I Demand An Immediate FCC Investigation

Wild times out there at Santa Anita (What's that you say, Larry King? It's pronounced "Santer Anita?" Get the hell out of my blog, Larry) yesterday. Our good TeenForm friend Miss ThirtyFour D made a triumphant return under the bra-snapping guidance of Gary "Get Your Bets Down Now Before You Have To Back Me In Freakin' Euros" Stevens. They finished second (oh, quite the double-breasted filly is she) and the race footnotes on Equibase, of course, report her as finishing "deep into the stretch." Thank youuuuuuuuuu! Equibase and I will be here all week!

And yet that is not, I am thrilled to report, the best part. Eighth race, Strub Stakes. Gary up on Preachinatthebar (not asking, not tellin'.) Corey Nakatani on board True Contender. Seventy-five thousand dollars up for grabs. Everybody waiting. Everybody tense. The bell rings. The mighty horses spring free.

Every single one of them but True Contender. He sits in the gate watching the field getting smaller and smaller and.... Corey gives up and gets off. I do believe I would love him forever had he only returned to the trainer and shrugged, "My horse malfunctioned." Because if wardrobe can malfunction, a horse can too.

What in the world can you do in this situation, if you're a jockey? You weigh something like a hundred and four pounds. National Velvet there is half a ton. The two of you are sitting inside what basically amounts to a filing cabinet. Do you just reboot damn thing? Where is the control-alt-delete on a thoroughbred? (Miss ThirtyFourD: "I believe it's called a 'whip,' dear.")