LITTLE ROCK — Thinly disguised as on-the-job research, watching two solid hours of the NBC Sports Network was a first.
Officially, taking in two divisions of the Arkansas Derby, the Oaklawn Handicap and the traditional “Trail’s End” was preparation for writing about sports without fans on site and had nothing to do with $12 investments in each of the last four races on the final day of Oaklawn Park’s racing season.
Truth be known, there is little chance the Razorbacks or any other college team will play football without some fans in the stands and only long-distance participation in Oaklawn happenings was available Saturday, sadly ending a 50-something-year streak of spending at least one day at the racetrack.
Both cases involve the covid-19 pandemic.
The first point is based on a conference call involving Vice President Mike Pence; the second is rooted in pre-teen years — halting a two-family picnic or a game of catch and hurrying to the fence in Oaklawn’s far turn to watch a few seconds of a race and picking horses from the morning newspaper for a nickel per race vs. mom.
Last month, Big 12 Commissioner Bob Bowlsby said the commissioners of the 10 major football conferences and the Notre Dame athletics director told Pence that until students are attending school, “we weren’t going to be having any sports.”
As much as the performance of Sam Pittman’s first Arkansas team is anticipated and that being cynical about the phrase “student-athletes” is easy at times, it is somehow reassuring that the college game is shut down until classrooms are open.
Regarding personal plans, even in late February, there was talk of making the 50-mile drive to Hot Springs on a Sunday, going to the races, and staying overnight to avoid driving at home at night.
A couple of weeks later, Oaklawn acted appropriately and prohibited spectators at the track. Even if the track had been open, those of us of a certain age and acutely aware of the virus were not about to mingle.
Other than cranking out 700 words or so on the competition and catching up with cohorts, the pressbox atmosphere in Fayetteville and Hot Springs is as different as the competition and the participants — 200 minutes vs. 108 seconds with some players that weigh three times as much as the athletes on the back of 1,000-pound thoroughbreds.
For sure, the pre-kickoff message in Razorback Stadium will never be heard prior to the first race in Hot Springs.
“A reminder that this is a working press box and the Football Writers of America prohibits any cheering for either team,” says the in-house public address man. “Also please keep any comments, remarks and conversation to a minimum out of respect to others in the press box. Those that do not comply with this request will be escorted from the press box.”
Not everybody in the Oaklawn media takes advantage of the pari-mutuel clerk or the self-help machine in the press box, but those of us who do are apt to react to a photo finish with a derogatory critique of a jockey or compliment an investment partner who contributed the nice-priced place horse in a winning exacta ticket they shared.
A late friend/writer/horseplayer only wagered occasionally but when he did, he would leave his media table and stake out a spot with the best view of the finish line. His pet lines painted a picture of the on-track action.
“Last jump, last jump,” meant his fast-finishing pick was making up ground on the leader near the finish line.
“Hurry up finish line,” he implored when the steed he had backed was in front but tiring rapidly.
Playing an exacta box online and watching from the den is not the same as purchasing a ticket in the press box and moving to an open window to take in the action and the ambience, but going against trainer Bob Baffert’s heavy favorites in both divisions of the Derby was a loser either way.
That said, talking to the TV is no substitute for the between-race kibitzing with Robert, Bob, David, Jason, Dennis, Pete, Jeff, and others.
Hopefully, staying home in 2020 was a one-time thing.