I am most sorry for the young ones, the newbies.
They who didn’t sit for 15 minutes knowing unequivocally what it felt like to have witnessed a Triple Crown winner, all unbridled joy and relief and passion, in tears and laughing for that skinny bay colt named Real Quiet. And then, as quickly as it happened, it was stripped away. A hollow, deflated feeling replaced that joy – but the memory of it was still there. We’d finally gotten it – then it slipped away. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy.
The newbies now only know the heartbreak – War Emblem, Funny Cide, Smarty (oh Smarty!), Big Brown – and now I’ll Have Another. The tyranny of “What If?” will follow him for all time, for unlike the others, he didn’t even get to try his luck at Belmont Park.
The newbies now know what that dread hollowness feels like. They now have a piece of the cynicism that infects us long-timers, the first of what will be a deeply-rooted infestation should they show up again in the years to come. Oh, how wonderful would it have been had these youngsters seen a Triple Crown winner so early in their fandom! It’s what we all wish for, right?
And yet – with each Triple Crown season I am renewed as a racing fan. I carry all the emotional battle scars of watching these horses, and have learned who to put my faith in when the big race rolls around. Despite all the naysayers, I am certain that the 12th Triple Crown winner is close at hand. I’ve stayed up late to see the Super Moon. I’ve looked through a pinhole camera to watch the solar eclipse. And I will never forget where I was during the Transit of Venus. The stars will align for that most rare of equine accomplishments. I want those new fans to feel the excitement of a Triple Crown, and like an addict looking for the next high, I want to feel it again, too.