A Different Take on Thanksgiving This Year

In many ways, 2011 has really been awful yet in others it has been truly remarkable.  On this day I usually write about what I’ve been thankful but instead of the usual (family, friends, trainer, jockey, horse, etc.), I’m going to go with what I’d like to be thankful for NEXT Thanksgiving. 

• A racino is open at Canterbury Park AND the ramifications to our Native American friends are next to nothing.
• Tabby Lane stays healthy and gets on a roll at Tampa and Canterbury much the same as this year – but with a bit more purse money thrown in!
• The Thoroughbred Owners and Breeders’ Association looks after the little guy a bit more.  As an example, see the next bullet.
• States ease up a bit on the “registered security” requirement for small partnerships (in most states if you’re in a partnership and not registered as a security you’re violating the law – I know, right, but its true).  The annual financial burden to meet this requirement when running a $10,000 claimer for a group of 9 people is onerous and prohibitive.  (As an aside, if anyone knows how to better handle this, I’m all ears).
• Racing and its partners learn to better market themselves.  ESPN had part of the Breeders’ Cup telecast and there was not a lick of coverage on ESPN Radio leading up to the event.  Nothing.  A bump in ratings means more money for everyone – a little promotion or interview wouldn’t kill anyone.
• The Breeders’ Cup develops a rotation between three or four tracks.
• Maryland racing again becomes the jewel of the Mid-Atlantic.
• Suffolk Downs picks up one of the slot licenses in Massachusetts.

And a few on a more personal level:

• I’ve made a difference as a board member of the Minnesota Thoroughbred Association to which I was elected last week.
• We have a few more horses in training and more folks involved in racing.
• I have an agent that gets my work published.
• I celebrate another summer as the Daily Racing Form and Midwest Thoroughbred Magazine writer covering Canterbury Park.
• I’m either working full time on something I love (hard to imagine I haven’t been snatched up yet, huh?) or not having to in order to make a living!

While the holiday has become associated with Pilgrims and, to some, the beginning of the persecution of the Native peoples of North America, please remember that in a time of deep national division President Lincoln established the national holiday we celebrate today.  It’s a time of healing, peace, unity and love.  My best wishes to you all for this and much, much more.

Paul Mooney: October 27, 1965 - December 5, 2009

The note came via a fellow fantasy basketball league member: "Should we still play? Paul died early this morning." It was out of the blue-ish. My friend, Paul Mooney, had cystic fibrosis and had already survived a double lung transplant performed over a year ago. Recovery looked good at first, but over time he began to slide. The last month was hard for him and he kept in contact only through e-mail or instant messaging chat. His last "Facebook" post was, "Paul Mooney closed on his home. Married. Bought a Lexus. Life could not be better." It's the life he deserved, but not the life he got.


"Stats", as he was known in Colby College community, and I met in the fall of 1983. We lived on the same floor as freshmen in Mariner Hall. He was my first friend there and became my closest. His nickname was derived from the vast warehouse of sports information that he kept in his head. When asked about it, however, we made up a couple of different stories, mostly for the benefit of girls...of course. The first was that when his younger brothers (affectionately referred to as The Gremlins) were learning to speak they could not enunciate "Paul" and it came out as "Stats" so it stuck. Seriously, you would NOT believe how many freshmen fell for that! The other was that he was born in Mexico and his given name was Estasticos Munez and when he crossed the Rio Grande he Anglicized it to Stats Mooney so he'd fit in. Hilarious...


Stats and I burned up the racetracks when we were in college. We fueled our love for the game at the harness tracks in Lewiston and Scarborough. One of the best weekends we ever had - sober - was a weekend trip where we started Thursday night at Lewiston, Friday night at Seabrook greyhound, Saturday afternoon at Suffolk Downs, Saturday evening at Wonderland greyhound and the Sunday opening day at Scarborough on the way back to school. Our home base was his parents house in Manchester-by-the Sea, Massachusetts right on the water. Paul loved it there and it is an absolutely gorgeous spot. All in all, for two guys into horse racing, it was a dream weekend - at least when you live in northern New England.

We went our separate ways after college, like everyone does, but we kept in contact all the time. He was an usher in my first wedding and when I up and moved to Guam, he accompanied me half way across the country to drop my car off in Los Angeles. I picked him up in Chicago and he flew back from Las Vegas. Along the way we stayed in Santa Fe and spent a completely sleepless night in Vegas before he left. In Santa Fe we had a hard time finding a room because there was some art festival going on. We finally found The Thunderbird Inn that had a few rooms available. In classic Santa Fe tolerance the innkeeper asked us if we wanted one bed or two. We glanced at each other and without missing a beat, Stats asked him sincerely and very matter of factly if we looked like one-bedders. We opted for two beds and had a helluva laugh over it. One-bedders became a lifelong part of our vocabulary.

When I moved back to the States, we still stayed in touch and then, mysteriously, we completely lost touch. I knew he was in Chicago somewhere and he knew I was in LV somewhere, but we never connected. The last call I had made to him was letting him know that my family was heading back East for a month and that he should come on out and stay a week or so with me. He was teaching at a community college around Chicago and he had the summer off. It'll be a blast, I reasoned. He didn't call back and the next time I tried the number was out of service.

Fast forward about 2 years ago and I get an e-mail from him. He had tracked me down using the Internet. I was on a business trip in St. Louis and called him immediately. We spent the rest of the evening catching up. Literally the entire evening. I completely drained a cell battery and had to plug in the phone to keep on yakking. It was that call that I learned he had cystic fibrosis. He never mentioned it to anyone in school and he just lived his life. A lot of the goofy chances he took in college made a helluva lot more sense now - he knew he was living with a death sentence, but the rest of us didn't. I was actually incredulous when he told me. We learned early on that we were born about 12 hours apart straddling October 26th & 27th and I knew the life expectancy for cystics was not into your forties. In fact, a dear friend, Susan Brigham, was a senior when we were juniors and she passed from the disease about 3 years out of school. We kept in touch again from that moment forward. Until the message today.

As a parent now, I can't imagine what his parents are feeling today. I heard that his mother was with him when he passed - I cannot imagine anything more painful for her. He fought harder than anyone could have expected and lived longer than odds dictated (he LOVED that). I heard that he brought comfort and peace into the lives of many cystics and was a source of inspiration for all who came in contact with him and that does not surprise me. He died peacefully at home in a favorite chair. He lived to see the Red Sox win not just one, but two, world championships (Game 6 of the 1986 Series was our collective 21st birthday - they OWED us!) and he loved that as well.

My life is a better one because Paul Mooney was in it. While it doesn't make it any less painful for those of us left behind, I know he's breathing easier now and there is no more pain or disappointment or setbacks. Only peace and love. Rest in peace, my friend.

Suffolk Downs Cancels MassCap

It was reported in the Blood Horse today that Suffolk Downs has cancelled the Massachusetts Handicap.

“It's a difficult decision because it means so much to the loyal racing fans of New England and to everyone at the track, but our partnership does not think we can responsibly incur the expense of the MassCap when we are fighting to save jobs and maintain current purse levels for the horsemen who are here every day," said Richard Fields, Suffolk Downs’ principal shareholder.

It's hard to argue with that. We here in Minnesota are fortunate that we only had to reduce our dates by a few weeks. Most of the stakes were saved including the $100,000 Lady Canterbury Stakes and purse levels have remained consistent from last year and so far through the meet. Prestige is nice, but you need to take care of your bread and butter and Suffolk is trying to take care of their own.

The MassCap has had a glorious and tortured history. In particular, the last decade has not been particularly kind to the MassCap with cancellations in 2003, '05 and '06 in addition to shut downs while the track was closed and then the first few years of new ownership from 1990 to 1994. Winners of the MassCap read like a who's who of racing legends: Seabiscuit, Whirlaway, Stymie, Riva Ridge, Waquoit ( a personal favorite of mine), Macho Uno, Brass Hat and last year Commentator. Two time winners include Cigar, Skip Away, Smart, First Fiddle and Air Pilot.

Just last year the race was a "Win and You're In" race for the Breeder's Cup and this year it would have achieved Graded status (Gr. III) for the first time since 2004 when it was Grade II. I may have come of age with Maryland racing, but I grew up with Suffolk. Fields and his team are trying really hard to make it work back home. I wish them all the best and all the luck in the world.