets guy, took a look, mumbled something about “forging,” and nodded in approval.

We agreed on the three foreigners Bago, Shirocco, and Azamour along with Better Talk Now and Fourty Niners Son for the Turf; and we wanted to spread the Mile to beat Leroidesanimaux in the Mile. “Who do you like?” he asked. Now, as I mentioned the other day, I never really handicapped the Mile. I was sold on the King, and once I read in several places that even the Europeans, many of whom thought they were going to win three races on the day, felt that their contingent was subpar, I didn’t even bother. So now, with time ticking down and facing lines that had been annoying all day, I started from the top – “Well, Artie Schiller, Funfair, Majors Cast....”

“No, I don’t like Artie Schiller or Funfair.”

Oh. Hmmm. O....K...., I mean, I didn’t really do the race, and here’s a smart guy with Sheets telling me these horses are no good. They sure looked good to me; how much sharper could either of them be, particularly Artie Schiller, who has never ever run a poor race? Another Sheets guy there made a disparaging comment about Funfair, like ‘oh yeah, he’s gonna have the rail open up at the right time for him again today.’ I dunno, I guess I figure if people pay forty bucks, or whatever it is, for a single day’s worth of Sheets, they must have better information than me. And though the bourbon had calmed me and was keeping me warm, it had, as usual, dulled my ability to make crisp decisions, which is why I usually prefer not drinking at the track. So I just deferred; I went along. When we did the math and figured we could include one more for the Mile, and it was left to me to add another, I wimped out and chose Leroidesanimaux, who was getting bet as if there was nothing wrong.

You can figure out the rest. The return on my share of that Pick Four would have been some $4325. This was not a handicapping failure, but instead one of my own passivity and confidence in my knowledge and handicapping skills. In the Juvenile Filles, I discarded the warning on the workout, and stuck with what I believed. In the Mile, besides being unprepared and in little condition to handicap efficiently, I showed no confidence at all, perhaps even feeling a little intimidated by someone who I thought knew more than me. What in the world could have possibly been on the freaking Sheets to convince me that Artie Schiller was not a contender in this race? Even through my alcohol-induced fog, just a glance at the Form showed that he just had to be on that ticket! Why should I, or any of you, ever think that someone else’s opinion is better than ours, whether it’s Mike Watchmaker or some guy with Sheets? Or with a blog for that matter?

So I had already blown my budget for the day, and had to borrow, or should I say, “borrow” money from the Head Chef. I can’t really explain nor recall what happened in my mind to make me NOT use Pleasant Home on top in the Distaff. I guess I just didn’t really think she was going to win the race, but at 30-1....damn! I recall my childhood racing mentor in these situations repeating over and over to me “If you really liked him, you would’ve have had him, so you didn’t have him because you didn’t really like him.”

But the smart guy with the Sheets, alerted to the longshot by yours truly, now did like her, and he did use her on top and ride it to the $2045 Pick Three. He felt bad and wanted to compensate me somehow, but the Head Chef and I had planned our prompt escape following the Classic finish and, with no IRS forms to be completed, were quickly out to the parking lot. An amazing day of racing, about which I’ll be back over the next few days with more, and another valuable lesson learned. I’m hoping to be able to sneak back to Belmont for a few races today.