Let's Eat

Saratoga is many thing to many people. Aside from the obvious appeal of going to the races and making a wager, it has the appeal of going to the races and eating. To some, the place is one huge outdoor restaurant and takeout place.

The recent week I spent at Saratoga from my vantage point on the outer rim of the Fourstardave seating area gave me an unobstructed view of just how ravenous the patrons are at Saratoga. The NYC Mac N' Cheese truck parked just opposite where I sat nearly always had a line for their $10 bounty of macaroni and cheese served up in a takeout container. The only time there wasn't a line was on the Thursday we suffered through a day-long downpour and the Mac N' Cheese truck closed down and the workers went home early. Rain tends to curb appetites.

The boast of NYC macaroni and cheese has left me a wondering a bit as to when did NYC become famous for Mac n' Cheese? Cheesecake, yes, Nathan's hot dogs, yes, but not macaroni and cheese. And the food truck. I'm not in the city like I used to be, so I don't know if after Saratoga the truck picks out a spot in Manhattan and serves up their goodies to a lunch crowd. But after their take from Saratoga, the truck might just be parked in a garage for the remainder of the year.

Then there's Hattie's chicken, the famous fried chicken that not that long along started being offered at a chicken shack just outside the Fourstardave. The line for Hattie's often looks like a line at the DMV or the unemployment office. It stretches well back that when you want to make a bet you have to pierce through the line. How many pounds of chicken they must need to keep the place going is beyond me. A Travers Day crowd had to deplete whatever they brought in.

Which got me to thinking. As horses are brought to the stables in vans, the food must be brought in huge refrigerator trucks well before the hungry descend. I have no idea what the lines looked like at The Shake Shack for burgers and fries, but I can imagine.

Horse of course eat as well. And on rare occasions, they try and eat each other. This is known as "savaging," when a horse tries to bite another horse, niggles at their neck and head. It is not a playful nudge, it is a full scale Dracula attack, something like Mike Tyson going for Evander Holyfield's ear. 

It happened in yesterday's Forego Stakes race when Youpon on the rail, was set upon by Firenze Fire who went for Youpon's head in a BIG way, even nearly pulling Youpon's bridle off. Jose Ortiz on Firenze Fire had to stand up in the stirrups and yank Firenze Fire away just as they were inside the sixteenth pole. Firenze Fire was on fire, and might have won if his attention wasn't directed at Youpon's anatomy. Youpon prevailed, despite the attack, an won by a head.

The DRF chart caller immortalized the stretch duel in the chart:

"...Firenze Fire...began to savage that foe [Youpon] badly coming to the sixteenth-pole, continued to savage that opponent while the rider attempted to reach up and pull him off using the right rein, lost momentum in the process, had the jockey's hand slip off the rein multiple times while trying to gather it up, was finally able to grab the rein about forty years from the wire while bumping at that juncture and just missed."

Barbara Livingston, the peerless DRF photographer, of course caught the action in the above photo, just as she caught Firenze Fire being savaged in 2018 by Whereshetoldmetogo, a photo that won Barbara an Eclipse award. In that race, the Gallant Bob Stakes at Parx, Firenze fire prevailed and won.

After yesterday's Forego Stakes there was animated conversation as to what would have happened had Firenze Fire gone on to finish first even after savaging Youpon. The consensus went to "I don't know," to believing that Firenze Fire would be disqualified from first place. A moot point, but still interesting.

I'm amazed the NYT now allowed Joe Drape to now write two pieces from Saratoga. The first, 'Postcard from Saratoga,' was a friendly piece about the resilience of the area's patrons to keep coming back and diving forward for those coveted picnic tables as soon as the gates open at 7 A.M., despite the first race not going off till 1:00 P.M.  

The second piece, appearing in Saturday's paper was a more sober piece about the fate of racing for the next 100 years given the numerous doping scandals and actions of bad players, notably Bob Baffert, impinging on the integrity of the sport and how the fans see it.

"It is easy to come here each summer and believe all is right in the Sport of Kings.
Until reality intrudes."

Joe of course is right, recounting the massive number of indictments now headed for court that ensnared trainers Jorge Navarro, Jason Servis and many others. And then of course there's the cases involving Bob Baffert, whose horses have tested positive for a variety of substances transmitted through ointment and even hay. The official outcome of Baffert's Medina Spirit winning this year's Kentucky Derby, or getting disqualified for a banned substance is still pending.

In yesterday's Ballerina Stakes, a $500,00 Grade I handicap race for fillies and mares three-years-old fillies and mares up going 7 furlongs, Baffert had the overwhelming favorite entered, Gamine. Despite Baffert recently winning a stay of NYRA's ban on his presence, Baffert himself didn't make the trip from the West Coast, instead having his top assistant Jimmy Barnes saddle Gamine.

The broadcasters' conversation on Gamine was her record, and the fact she was running with an aluminum pad, but not her disqualification from third in the 2020 Kentucky Oaks having tested positive for a banned substance. She has a tainted past due to Bob Baffert.

Joe of course feels the poetry of Saratoga..."Church is in session each morning at the Oklahoma training track, where the faithful work their binoculars like rosary beads as a drumbeat of hooves drift to the heavens,"...will be threatened by doping if it is not forcefully addressed.

Certainly, but my take on Saratoga is it will survive anything as long as there is enough food to feed the patrons.

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Rod Gilbert

I knew if I lived long enough I was going to start reading the obituaries of the players I used to watch in what would be my golden age of sports: the '70s.

I was pretty much a die hard New York Rangers fan, having season seats from the late '60s through 1978, I think. I was a Ranger fan ever since my father took me to a Saturday afternoon game. There were always two on the schedule at the Old Madison Square Garden on 8th Avenue and 49th-50th Streets. And Pat Doyle always announced a welcome to the 'young hockey fans' at the games.

All through high school I went to games having spent the $1.50 or $2.00 to sit in the balcony. The team was never great, maybe not even good, but I loved watching hockey. I was there the night the goaltender Cesare Maniago stopped Bobby Hull from getting his historic 50th goal (Channel 9 was televising the mid-week game) We chanted Cesare's name constantly, even leaving the arena. Hull of course later got his 50th goal, but not that evening against the Rangers.

So certainly I saw Rod Gilbert play. I don't think I had a favorite Ranger, maybe Jean Ratelle, the stoic center who with Vic Hadfield on the left and Rod on the right would comprise the famous GAG line, the goal-a-game line that clicked effortlessly during the early '70s, pumping goals in like clockwork.

My season seats were in the green seats, the 300 series, row M, just below a press box, at about the blue line, looking over the zone where the Rangers were on the offense twice. I saw a lot of Ranger goals scored by that line.

Their passing was amazing. The puck seemed to be magnetically attracted to their sticks when they passed among themselves. In that era, left handed shots played left wing, right-handed shots played right wing, and the center could he either a left or right shot.

Ratelle as a center was the tallest of the three, and seemed to slide into the slot area with ease, passing the puck when needed to his wingers. I once read that his stick had a "lie" that in effect allowed Ratelle the stretch his stick out further to make plays. The lie is the angle of the blade to the shaft. Ratelle's angle was a bit shallower than others. He was a consummate playmaker.

Gilbert of course didn't always need a pass from Ratelle to score. He raced down the right side, avoided a defenseman. and shot, a blistering slap shot. I used to laugh a bit to myself when Rod would take the big windup, fake the shot, and move in closer. He never seemed to score with that maneuver, however.

It's funny to read in the obituary, and Gerald Eskenazi's NYT tribute that Gilbert was known as 'Mr. Ranger.' I never heard that name applied to him. Gordie Howe was Mr. Hockey, but Gilbert didn't have a nickname that I was aware of.

Ezkenazi in his piece tells the story that the Ranger publicist, John Halligan, came up with the name GAG line—goal-a-game. Halligan had to be the greatest publicist on earth because even as bad as the Rangers were for many years the reports from John were always sunny.

You have to have been a fan from my era to remember how annually Halligan would tell the Ranger fan base that Alan Hamilton, a right-handed defenseman, was learning the ropes in the minors, and would be soon making a notable addition to Ranger backliners. Alan Hamilton never made it to the parent club. He never made it to the NHL.

It was noted that Gilbert's idol was 'Boom Boom' Bernie Geoffrion, the rugged Montreal Canadian winger who earned the nickname because his shots sounded like cannon fire when they missed the net and hit the boards. Ironically, Geoffrion would become a Ranger in his later years and play with Gilbert. Emile Francis got Geoffrion in a deal for Boom Boom's shot from the point on power plays. He was a worthwhile addition, even later becoming one of the many Ranger coaches, albeit briefly. 

Gilbert was of course from the helmetless era, and Rod's matinee looks were always on display. My theory has always been that any guy who parts their hair on the right side is always a good-looking guy, like Cary Grant.

When airlines advertised their appeal with their stewardesses' looks there was Judy from Eastern Airlines, urging you to fly Eastern. Urging you to fly Judy. And decades ago Rod succumbed to the ad and married Judy. It was interesting and nice to read that he was still with Judy when he passed away at 80 in his Manhattan apartment.

Rob was hockey's version of Joe Namath, the bachelor who made Manhattan their home. He was part owner of a bar on the Upper East Side, Mr. Laff's I believe. I was there once, but never saw Rod.

Gilbert of course never was on a Cup team for the Rangers. It was nice to read he was in the Garden when the Rangers finally did win their first cup since 1940 when they beat the Vancouver Canucks in seven games, a series that should have never gone seven games. The Rangers always did things the hard way.

The teams in the early '70s, when the GAG line was at its peak were great Ranger teams. They always seemed to beat the prior year's Cup champs to advance in the playoffs. I think it was the '70-'71 season where the Rangers lost only two games at home. Of course there were ties then, but with only two losses and you knew they were good. 

The Cup series in 1972 against the Bruins was their chance to bring the silverware home. But Boston was also great club, and as Emile Francis said afterward, 'Bobby Orr killed us." I still think there was a point in that series that Boston score two short-handed goals on the same Ranger power play. Boston's penalty killing was the best.

After the late '70s I've only ever seen a few Ranger games. I wasn't there for the retiring of Rod's number, or any of the other numbers. and I was only in attendance on TV when they won the Cup.

I don't follow the Rangers as much anymore, and don't even watch a lot of hockey on TV, but I have my Garden memories of Rod streaking down the right side and winding up and seeing the goal twines bulge when the shot went in.

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The Homecoming

Saratoga Springs became famous for the therapeutic properties of its mineral water. The Spa. Nowadays the place is famous for water of another kind: rain.

Just back from the famous place that Red Smith said if you make a turn on Union Avenue and go in, you go back 100 years. Well, for me it's not quite a 100 years, but it is several decades I've been showing up at The Spa, only once interrupted by the lockdown of 2020. 

The great writer Thomas Wolfe once said you can't go home again. But he probably never kept going to Saratoga. In the Frank Loesser musical Guys and Dolls, in the 'Adelaide's Lament' number, Adelaide, the very long-term engaged Hot Club performer, is bemoaning her continued state of non-matrimony to Nathan Detroit by recalling that they head for Niagara Falls for what she hopes will be her nuptials, only to "get off at Saratoga, for the 14th time!" The train keeps going, but she and Nathan keep getting off. Still not married.

I always remember this part of the show when arriving at Saratoga via the Northway, where the exit number is 14. Frank Loesser couldn't have known this when the lyrics were written, because the Northway wasn't around in 1950. But maybe someone else did. 

This year it has rained often at Saratoga. The whole region has gotten a liberal dousing nearly every day in July, and now August. For our five day stand this past week we had all turf races taken off the turf on Thursday—a day of heavy rain—and on the other days only a few of the carded turf races remained on the turf. There were a lot of scratches. 

The effects of the pandemic are hardly over, despite the mask-free environment. Restaurants are short staffed, and are closed extra days during the week. As usual, we got to eat at the venerable fried chicken place Hatties on Wednesday, but found it closed on Sunday when we doubled back. Frustrating.

A favorite post-meal haunt, The Northshire bookstore closed at 7 P.M., before we finished eating. The Lyric bookstore already has been closing before we get there, and now the Northshire. No bookstore browsing.

One gem did emerge when the town was strolled through—the Crafter's Gallery, where there is always an assortment of photos, posters, and other trinkets. I always go through the photo bin and this year I came up with the absolute gem pictured above.

I've never seen this photo from Secretariat's 1973 Belmont. It's mind blowing to me, notably because I was there that fateful day, and when I look up from the computer I see the famous photo I have of Ron Turcotte looking at the board and noting the telemeter time. You have to be of a certain age and well into your Medicare benefits to remember the Secretariat era. Most people have no connection to it.

The photo is at first a bit confusing. Are we looking at a workout at the Oklahoma training track? That can't actually be a race, can it? Yes.

Note the marking on the quarter pole, ¼, The pole doesn't look like that anymore, and is not marked with the ¼ marking. I don't know who took the photo. The photo is unsigned. So, despite a bit of a deserted, partially closed up town, I walked away with a gem. 

And with four more days in attendance—lengthened by the downstate hurricane that forced us to stay an extra day— the week's worth of wagering was highly successful.

On getting home, I caught up on the papers and saw that Joe Drape of the NYT  had a short piece on the Saratoga loyalists who show up at ridiculously early hours to claim a picnic table of battered wood. On Wednesday, I happened to spot Joe at a table in the Fourstardave area, seated with friends and relatives. 

I introduced myself since Joe and I were expecting to run to each other at the track. I had just hit my first winner, and therefore was in a sociable mood. I teased Joe about his being on a "busman's holiday" and he replied he generally is not in the press box for the races. We discussed favorite betting formats (I don't love multi-led wagering; Joe will allow himself to take an interest in the last Pick-4).  

With betting on our minds, we didn't get a chance for a long conversation. Spotting Joe again after the 9th race he boasted, "we're alive!" I didn't see Joe after that, but the Pick-4 did pay a decent $108. I hope he had it.

Joe's 'Postcard from Saratoga' piece in Tuesday's paper nicely captures the spirit of the Saratoga patrons who make securing a picnic table an accomplishment as good as hitting a Pick-Six. The upstate patron doesn't travel lightly to the races. They always look they're going camping. They are always carrying coolers, pulling wagons with folding chairs, and erecting four-posted awnings when it rains. They are land rush people on a mission.

I didn't know the gates opened as early as 7 A.M., but that helps explain the billboard sign that Dunkin' Donuts is open at 7 A.M. We wondered who was at the track eating donuts 5 hours before post time?

I think I'm reading the betting handle is up this year, which is not surprising given all the wagering platforms that bets can be placed through and that last year was a pandemic anomaly. Personal on-track wagering is probably not a great percentage of the handle, since from the seats at the Fourstardave sports bar you can see the parade of people who pass by with nary a program, Racing Form, tip sheet or newspaper in sight. But they do have food. These people eat.

It is nice to see so many people at the races, even if it appears that they're more interested in showing off their summer dresses, hats and fascinators. It is certainly a different crowd from us downstate denizens. It's an upstate beach without swimsuits.

As for the this year's wagering, even with the off-the-turfers and multiple scratches, we bet of 49 of 51 races and never had to reload the initial voucher, and only dipped ever-so slightly below the initial outlay. Less than the price of lunch.  

Best race viewed? There were several. Any of the ones with a winning ticket.

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Personal Ensign

Maybe Matt Amodio is Personal Ensign. Because he certainly pulled one out on Friday's Jeopardy show and remained undefeated, now an 18-day champion, third place overall money winner in regular games. He is a very distant third however behind Ken Jennings and James Holzhauer. But he's not done yet.

Matt came out of the gate fine, but was beaten to the Clubhouse turn by Nicole Neulist. At one commercial break he was actually behind. Stay clam, Plan B. It's not a pure sprint. Nicole, the contestant on the right, was sinking the answers like a hustler's run in 9-Ball. Matt was being hooked by a very capable opponent. A match race was in the making.

And why wouldn't it be a match race? Nicole Neulist, (@rogueclown) trapped Matt in a speed duel. She is a race track chart writer for Equibase for Arlington Park, and a former lawyer. Detail is her middle name.

The breakaway point in the game came when Matt sunk the 9-ball with an all-in Daily Double bet that doubled his money and let him pull ahead of Nicole. Nicole on the other hand floundered on a Daily Double bet, but was staying at least ahead of Matt if her money were doubled on the final answer.

Alas, Nicole went into the final round in the also ran spot of having slightly less than half of Matt's total. Matt had pulled ahead into the cat bird position with a late rally of low money answers/questions. Nicole's fate was being sealed. She only could win if she bet it all in the final round, aced the answer/question, and Matt did something thoroughly foolish with his betting. Not to be.

Nicole couldn't beat Matt, but she had way more money than the poor fellow in the middle, who was pretty much forgotten about, Eric Shi. She could beat him easy, since she had several multiples more than his total.

Anyone who knows the show, knows that second place is $2,000 and third place is $1,000, not a huge difference, but still spending money. With Nicole's Hail Mary all-in and not knowing any part of the final clue, she was destined to finish third. 

The final clue was: 19th-Century Women: 2 of the 3 women depicted on the first statue of real women in Central Park, unveiled in 2020.

I was certain of one, Susan B. Anthony, but couldn't think of Sojourner's last name, Truth; and I didn't remember Elizabeth's Cady Stanton's name at all. Poor Nicole was all in, and knew none of the names. Stumped. She finished third with $0. Sham to Secretariat.

Matt of course was cagey, and bet a $1, as I thought he would (or $0 would have worked as well), but did know two of the names: Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Matt prevails, and gets the blanket of flowers across the withers.

They write that Friday's show was the season finale. I know they tape a week's worth of shows in a day, but, the story goes they haven't started the new season's taping yet. It will be next month. So what shows up on Monday, a low-level maiden claiming race?

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I Just Plain Didn't Know This

Josephine the Plumber was a major child movie star in the '30s and '40s. And lots of people knew this.

I grew up with a TV in the house starting in the infancy of TV in the '50s. I don't remember Show of Shows, but I would guess my memory starts somewhere with whatever was on from 1955 onward. My mother and father were not known to watch TV, and I was an only child.

So when Jane Withers passed away at 95 I was astonished to learn that the woman who played Josephine the Plumber in those Comet cleanser commercials in the '70s had been a contemporary of Shirley Temple and had nearly as big a career in movies, singing, dancing and acting.

My folks never watched the Comet cleanser commercial and told me, "that's Jane Withers, she was a child movie star." None of my friends knew either. No one ever told me.

Of course not knowing was not the worst thing in the world. She never seemed to be a Jeopardy answer. Maybe the producers didn't know either.

No matter. The joy of reading obituaries is learning something you didn't know, even if it's only the identity of the actress who in bib overalls with her name stitched across the top in script was a big deal hawking Comet cleanser as a superior way to get out those stubborn stains in sinks and tubs. Stains are always stubborn.

The advertisers wanted a woman, because who of course was near, or cared about a dirty sink? Certainly not the lug in the living room in a T-shirt slugging a can of beer and watching a ball game. (That was the image a history professor at City College in the '60s tried to convince us was the best example of a human waste of space. I never bought it. Dad?) No, cleaning was woman's work, and a woman knew what to do to get the job done.

Why cast her as a plumber? Then, and even now, you're not going to encounter too many any female plumbers. It's a dirty job that requires you to spend a good deal of your time working upside down staring at supply lines, fixtures and nuts and bolts. Wrenches are heavy.

Through the wonders of YouTube I've now re-watched some of Josephine's commercials. I imagine the Comet people chose a plumber because they were always near dirty porcelain sinks and tubs.

Jane's childhood fame was so endearing that Aljean Harmetz's  NYT obituary tells us FDR had his wife Eleanor personally deliver a teddy bear to the child actress. She received many teddy bears and dolls it turned out.

If you were familiar with Jane as the childhood movie star you would easily recognize her as the plumber. The same chubby cheeks were still with her, the chubby, childish cheeks any grandmother or aunt would pinch and pull when Mom brought you over for a visit and you were told you could have one piece of candy from the dish. Jane was a cutie.

Apparently, in the movies, Jane portrayed a brat who inevitably got spanked at the end of the movie, probably just to prove naughtiness didn't pay, not when in her first, major movie role in 1934 she played a brat who wanted a machine gun for Christmas, and rather than pull legs off spiders, she abused her dolls and sent them to the "hospital." What a toughie.

Most kids of that era wanted a six-shooter, but the girl in Bright Eyes (1934) wanted a machine gun. And she hadn't even seen the Untouchables either.

Jane Withers might no longer be with us, but the cleanser Comet is. It's under our sink, where you might find a plumber—male or female these days.

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Playing with "Their" Money

Matt, Matt, Matt. Are you already trying to buy a house? Have you been looking online between shows? Do you have a girlfriend who's already spending your money?

Matt Amodio, in case anyone is still unaware, is plowing through Jeopardy like a hot knife through frozen butter. This week's guest host, Joe Buck may as well just start out with baseball calls and tell us, "it's out of here," because Matt is knocking them over the fence.

Okay, Matt builds such commanding leads in money that unless he really does something stupid, he can't lose, even with tanking the Final Jeopardy question/answer.

And he does tank them. Lately with massive wagers that take his day's earnings down to amounts that used to be what F.D.I.C. insured savings accounts when I was a kid: $10,000; or a winning share in the World Series for a Yankee in the '50s. True.

Last night's show was another example of Matt making a big wager, albeit an "I-can't-lose-this-game wager" on the final clue.

The question/answer was: A penguin species found in South America is named for this 16th C. man whose crew were the first from Europe to see them.

The answer was Ferdinand Magellan. You know, the guy who sailed around the world only to become someone's Happy meal. I missed it. I was thinking Emperor penguins, Tuxedo penguins, but nothing with someone's name. Missed the embedded clue about 16th-century and crew, which would lead you to think an explorer with a ship.

Matt initially had Magellan, crossed it out and went with Drake. Being a Ph.D. candidate in computer science at Yale, Matt has certainly taken his fair share of tests. Doesn't he know not to change his first answer?

I know he's not losing, and gets to come back on the show for the next episode as the champion, but only adding $10,000 to your pile is a lousy rate of return for your smarts.

Matt reminds me of all the gamblers I've ever met tat the track who when ahead will tell you, "I'm playing with their money." Yeah, are you ahead for life?

Matt, ease up on the I'm-ahead-what-the-hell-bets and look for a place with more rooms when they finally knock you off the show. Just like in horse racing, they all lose sometime, unless of course you're Personal Ensign.

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The Jeopardy Walkover

Matt Amodio

I simply can't help it. Perhaps it's because I'm headed to Saratoga in a few weeks, having of course missed it last year for the first time in probably 28 years, due to the pandemic. Maybe it's where my mind is most of the time anyway. No matter. I can't seem to shake the racetrack metaphors to the run of the current Jeopardy champion Matt Amodio, now an 11-day winner who has turned his opponents into totem poles.

I'm not a die-hard regular Jeopardy viewer, but you gotta admit, when it gets this juicy, the plot lines start to flow. I've now set it up to record in case I can't plop down at 7 o'clock E.D.T. to watch the latest.

I was a bit busy last night and only peeked into the telecast at about the 7:20 mark as it was recording. That's near the end, and it was plain to see Matt had $42,000 or so, and BOTH opponents were in negative numbers; red.

Jesus, another blowout, beyond what I would have imagined. Since 7:20 is near the end of the show I was imagining what would happen if Matt's opponents each have no money for the final round, and are both asked to leave the set while Matt does a solo?

Like racing, I'm sure the producers have envisioned this scenario and have a procedure for it. Like racing and scratches in multi-leg wagering, there has to be guidelines on what to do when the unusual happens.

In racing, when there is only one horse that is primed to run in a race, for whatever reason, it is called a "walkover." The solo entrant is loaded into the gate, the gate is sprung, and the horse completes the route at their workout speed and collects a reconfigured, lower purse. Of course there is no betting, and when it's done, the effort goes into the record books.

Walkovers in racing are rare, and the one I remember is when Spectacular Bid did a solo in the 1980 Woodward Stakes. at Belmont.

So, last night, would Matt have been there by his lonesome as the Final Jeopardy question/answer was asked under a category labeled Declaration of Independence? 

The  first published announcement of the Declaration was by a Philadelphia paper that reported it in this foreign language.

Moot point, because when I again took a peek at he recording of the show on my DVR I saw that Matt's two opponents were armed with $600 and $400 each. Jesus. Talk about bringing a knife to a gun fight, that's bringing kindergarten scissors to a knife fight.

Neither of Matt's opponents got the answer right. Now Matt's an affable looking guy who you might like to spend some time with discussing hockey, but he got more than a little wild last night.

What was Matt's answer? Mine was French, as was one of the other opponents. Another opponent had Dutch as their answer. Both wrong. Matt also answered French, which wasn't harmful to his chances to become an 11-day champion, but was harmful to his day's stack of winnings, $43,200, depending on what he wagered. Bet.

And here is again where Jeopardy reminded me of horse racing. My late friend, the human FourstarDave, was an excellent handicapper, but was thoroughly lousy with managing his money, betting money and money in life. When he passed away he was subsisting solely on Social Security checks.

How many times did I sit with him at OTB as he picked winners from Finger Lakes and Gulfstream  Park while we waited for the next NYRA race and hit with some thoroughly obscure exacta for say $120 for a $1 from past performances that would lead you to believe each horse had only three legs.

And then the recklessness kicked in as he'd line up a $60-$70 triple ticket on the NYRA track and watch as it dissolved in front of him. The only way Dave could leave the place ahead was if the time to leave and come over for dinner coincided with money left in his pocket. That, or the lights had to go out, which didn't happen.

Okay, Matt's French answer was wrong. The know-it-all host at this point, Dave Faber, explains why German was the right answer. There were lots of German living in the Philadelphia area at the time, and still do in the Germantown section of Philly. (My wife has several cousins who come from Germantown.)

And what did Matt wager? An astounding $37,000! bringing his day's total down to a very pedestrian $6,200, obviously enough to beat the opponents, but really, Matt, what were you thinking? He looked embarrassed. He should be. FourstarDave lives on Jeopardy.

I'm wondering what racetrack memory will be triggered by tonight's episode. Matt, what have you got in store for us?

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The Human Arazi

I had no plans to comment on back-to-back Jeopardy telecasts with Matt Amodio as the champion. It's just turned out that way.

The prior posting leaves Matt as the 9-day champion. This morning he is a 10-day champion, ranking 8th in overall money won, nearing $400,000. Asked yesterday on the show by the financial journalist Dave Faber what plans he might have for his winnings, Matt, who you suspected was a down-to-earth-guy anyway—despite his head full of correct answers—answered he's likely to buy something having to do with real estate.

I don't always see things in terms of thoroughbred racing, but there are similarities to real life competitions.

Anyone of a certain age who has been following thoroughbred racing for any number of years is familiar with  the horse named Arazi. Arazi was owned by Allen Paulson, the now deceased Chairman and CEO of Gulfstream  Aerospace. Think private business jets. Arazi won the 1991 Breeders' Cup Juvenile Championship in such stirring fashion, going from last to first on the far turn to pass horses as if they were standing still, that racetrack commentators and journalists couldn't help themselves by heaping praise on a horse they all believed would be the next Secretariat. Or Jesus.

Winning the final and top 2-year-old race of the year, and doing it so breathlessly, stamped Arazi as the very early favorite for the Kentucky Derby, despite the fact it was 7 months off. Horses can break your heart, and Arazi did, never living up to the insane hype he earned in that Breeders' Cup race.

The owner, Allen Paulson, who was also his own pilot, would name horses after aviation checkpoints, and the name Arazi was one for the Yuma airport in Arizona.

Last night, Matt Amodio was meeting his match, even falling behind. The woman in the center was matching his correct answers. Her pot of money was close to his. They were dueling down the backside. Is this the end of Matt?

Ding, Ding, Ding. Matt picks a tile that's the Daily Double. It's almost cute that the game uses what was once the only exotic bet at a racetrack: pick the winners of the first two races and share in the Daily Double pool. It's more than likely that your payout will be greater than if you were to parlay, or take the winning payout from your first winner, and plow it into the second winner, and collect the total. The "Double" was the first multi-leg bet, hugely popular, and now nearly completely forgotten with all the other combinations of wagers. It's still there, but it's old news.

I think the category had something to do with Australia, our great ally on the other side of the world, down under. Matt's sitting at $13,000 and change, and the woman in the center is breathing down his throat latch. He can't seem to shake her.

He squints at the board, almost seems to chuckle, and just goes for it. He bets it all, with no gestures, no funny line, just tells the host Dave the amount. This is Nick the Greek betting on rain drops.

As usual, the question/answer, if it were to be diagrammed out by a near-extinct grammarian, seems to have several clauses, but has something to do with the type of government Australia has. Do you know?

I was holding my breath. In fact, I didn't hear the question/answer well, but Matt did. He somewhat haltingly said "Commonwealth." He's now sitting pretty, having pulled an Arazi move, doubled his money count, and is likely to finish in that catbird position of mathematically being unable to be caught with the Final Jeopardy question. He was Eamonn Coghlan on the final lap. Goodbye guys.

The remainder of the show was just the mop up. Matt, and Christina Leone got the Final Jeopardy question, but her $9,600 total and $9,600 bet couldn't catch Matt, despite getting the answer right. Matt added $15,000 to his total, and emerged, as expected, as the 10-day-champion with $362,400.

Anyone who knows anything about the show knows that several episodes are taped on the same day, as many as six I believe. If you're lucky enough to make it as a contestant I believe the producers tell you to bring a change of clothes in case you emerge as that episode's champion. A recent short-term champion was a Marine who stayed in his uniform. I think he made it through three days.

Last night Matt looked even more like Clive Owen in his monochrome brown suit and shirt. If he keeps at it, not only will he add to his winnings, he might even get some free clothes shipped over to the set.  It might already be happening. I'd bet his outfit didn't come from his closet. When you're an emerging celebrity, things happen.

Matt has now gone through three guest hosts. Reading the posting on the Internet, I'm reading Joe Buck does next week! Joe Buck, a real sportscaster. How about getting Kenny Albert next? Or Larry Colmus, who's not doing NYRA race calls these days?

Arazi the horse disappointed. What will Arazi the human do next?

http://www.onofframp.blogspot.com

Don't Look Now

Clive Owen

Don't look now, but there's a new multi-round Jeopardy champion knocking over his opponents like bowling pins, Matt Amodio, a Ph.D. student from New Haven, Connecticut.

I missed what he might be a Ph.D. student in, and I'll assume New Haven, Ct. is shorthand for Yale, but the Clive Own lookalike is taking pages from the James Holzhauer playbook. He whacks the $1,000, $1,600, $2,000 amounts first as he sweeps through the board, building a sizable lead with softly spoken answers, holding the buzzer like he's got a small bird in his hand, and any extra pressure will snap its neck.

He's even a bit near-sighted like James, so the similarities go even further. If he were a thoroughbred, he'd be a sprinter who's got a three length lead as soon as the gates open and the other entrants are just finding their feet.

Going into the show on Monday last night, Matt demolished the other two contestants so much they were hardly ever seen on camera. The No. 3 contestant, the woman who is a private investigator from Queens, New York, only managed to take $400 into the final Jeopardy round. Matt had $32,400, and the middle contestant $7,400. Matt would have had to throw the game to not advance into a 9-Day Champion. And that wasn't going to happen.

Matt doesn't quite have the gambler, swashbuckler mentality like Holzhauer; he doesn't join hands and make an "all-in" motion for a Daily Double bet, but he is aggressive.

And he misses a little more often than Jeopardy James, but so far his opponents haven't been able to mount any kind of challenge. He gets out there and stays there. Watch a replay of the 6½ furlong Amsterdam Stakes race at Saratoga on Sunday, where Jackie's Warrior ran them off heir feet, winning by seven lengths after a :434/5 half, and you'll have an idea of what Matt looks like to a horseplayer.

For last night's Final Jeopardy question no one got it, but Matt's lead was insurmountable. He's holding all the trump cards and can take every trick. 

The Final question was under a category of Historic Businessman, and the clue went:

Born in the village of Waldorf Germany, in 1713, he arrived in the United States in 1784. 

My answer would have been who was Steinway? Nope. No one got it, but of course Matt didn't go for broke, but he did lose $15,000. The two-week temporary host starting this week is Dave Faber, who was introduced as a financial journalist. Dave is on CNBC, co-hosting Squawk on the Street, and himself somewhat resembling a movie actor, square jawed Rod Taylor.

The answer was, John Jacob Astor, the family that made a fortune first in selling beaver hats. If anyone is aware of this, the Astor Place subway stop on the No.6 train in NYC has mosaics depicting beavers on its walls. The mosaics were meant to be visual cues to immigrants who might not yet know how to read English. Grand Central, 42nd Street has mosaic locomotives on the walls, informing that the stop is another type of train station.

As the dust settled, and Matt turned into a 9-day champion, Faber pointed out the imbedded clue, Waldorf in the question.

On 34th Street, where the Empire State building is now, there once stood two hotels next to each other: The Waldorf and the Astoria. When they merged and moved uptown to Park Avenue the hotel became known as The Waldorf Astoria hotel. There once was a hyphen between the names, but it has been dropped.

No problem. Matt ends the show as a 9-day champion, with a bankroll of $310,400, certainly enough to pay off any student loans he might have or be racking up there in New Haven, Connecticut. We know college is expensive these days.

Will Matt prevail and go even further on, perhaps sailing past Dave Faber's tenure as host and start in with another host?

We know from the run Holzhauer had and the nature of the multi-day schedule of the taping of the show, that when King James was dethroned, the librarian contestant hadn't even viewed Jim's run—his episodes hadn't yet aired. Jeopardy is almost in the Twilight Zone.

Today's Final Jeopardy question looks like a slam dunk for surely Matt, and perhaps the others. I never knew there are websites devoted to summarizing the show and making projections for staying as champion. Matt is given a near 88% chance of making himself a 10-day champion.

But will he?

http://www.onofframp.blogspot.com