The best part of being a handicapper were the friendships made along the way. – Feel free to quote me if you wish. Not that “Papa” Hemingway would be jealous or Bukowski angry. – It was the friendships that made the cold nights watching cheap Thoroughbreds seem like the Kentucky Derby.

I was too young to hang with dad inside the track. – My mother, brother, and I sat in an old rusty station wagon. Mom would pack a dinner on the “go” and we would do homework, play ball with other race track kids, and occasionally watch a race. Mom was a version of Mr. Rogers, umpire, teacher, and chef. She always made sure we had what we needed as my dad would play a few races. – The process began.

Things change. Yes, they surely do. – I can driving out to watch the final four races on the race card with my dad and grandpa. – I was about 11-yrs-old and relished every second. Especially if my dad had a winner and $2 was sent my way to make a place bet. – There was nothing better. I was in the game and one of the boys.  Making that drive in the “Bet Mobile” was pure magic.

Grandpa ed on, as dad and I made trips to Beulah Park, Keeneland, Louisville Downs, Scioto, Latonia, and the gem of my heart River Downs. – We rooted with the blazing sun on our back and hunkered down in the dank cold basement of Latonia. – The best part of the evening was we were together. – We would talk about the big night ahead on the drive out, and the excuses of how the big one got away heading home. – These times were golden for a handicapper.

I started working at the track as a parking lot worker and dad would make the drive alone. He would ask when I got off and I would run in to meet my gambling partner. $2 bets, cold beer, and friendship. – What more does a man need?

As the years ed, I made my way inside to work as his trips began to diminish. – I was busy and life was in full swing. – I walked around the large track now named Turfway ing every night, bet, and evening spent with my best friend. – My job was taking me up the ladder, but I would still take walks around the building living in the past. – When you do what you love. You get double happiness. Once while you’re doing it and the other looking back with a smile on your face.

Betting on the computer emptied the track and turned it into a ghost town. – No more father/son trips as my dad love’s to sit at home and make wagers on his . – He makes the yearly trek and mainly plays slot machines and keno. Oh, how the game has changed.

Latonia was built in 1959 long before my birth. – My dad was a young man when he first headed out to watch the Trotters and Thoroughbreds depending on the time of year. He and my grandpa were betting buddies. – I made friends along the way. At first, they were my dad’s and eventually my own. – I made lifelong friends who were my groomsmen when I got married, and to this day we talk horses. – In 1986, Jerry Carroll purchased the old gal and transformed her into a shiny new facility. The name changed and the crowds packed. The OTB betting explosion happened and we could wager on every signal being shown. – These were the salad days of gambling. It seemed as if the sky was the limit.

I left the track and worked at River Downs, Keeneland, and Belterra Park over the years.  Since I have returned back to Turfway for the final meet. I work in the racing office and as a placing judge. – At the end of the meet, they will tear it down. Churchill Downs purchased the track and will replace it with a state-of-the-art facility. – The old facility is showing its age and will be replaced. – From the original Latonia in 1883 to the new Latonia in 1959. Then onward to Turfway Park in 1986. This building has played a great role in my life. It was a place to cultivate my love of the sport, work my way into the industry, and meet lifelong friends. As I look back, it won’t be the winning days I’ll . It will be the people. My betting buddies.

I’m sure I’ll take some walks around the building this meet in between races. – Memories around every corner and ghosts from the past bringing a smile to my heart. – These days I find myself making fewer trips to Keeneland, and the Kentucky Derby is watched from my big screen at home. I guess that’s part of the plan. – I look forward to the shiny new Turfway, and I’m sure Churchill Downs will summon the ghost of Matt Winn to keep Kentucky racing growing for the future.