Hitting the Horse Races in Hong Kong
Queen Hillary shares . . .
When I married a Kentuckian, I should have known that horseracing would inevitably hook me. I’ve always loved watching the Kentucky Derby on television – the most famous 2 minutes in sports – and I devoured the book Seabiscuit, but I never experienced a live horse race at the track until visiting Hong Kong last June. Though I’m not a huge gambler, there is still plenty of entertainment to be had. The graceful beauty of the animals and the pure adrenaline rush I experienced as 10 1,000-pound animals sprinted by sucked me in almost instantaneously.
It was Wednesday evening, the once-weekly race night at Happy Valley Turf Track. Situated in a high-class neighborhood on Hong Kong Island, with a stunning skyline backdrop, this racetrack draws yuppie ex-pats, local fans, and long-time professional horse betters, along with travelers like me, all there to celebrate the glory of the race. When I walked in I didn’t even know what a quinella was; within the hour I had not only deciphered the lingo but also learned that Douglas Whyte was the favored jockey and John Size the most successful trainer for the season.
Race 4 ended, and we had a 15-minute break before the starting gun would sound again. It was time to place a bet. Though tempted to choose based solely on the creativity of the horse’s name (my favorite was “Joyful Master”), I had promised my husband I would make an educated bet, which meant I had to study the program. There were 12 horses in the race, and I figured out enough of the jumble of statistics to choose 2 whom I thought could place first and second. I bet 10 Hong Kong dollars (about $1.50 U.S.) in a quinella on Arabian Wager and Good Win. (I couldn’t pass up “Good Win,” though I can say in my own defense that his statistics were as appealing as his name.)
The race began. I didn’t realize that I was bouncing up and down until my husband poked me and laughed. This was exciting! Good Win was running strong, with Arabian Wager in good position, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from the big screen at track center. The cadence of 40 hooves mingled in with the roars of the crowd created a delightful music thick with rhythmic percussion.
“Come on!” I screamed, as my horses began to lag behind. My heart was pounding, probably as hard as the horses’. Two hundred meters to go!
As the crowd gaped, the horses galloped past, and we all waited for the photo finish. This was a close race. When the official results were posted, I felt only a moment of disappointment. My picks hadn’t pulled through. But the horses’ majesty, their wild manes flying through the air, the jockeys’ stealth, and the thrill of the race itself were worth every penny.
© 2005 Hillary Easom
When I married a Kentuckian, I should have known that horseracing would inevitably hook me. I’ve always loved watching the Kentucky Derby on television – the most famous 2 minutes in sports – and I devoured the book Seabiscuit, but I never experienced a live horse race at the track until visiting Hong Kong last June. Though I’m not a huge gambler, there is still plenty of entertainment to be had. The graceful beauty of the animals and the pure adrenaline rush I experienced as 10 1,000-pound animals sprinted by sucked me in almost instantaneously.
It was Wednesday evening, the once-weekly race night at Happy Valley Turf Track. Situated in a high-class neighborhood on Hong Kong Island, with a stunning skyline backdrop, this racetrack draws yuppie ex-pats, local fans, and long-time professional horse betters, along with travelers like me, all there to celebrate the glory of the race. When I walked in I didn’t even know what a quinella was; within the hour I had not only deciphered the lingo but also learned that Douglas Whyte was the favored jockey and John Size the most successful trainer for the season.
Race 4 ended, and we had a 15-minute break before the starting gun would sound again. It was time to place a bet. Though tempted to choose based solely on the creativity of the horse’s name (my favorite was “Joyful Master”), I had promised my husband I would make an educated bet, which meant I had to study the program. There were 12 horses in the race, and I figured out enough of the jumble of statistics to choose 2 whom I thought could place first and second. I bet 10 Hong Kong dollars (about $1.50 U.S.) in a quinella on Arabian Wager and Good Win. (I couldn’t pass up “Good Win,” though I can say in my own defense that his statistics were as appealing as his name.)
The race began. I didn’t realize that I was bouncing up and down until my husband poked me and laughed. This was exciting! Good Win was running strong, with Arabian Wager in good position, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from the big screen at track center. The cadence of 40 hooves mingled in with the roars of the crowd created a delightful music thick with rhythmic percussion.
“Come on!” I screamed, as my horses began to lag behind. My heart was pounding, probably as hard as the horses’. Two hundred meters to go!
As the crowd gaped, the horses galloped past, and we all waited for the photo finish. This was a close race. When the official results were posted, I felt only a moment of disappointment. My picks hadn’t pulled through. But the horses’ majesty, their wild manes flying through the air, the jockeys’ stealth, and the thrill of the race itself were worth every penny.
© 2005 Hillary Easom
posted by Allyn Evans at 9:46 AM
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