Derby Weekend 08: Day 3 (Derby Day)

Derby Day was upon us and we were ready to roll...after strip search, a quick $40 cash at the gate and a $9 mint julep for all, we had officially arrived. We wasted no time heading for the infield and came upon a sweet open spot at the start of turn three, just off the path and spitting distance to a beer stand (and the KFC truck!). The fools in front of us had a tent which is why the spot was so wide open, but we staked the spot anyway, it was close to the fence and slightly away from the true madness of turn 3 so it was all good. Rob and Scott were so excited they demanded I take their picture while sharing a man-hug and a frosty mint julep.

Another sweet thing about our spot was the sheer genius of our spot neighbors. It's always amazing to see the methods by which people manage to sneak booze into the Derby. There are strict rules about what you can bring in and what you can't, and anything you bring with you has to be in clear plastic bags. You are allowed to bring food, but no drinks, no coolers, etc. Every time you go through the gates at Derby you see somebody who just tried to tape booze to themselves and it was easily found. Among the interesting methods employed by our generous neighbors were:

• A dozen oranges with a hold punched in them and soaked in Everclear - my eyes watered just smelling them, and half of one was enough to to start feeling a bit of a buzz (well, half of one plus two mint juleps and 6 beers)


• A chick to the left of us miraculously went from a D-cup to an A-cup after she pulled four plastic baggies full of booze from her bosom; somehow we resisted the temptation to suckly from her booze-teat, though the offer was out there


• The boys to our right (all clad in flight suits and Top Gun costumes), had somehow concealed a fifth of booze in loaves of bread - I'm still not quite sure how they did it because the loaves looked whole and unbroken, but it was high skill indeed

Fortunately for us, Derby day was warm and dry, and the previous days' showers left quite a bit of mud all over the infield, which in turn led to fantastic displays of mud-catfights, mud-slip'n'slides, and the like, in addition to the ritual baring of the breasts for tiny plastic half-cent trinkets. Nothing like a few thousand binge drinkers in one place on a nice sunny day (at least for the first half of the day, until they start dropping like flies).

Menawhile, Tommy tried to explain betting on the ponies to the three virgins...this took a while of course, and I think they need some follow-up lessons, but oen by one we made it over the betting windows to place our bets for all the races that day (there are about 12 races on Derby Day, the #10 race being the actual Kentucky Derby). Tommy did his usual mix of sly WPSs, exactas/boxes, and trifectas/boxes, all based solely on the names of the horses and their odds, nothing more. One little filly really caught his eye though - Baroness Thatcher - no doubt named after the GI Joe character, who is a focal point for one of C-Note and Bilbo's many self-produced acoustic hits. Though the odds were long against the Baroness, Tommy keenly paired the Baroness with Intangaroo, another horse with crappy odds but a cool name, in a $2 exacta box. Sure enough, come race 8 they finished Intagaroo - Baroness 1-2, earning Tommy a cool $450. As is the custom, Tommy returned to the group spot with beers for all, while blowing his nose on $100 bills.

Few people know that there are other very well-known races on Derby Day besides the Kentucky Derby. Perhaps best of all is the annual Porta-Potty Dash, where drunken folks attempt to sprint across a row of approximately 30 porta-potties all lined up side by side, while the bystanders hurl any available object at them in an attempt to knock them off course. Poor Lamar happened to be pissing in a porta-potty during one of the preliminary heats and reported a near-miss of his head (the one on top), as the roof of his porta-potty collapsed under somebody's foot. Here's one example of an uncontested preliminary heat:

Sometime in the late afternoon, after countless $6 tall-boys, they played the bugle, sang the song, and off we were in the 134th running of the Kentucky Derby. I think this one moment is the only time that most of the infield quiets down and focuses on the race. About a third of the infield is way past passed out at this point, as was Lamar after he stole somebody's comfy chair.

My official ruling is that Lamar is still a Derby Virgin, due to this gross violation of protocol. Unfortunately, neither Ells nor Robodo nor Lamar had much beginner's luck at the betting windows, leaving Tommy the biggest winner for the day. As the sun set on Churchill Downs and another Derby was put in the books, we headed out and grubbed at Wick's, the Lousville version of Woodstocks. We hit Bardstown Road for one more night of Derby madness, some White Castle late night action, and the next thing we know Tommy was being stopped for speeding (damn speed trap right here) on our way to the Indy airport. Until next year...