From Mary Lou to Tom; Jim Dandy to Fourstardave; Siro’s to backyard tailgating; and morning workouts to give aways; Saratoga has a cast of heroes, customs, and institutions which make it, in our opinion, the most unique sporting venue on Earth. Over the next 40 Days, we will profile 40 of these legends and traditions, adding our own memories and experiences from 30 plus years of summering at the Spa. It’s our Salute to Saratoga. We hope you enjoy following along.
With over 150 years of racing under its weathered belt, it’s no surprise that Saratoga Race Course is cloaked with established traditions. But at Saratoga, traditions are contagious and each year new traditions form which, by virtue of their occurrence at the Spa, inherit a lore and legacy unearned by their infancy. Potential new traditions lurk are around every corner at Saratoga, even in the most unexpected places.
And so was the case five years ago. On the Sunday morning after Travers, I admit I couldn’t wait to get out of Saratoga and head back to the friendly confines of my apartment in Philadelphia. It marked day five of my friend’s bachelor party, and the thought of returning to the races for a full day, to only then turn around and drive five hours back to Philadelphia was disheartening. My tank was on empty. I was waiving the white flag. But my navigator and future Thorobro was adamant that we stayed for day’s races—“Rachel is running. We have to stay.” So I dusted off the cobwebs, drank about 22 hours-worth of 5 hour energy and boarded the hearse pointed towards Union Avenue. With the third Thorobro at the helm, we entered the track from the Nelson Avenue entrance, but then made an unexpected B line to the barn area. “Where the hell are we going?” I asked. “Got a little surprise” was the response. We got out of the car and walked towards the barn area. I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the start of my favorite new era Saratoga tradition.
Continue reading 40 Days: A Salute to Saratoga–Guillot’s Gumbo →
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