In the world of Harness racing, Mack Lobell is considered by many to be the greatest trotter to ever live. Mack’s statistics are impressive to say the least: Mack Lobell had a six-year international racing career in which he won 71 of 94 starts, and retired as the fastest and richest American-bred stallion of all-time. He is still the fastest male trotter in a race and holds numerous current world records.
At two, he was voted 2-year-old Trotting Colt of the Year after setting world records on mile and half-mile tracks and winning the Breeders Crown. At three, Mack Lobell won 13 of 16 starts, including the Hambletonian, Breeders Crown and Yonkers Trot, set world records on all size tracks and was voted Horse of the Year. At four, Mack Lobell won 17 of 19 starts, including the Breeders Crown, International Trot, and Sweden's Elitlopp. He was again voted Horse of the Year. He then began a racing and breeding career in Europe in which he won 32 of his 38 European starts, setting numerous records. At age six, he became a two-time winner of the Elitlopp. After standing at stud for several seasons in Europe during his racing career, Mack Lobell is now a stallion in the United States. His early European sire results are promising and he already has 8 in 2:00 and five $100,000 winners.
And on Saturday, August 12th 1989, I won a shitload of money betting against him.
The evening started out as many evenings did in 1989: Me and my buddies Doc and Tony Ng were chowing down in Chinatown looking for some trouble to get into. I loved going to Chinatown with Tony. He claimed not to be able to speak a lick of Chinese, but when the waiter would arrive, Tony would spew forth with about 30 seconds of perfect Cantonese and finish off with “and two cokes”. Minutes later plate after plate of amazing food would arrive and we’d stuff ourselves numb. Doc, who had never been to a race track had been lobbying for a night at Yonkers, so after dinner we headed north to fulfill Doc’s wish.
We arrived at the track to find out that the evening’s program featured a race called the International Trot: a gathering of the best trotters from around the world. And there on the program was the greatest trotter of his day, Mack Lobell, scheduled to run the race. This was analogous to showing up at the ball park to find out that Lou Gehrig was starting, playing first base for your minor league franchise.
Mack was going off at some insane odds, something like 1 – 3, which meant you’d have to wager $3.00 to win $1.00. He was clearly the favorite. So as I combed the program to try to figure out who would come in second, I spotted a local horse that had just been added to the trot. Her name was Kit Lobell, and what caught me were two things. One, she was a she, and I had this silly notion that all the boys would be chasing after her. After all, I was 27, and had spent a lot of time chasing both phillies and mares myself. Second, she was a fast horse who was familiar with the track. All of the other horses had traveled from around the world and were phenomenal horses in their own right, but Kit had home field advantage. She was going off at something like 19 – 1, so I convinced Doc to wager $20.00 across the board on Kit and $20.00 across the board on Mack. That meant we each had $120.00 sunk into this race, and in 1989 that was a lot of money for Ol’ Samichlaus.
Not that it mattered: it wasn’t my money I was gambling with. See, I had a good day at the store I partnered in, and was gambling with the day’s receipts.
Maybe I shouldn’t write that part…
The race went off, and we watched as Kit and Mack headed around the track. Mack lead early on with Kit sitting on his tail, seemingly drafting the great horse, and this is how it went until they turned into the backstretch. Suddenly, Kit Lobell put on a burst and simply blew past Mack Lobell who never knew what hit him. Kit put some distance between the two and won easily. The crowd was stunned. As Doc and I leaped up and down screaming like those two guys in “Brokeback Mountain”, someone shouted to us “WHO WON???” Without missing a beat, Doc shouted back “WE DID”.
I walked away with over $400.00 cleared that evening, and afterwards me, Doc, and Tony headed into Tarrytown (where I lived) to drink the night away and toast Kit Lobell, who beat the greatest trotter of all time on a hot August night in 1989.
No comments:
Post a Comment