Where The Turf Meets The Surf
Off to the Del Mar Track this afternoon, where Creed is in his element. "I'm here to see a man about a duck," he says (or something like that) to the guy collecting the parking fees, and with those magic words we are waved in. No walking for us, we park just outside the main entrance.
Creed disappears for a few moments and returns with tickets for awesome seats. He knows what all the arcane language means on the racing forum, knows some of the jockies, and basically understands all of this to a far greater degree than I understood was possible.
So with his guidance and knowledge, it's a great afternoon. Mind you, none of us win big (Oh, Jennifer hit a Trifeca for $140), but at the end of the day I had broken even and had enjoyed myself a great deal.
Not a bad way to spend a summer's day.
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