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Moonlight Over San Diego

Moonlight Over San Diego

Sunday, August 2, 2020.

It’s 4:51 Pacific Time.

“On to the track for the 7th race.  Post time in nine minutes”

 

Del Mar thoroughbred racetrack is located in San Diego.  I have never been to Del Mar.

I have been to San Diego once.

My brother Gary lives in San Diego.

Often when talking about my brothers I would refer to one as my “California brother” and the other as my “Cancer brother.”

In fact, the only trip I made to San Diego was to visit my “California brother” and it was with my “Cancer brother” Carl.

It is a nice memory.

Though I didn’t know it at the time he wanted to make that trip because he thought his cancer that was in remission had returned.  Thankfully that turned out not to be the case.

After that, we would kid him a little that every time he traveled or showed up somewhere unexpectedly it meant it was time for us to go buy a suit.

Like the second trip he made to San Diego with his wife Teesha, and the Mother’s Day he showed up unannounced at my mother’s after learning he had mesothelioma.

It was never really funny, but in more hopeful times it got a little laugh.

I would probably visit San Diego more often.

But you know, you have to be invited.

Then, of course, there is the virus.

 

“The horses are now approaching the starting gate.”

 

The seventh race at Del Mar was scheduled for 5 o’clock Pacific Time which makes it 8 o’clock here on the east coast.

The seventh race at Del Mar is special to me today because one of my horses is entered. You may recall from my post “We’re Going to Make It…” that I made a very small investment in four two-year-old fillies.

 

“The horses have now reached the starting gate.  It’s Post Time!  They’re at the starting gate for the seventh race at Del Mar.”

 

Moonlight D’Oro is the two-year-old daughter of Medaglia d’Oro, the dad.  Medaglia d’Oro was a very successful grade one stakes winner who raced until age five.  Moonlight’s mom Venetian Sonata was also a grade one stakes runner who had marginal racing success.

The conditions of the race are the requirements a horse must meet to be entered into a race.  In this case, the conditions are that this is a Maiden race at five furlongs for two-year-old fillies only.  The maiden term means none of the horsed entered have ever won a race though they may have started other races but just not won.   The purse is $55,000.

In the case of Moonlight d’Oro,  she has never run a race.  She is a first-time starter. She had been working out very successfully and as a result her trainer Richard Mandella felt it was time.  Of the four horses I made my very small investment in, Moonlight d’Oro is the first to be entered into a race.  She will exit the gate as the number 4 horse and will be ridden by jockey Flavien Prat, a French jockey who has been riding in the States since 2015.  So far today Flavien has already won two races.

Moonlight d’Oro was the morning line favorite to win the race with early odds at 8 to 5.  Currently, as we get close to post time, she is 2 to 5, the heavy favorite.

 

“Roll Up Mo Money moving in with Moonlight d’Oro.”

“They’re off!”

 

Thoroughbred racehorses all turn a year older on January 1st.  Therefore, any horse foaled in 2018 as far as race conditions are concerned is considered to be two years old in 2020.  Moonlight d’Oro’s actual birthday was May 2, 2018, so she is twenty-seven months old today.  Though it is not unusual for a horse to begin racing as a two-year-old it is just as common for trainers to wait until they are three when they are a little more mature.

The more well-known races such as the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness, and the Belmont, otherwise known as the Triple Crown are limited to horses that are three years old.  Most of the time the entrants to these races are male horses though there have been some girls who have been successful running against the boys like Winning Colors in 1988 and Genuine Risk in 1980 and Regret in 1915.

 

“Moonlight d’Oro finds herself six lengths off the lead early on.”

 

One of the unusual aspects of this seventh race at Del Mar is that none of these horses have ever been entered in a race.  They are all very young and very inexperienced.  Their only practice has been working out in the mornings, running against a stablemate or two, and breaking from the practice gate.  Therefore anyone of these horses could step up today and win this race.  One of them will “break their maiden” today.

 

“Nothing yet from the favorite Moonlight d’Oro who’s at the back of the pack”

 

The workouts are timed by the “clockers.”  Therefore there is some data, though not always considered to be very reliable, on how a horse may be progressing in their training.  Moonlight d’Oro produced a “bullet workout,” in other words, one of the best of the day at Santa Anita back on June 13 and has worked well over the Del Mar surface at five furlongs in preparation for this race.

 

“And they’re into the stretch. And it’s Roll Up Mo Money who has taken the lead”

 

I should probably go visit my “California brother” more often.

I was just kidding about the invitation, he asks us to come out all the time.

I can’t visit with my “Cancer brother” anymore.

I should probably learn something from that.

But we don’t always learn.  I have written about that before.

Then of course there is the virus.

 

“Closing in between horses is Moonlight d’Oro who’s kicked it in too”

“But Roll Up Mo Money is going to do it”

 

I don’t know if investing in these horses will ever turn out to be good as an investment, but it has been certainly worth the well-needed distraction.

Moonlight d’Oro had a big kick at the end and finished second.

She ran a really nice race coming way off the pace and closing nicely.

She will be fine.

She made another nice memory.

 

My Ride’s Here

My Ride’s Here

I was staying at the Westin
I was playing to a draw
When in walked Charlton Heston
With the Tablets of the Law

He said, “It’s still the Greatest Story”
I said, “Man I’d like to stay
But I’m bound for glory
I’m on my way
My ride’s here…”

 (From “My Ride’s Here” as written by Paul Muldoon and Warren Zevon)

 

I got a nice email from Mike Vineyard back in early May.  Mike is the brother of Steve Vineyard, my pastor who passed away unexpectedly back in January of this year.

You might remember.

I won’t share it exactly but in his email he said he had read and enjoyed some my posts and had even subscribed to the website.

I don’t know Mike.

He didn’t remember meeting me and truthfully I don’t remember meeting him either.  Ever since having Donny’s funeral at the Sterling United Methodist Church, I don’t like to attend funerals there.    So I generally make myself as busy as I can be helping out in some way that keeps me distracted.

But I surely appreciated his comments and his desire to receive my future posts.

 

“My Ride’s Here” was the eleventh studio album released in May of 2002 by singer-songwriter Warren Zevon.  I read that he described the album as a meditation on death.

It was released several months before Zevon was diagnosed with a type of cancer called mesothelioma.

Warren Zevon passed away in September of 2003 at the young age of fifty-six.

 

According to the Mayo Clinic:

Malignant mesothelioma (me-zoe-thee-lee-O-muh) is a type of cancer that occurs in the thin layer of tissue that covers the majority of your internal organs (mesothelium).

Mesothelioma is an aggressive and deadly form of cancer. Mesothelioma treatments are available, but for many people with mesothelioma, a cure isn’t possible.

The primary risk factor for mesothelioma is exposure to asbestos.

 

My brother Carl had mesothelioma.

He died on Tuesday morning, about fourteen months after his diagnosis, at the young age of sixty-six.

 

According to my California brother Gary, who recently was able to spend a week with Carl, he told him that he really liked the song “My Ride’s Here” by Warren Zevon.

Zevon didn’t know he had mesothelioma at the time that he wrote that song.  Yet most interpretations believe “My Ride’s Here refers to the last ride, the one that takes us to the other side.”

Another wrote: “I hope when my time comes I can show half of the class that Warren had and that I can catch my last ride with the dignity he had. There’s no warning, no big production, just the fact that it happens to all of us.”

My brother was a class act.  A genuinely nice guy.

Back in April, I connected with a friend, Lee Scott, who was part of the group of friends we hung with back in Jersey in the early 70’s via Facebook.  I told Lee coincidentally my brother and I had been reminiscing  and talking about him a short time before that.  He asked about Carl and I explained what was going on.  In his response, he said he was sorry to hear and that Carl “was always the more sane of us.”

He was.

He was the pragmatic one.

 

We have all heard this said I’m sure “yeah I know that guy, he would give you the shirt off his back!”

In the literal sense, I don’t know if my brother Carl would have given you the shirt off his back.

He needed that shirt to hide the wounds, the scars, and the colostomy resulting from years of fighting rectal cancer, then lung cancer.

But he would have given you anything else you asked for and more often, even if you didn’t ask.

He just showed up.

Then he met a form of cancer he couldn’t beat, one where “a cure isn’t possible.”

And he faced it with dignity, continuing to give right up to end.

 

I still don’t know Mike Vineyard.

But I feel like I know him a little better today than I did last week.

I know what he felt like back in January and I expect I know what he feels like today.

 

Since Donny’s accident, I believe as the Bible says, God knows the day your ride is going to show up.  I know that it happens to all of us, and as much as we would like to think otherwise, we don’t have control.

And so Tuesday morning, without a lot of production, and to some degree for us, without warning, Carl decided, as the song said,

“Man I’d like to stay

But I’m bound for glory

I’m on my way

My ride’s here…”

 

 

Well, okay then.

 

I wish you would have waited another hour or two, but I understand.

 

You couldn’t miss your ride.

 

I love you.

 

I will see you when I see you.