No Fun

Went out to see some music, so to speak, on Saturday night; it was the second of three nights of No Fun Fest 2009, at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn. And that was rather appropriate, because it was no fun for me to watch Rachel Alexandra win the Preakness. At least I didn't drop a bundle on the race since I never came up with any strong opinion....other than she was gonna get beat. But it's not particularly fun to have to admit to being wrong, as assertive as I was with my opinion, not only about the race, but about what it might do for the sport in terms of publicity. I knew I was incorrect about the latter as soon as I saw the banner headline about the race on the front page of the Post on Saturday morning.

Having said that though, I would still argue that, with Mine That Bird having proven rather conclusively that his Derby win was no fluke, and the compelling nature of a rematch in the Belmont notwithstanding, there would be significantly more excitement about a potential Triple Crown winner than the silly 'battle of the sexes' angle that NYRA and NTRA will have to rely on. (And, in what is my own anecdotal test, whereas several workmates came up to me after the Derby, I haven't gotten a single 'how about that filly' today.)

This being New York City, all three nights of No Fun Fest 2009, dedicated to the musical genre of extreme noise, were sold out, including the two nights I did not attend, neither of which were headlined by NYC legends Sonic Youth, as was the case on Saturday. In keeping with the spirit of the affair, the band deferred to, well, noise, and did not preview any songs from their forthcoming new album (on Matador!), The Eternal, due to be released on the Tuesday after Mine That Bird gets his revenge at Belmont. Other highlights included another personal fave, Philadelphia's venerable Bardo Pond, who I hadn't had the pleasure of seeing live for the better part of the current decade, along with Yellow Tears and Pedestrian Deposit.

This stuff is not for everyone I know, and not all of it works; but even then, I for one can fully appreciate those who not only break the mold of the insipid pap which passes for popular music these days, but, quite literally in some cases, smashes it to bits. When done right, it can be entrancing and captivating, and beautifully intricate and precise in its own way. And, not to mention, a perfect soundtrack for the times (and for the daily subway slog to and from work).

So, if I'm so open minded about that kind of stuff, why is it that I wasn't at all regarding Rachel Alexandra being in the Preakness? After all, I've often written about how today's trainers have become far too formulaic, trapped as they are by the current fad of light racing schedules and, in some cases, bound by irrational fears. "Damn it Toddster, give that Dunkirk some races!" I'd advised. Jess Jackson's move to change course and start her on short rest broke the mold; it was bold and daring, especially coming so soon after the disaster which roiled the sport last year. (And, by the way, where the fuck is William C. Rhoden when things go right???)

So what the hell was my problem? I guess it was just the connections themselves. In my mind, Rachel Alexandra went from a charming and inspirational story of connections with modest backgrounds lucking into a once in a lifetime freak to a $10 million story of corporate sloth. Kinda like if some lame corporate-"punk" band like Fall Out Boy did an album of Stooges covers. Contrived, phony, and with only the bottom line in mind.

And I still tend to believe that was indeed the case. Of course, it matters no more, because now the story is the horse, who transcended my fears - and I was truly afraid for the filly and for the sport - and raced into history. Easy to say now that those fears were unfounded. And this post is not intended to signal that I've been won over and will be leading the cheers three weeks hence. In fact, a reader emailed to suggest that Mine That Bird's connections pick up a rabbit or two to run her into the ground, and that seems like a great idea! :-)

But in any event, I was certainly wrong. I put my opinions out there for better or for worse, and sometimes they don't work out. I'm not at all embarrassed. But it's no fun.

- Just to show that there are no not that many hard feelings, this track from Sonic Youth's seminal double LP (remember those?) Daydream Nation is hereby dedicated to the 2009 Preakness champ.