Life without the track
So here we are the first Sunday of the Saratoga season and none of us are driving up the Northway, searching for cheap parking and meandering into the fabled flat track. I guess when Coronavirus told us it planned to wipe out all the fun stuff of 2020 it wasn’t kidding.
If you’re keeping track, I have missed out on seeing Michael Buble sing at the TU Center, Dear Evan Hansen perform at Proctors, a trip to Las Vegas and numerous other fun things that occupy a man in his off hours. I’m sure you can give me your own list of everything that this virus has taken away.
I know, I know, I still have my health and that truly is a lot. I think one of the reasons we’ve all done so well with the virus around the Capital Region is because we have taken this serious and worn the masks and washed our hands until the skin peels off.
If you told me on St. Patrick’s Day this canceling of our lives would still be going on four plus months later I would have called you cuckoo. I guess the joke is on all of us.
I understand why NYRA is still running the horses, even without fans, but it certainly is strange seeing them roar down the stretch to the sound of silence. Something about it just doesn’t feel real.
It’s interesting too that I have zero interest in betting and I’m someone who enjoys putting a couple bucks on a horse when I’m at the track. See, that right there is the key though, “at the track.” When I’m there a switch flips and I feel like gambling.
Take me away from the track and I could care less.
I have the same odd behavior when it comes to drinking alcohol. If I’m being social, out to dinner or over at a friends for a barbecue, I’m happy to pop a top on Sam Adams. But find me home alone and the idea of drinking doesn’t appeal to me in the least. I guess in my goofy brain there is something more nefarious about drinking or gambling alone.
I feel bad for so many people who rely on Saratoga in the summer months. Without the concerts and attendance at the races, you have to know the crowds will be much thinner. I did see some businesses were being creative and setting up big TV screens and tables for dining to simulate the feeling of being at the track.
It’s a smart play for sure and perhaps my wife will want to try it one day before summer slips away.
I have a funny feeling many of the changes being made because of Covid are going to leave a mark on us and we won’t be so quick to switch back to how things used to be. Because I’m home so much now, I finally gave in and started paying many of my bills online. Yes, I know, I’m a dinosaur for taking this long but when you’re born in 1962 you get used to writing a check and attaching a stamp to an envelope.
I always loved going to the movies but this has forced me to buy something called a Roku and I’m watching Netflix and Amazon Prime much more than regular old TV. Even when this virus leaves us, I won’t be quick to drop fifty bucks on a movie and snacks for myself and the wife at the theater.
What’s funny is how much I miss driving up to the track now that I don’t have to. My TV news job always required me to go to Saratoga 24 times every summer. I think by late August I could identify every single maple tree alone Route 9 if they were placed in a police line-up.
But now that I’m stuck back at the ranch and there’s no cheering crowds to say hello to; life is a bit emptier.
No banging into the sweaty crowd at Siros, no wandering around in the dark trying to remember which yard you parked the car in. No tearing up tickets and boring your friends to death with stories of how much money you would have won if that lousy longshot that nobody bet on, hadn’t pushed his way up to second place in a throwaway claiming race.
I know some people can’t stand horse racing. I get it. I have always found it fascinating how it is the one sport that puts deadbeats and millionaires shoulder to shoulder, both screaming for some jockey to “bring it home.”
Not this year though. Thank you Covid-19.
So I won’t bet this summer. Not a single buck on a single race. I’ll chalk this up as another thing the virus took away from us in 2020. Don’t be surprised if in a year or two you see someone running a horse called Covid. He should be easy to spot.
He’ll be the only one wearing a mask.