If I ever get filthy rich, I'll be dangerous. I'll be wearing big, showy hats at the Derby; eating lots of fresh crab at the Preakness; and singing "New York, New York" at the Belmont. But don't hold your breath. I'm not. My lottery tickets have all been duds so far. I don't see that changing any time soon.
I'm sad. I really had wanted Calvin Burell to get his personal triple crown today. It didn't happen, although he gave a good ride. Mine That Bird's brother, Summer Bird, beat him, but not by much. Calvin just has that joie de vivre that makes me smile. Perhaps he'll be another Willie Shoemaker and ride for a long, long time. I hope so.
One thing I am happy about though: Rachel Alexandra's owners had the good sense not to run her. I feared for her safety at a mile and a half. Apparently, they thought that might be a little much as well. I love to watch horse racing. But I love to watch healthy horses more. So, I hope that the racing community will continue to birddog their trainers, jockeys, owners, etc., forcing them to put the welfare of their horses first, not purses. Yep, those purses are big. But the question of ethics is bigger.