An Interesting Look at "Winning"

By Bob Carson

"Second place is first loser."
"The cheerful loser is the winner"
"If at first you don't succeed, find out if there's a prize for the loser"

Winning is not always good.

Winning free concert tickets from a radio contest seems great, until you read the ticket and discover the performer is Yoko Ono.

Winning the heart and hand of a beautiful woman is no treat if Cruella Deville emerges at the end of the honeymoon then stays through ugly divorce proceedings.

Submitting the winning application for a job loses some luster when the position is accompanied by stress, long hours and having a heart attack as you claw to the next corporate level.

We are obsessed with winning. We want to grab the prize at work, at play, and in relationships. Losing is for losers. Winning is for winners. Allow me to disagree. Lessons are learned and character is forged in losing. Personal experience has shown that many times it is better to lose than to win.

This premise holds true in horse racing.

Win number one. At my first horseman's banquet, I won a raffle. The prize was one free breeding to a horse named Royal Stiff. The introductory stud fee of $250 would be waived because I had won! Royal Stiff was a son of the legendary sire Fat Chance and the maternal line of Yuk Yuk. I was just thrilled at winning the $250 door prize. The trivial fact that I did not have a mare, a trainer, a truck, a clue or a bankroll was obscured in the delirium of winning. Royal Stiff lived up to his name. It cost me many thousands of dollars to prove it.

Win number two. As a hopeless handicapper of horse racing, I tilted the world slightly when one evening I won an extremely large trifecta. The payoff was $2,432.20. How could there be a downside to this? Listen and learn.

The celebratory party was long and loud. I never knew I had so many friends or that a bar tab could escalate so rapidly. Word of my fiscal good fortune spread rapidly to a vast network of creditors. I quickly repaid bills that I did not even remember accruing. The $2,432.20 disappeared faster than snowflakes in Somalia.
I woke the morning after the celebratory party without the money but with a piercing headache, a ringing phone from additional creditors, and a semi-attractive exotic dancer named Brandi who loitered for several annoying months until she finally realized the trifecta money was indeed gone. As an addendum to this saga, the government insisted that I pay taxes on the winning ticket. A humor impaired tax official failed to grasp the concept that the money was long gone and stubbornly demanded restitution. The matter is pending.

Win number three. Even winning a horse race as an owner may be problematical. It is not always good. I once owned a horse named Ironic Clomper. After 16 starts, the strapping gelding amassed a career record of 0 - 0 - 1. Closer examination showed the Clomper did have a fourth and two fifths, which brought his career earnings to $432.40, approximately $20,000 short of his "break even" point.
One day, to the astonishment of many, Ironic Clomper, staggered across the finish line first in a maiden race with a $2500.00 purse. I was quickly revived and then taken to the winner's circle for a photograph. I was finally a winner. Ironic Clomper was a winner. Out of the maiden classification -onward and upward to oblivion in the higher classifications.

Alas, the climb was too steep. Clomper spent the next 26 starts posting a fourth and a fifth. Winning that maiden race was bad. Winning the race deluded me into believing the horse was a functional racehorse. This delusion resulted in another full year of training, veterinarian and psychologist bills.

Win number four. Once, I dropped a claim into the box for a horse named Sardonic Strider. Four other potential owners had the same idea. In a multiple claim, the names are selected at random. I won! Sardonic Strider was mine. I will not bore you with the mathematics. Let me summarize by saying Ironic Clomper did much better than Sardonic Strider.

Ironically and sardonically, The Strider and The Clomper eventually were the true winners. Theses horses won freedom from the rigors of racing to a peaceful meadow where the grass is green and children feed carrots through a bucolic wooden pasture fence. As a winner, I was not so lucky.

Bob Carson writes regular columns on horseracing and publishes a newsletter on Minor League Baseball. His work has appeared in dozens of national publications. He visits racetracks and baseball parks across America pretending to work and desperately attempting to cover his health insurance premium .