By Janet Eastman
July 25, 2003
Del Mar
THE HORSES. The hats. The fans on their feet, fists punching the air, roaring and focused on the finish line. Little has changed at the Del Mar racetrack since the legendary Seabiscuit nosed out a win against Bing Crosby’s horse, Ligaroti, 65 years ago and vaulted this sleepy San Diego County beach town into the place to be during the summer racing season.
Unlike other cities that host horse racing, Del Mar holds this distinction: Visitors don’t want to leave. Many stay for the entire seven-week season. Some buy a place and call it home.
Opening day has had serious social cachet since the track debuted on July 3, 1937, with Crosby wearing a straw skimmer and luring Depression-era crowds with a catchy jingle: “Take a plane, take a train, take a car” to “where the turf meets the surf at Del Mar.”
On Wednesday’s record-breaking opening, 40,682 people passed through the gates. They huddled into tight knots in the ultra-clubby Turf Club and spilled over standing-room-only balconies in the grandstands. And they contributed to the $14-million wagering pot.
“Opening day is every bit as exciting as the Academy Awards,” said track President Joe Harper, grandson of pioneer film director Cecil B. DeMille. “At our hat contest, we have seen everything from ‘My Fair Lady’ flair to a guy dressed as a jockey with a life-size papier-mache horse on his head, which was a great testament to neck muscles.” Competition was fierce; the winner was awarded a trip to the Kentucky Derby.
For sharply dressed horse owners such as Betty Mabee of the Golden Eagle Farm, who has attended every opening day here since Eisenhower was in office, it was a time to hold court in the paddock as million-dollar babies were paraded around the walking ring before post time. Mabee had fallen in love with an old spotted pony named Dutch when she was growing up in Iowa, and with her late husband, John, she went on to win 18 races worth $1 million each and three Eclipse Awards, horse racing’s highest honor.
Other long-timers were clustered in grand boxes with direct views of the final stretch, ordering champagne from stair-bounding waiters. “You have to have longevity to be granted these spaces,” said Mary Bradley, who has raised a Kentucky Derby winner. “My first table more than 30 years ago was in goodness knows where, but over time and good horses, I’ve made it here. You can’t plot it. You can’t buy it. You have to earn it.”
Before there were Indian casinos, quick trips to Vegas and satellite wagering, Del Mar was the only betting show in Southern California during the summer. It depended so much on day-trippers from Los Angeles that if the train was late, the horses waited. Cheering for the “racetrack special” as it crested through a gap in the hills became one of many quaint customs.
There were few places in town for post-race partying, so Turf Club members danced on the terrace of the old clubhouse before it was replaced 10 years ago. (Now there are concerts Fridays and Saturdays in the Grandstand Plaza.) Back then, Jimmy Durante played a trick piano, then smashed it, all in good fun. Desi and Lucy wandered in from their summer home, and glamorous Greer Garson bet on the horse with the longest tail.
She wasn’t the only one with odd wagering methods. Superstition is still super-charged at the track. Some people wear amulets or don’t change their socks. Jockey Alex Solis crossed himself before he rode off and won in the seventh race on Mabee’s Grand Appointment, a 24-to-1 longshot.
For a few, opening day was a chance to remember what it was like to be at Del Mar on Day One.
Don Terwilliger was 7 when he and everyone else in his hometown – all 350 Del Mar residents – entered the Spanish Mission-style grandstand for the first time. He wore short pants, a tie and suspenders. The tradition of putting on a show of clothes continues here, fending off to some degree the California kickback gear of flip-flops and tank tops.
That day, Terwilliger was hoisted onto the railing, inhaled the smell of the horses, liniment and sweat, and found his passion. He has never missed a season. He could easily rent out his beach home for the seven weeks of races and pocket almost enough cash to buy two new Mustang coupes, but he couldn’t imagine it.
His heart was pounding during the fifth race Wednesday as he banged his table with both palms and told his horse to “Come on, come on!” Requite crept from the back to third, but that wasn’t enough to put Terwilliger in the money. “I’m a super fan,” he said, “but not a super bettor.” He tossed down his program and left his clubhouse box seat to place another bet.
Nick Giovinazzo arrived in the passenger seat of his father’s 1935 Packard on the first opening day. The two left Los Angeles that morning, taking Pacific Coast Highway south to visit a relative. His dad saw the brand new track and put on the brakes. “Dad never saw a racetrack he’d pass up,” he said.
Giovinazzo remembers feeling restless that day. He was a 9-year-old with legs ready to run, and sitting while horses flew by him didn’t mean a thing. His dad got hooked, though, and he moved his family into summer rentals in nearby Oceanside so he could play the ponies.
It wasn’t until Giovinazzo’s 16th birthday that he made the connection between his own track-and-field competitions and horse racing. The day before, he broke the records for the 100, the 220 and the broad jump, and his accomplishments were written up in the newspaper. Sharing the same page were the racing results. “I could see they kinda related to each other,” he said, “and my whole life changed.”
He became a teacher at Los Angeles Valley College and spent his summers in Del Mar. In 1976, he and his wife, Lois, bought a condo on a bluff near the track for $71,000. It’s now worth $650,000. A windfall similar to what he’s earned on the horses? “Just about,” he said with a wink and a slap of his folded Daily Racing Form against his knee.
Noble Threewitt, now 92, is a trainer who has attended the inaugurals of Bay Meadows Race Course (1934), Santa Anita Park (1934), Hollywood Park (1938), Golden Gate Fields (1941) and Del Mar, which filled in Southern California’s racing circuit.
“I used to make $2 bets, but I’m a bad loser, so I stopped betting long ago,” he said from a barn at Del Mar that he works out of every day during the season. He and his wife, Beryl, 91, left their home in Arcadia and rented a condo nearby.
Threewitt once had another roommate. He shared a tack room with “Silent Tom” Smith, Seabiscuit’s trainer, and gives a thumbs up to the new movie about the iron horse, its trainer, jockey and owner. “I joked that when I was watching the scene in which they show a match race, I thought I was watching the real rerun of the race I witnessed,” he said. “But I bet they didn’t do it just once, as they did in real life.”
The opening day throngs wore down many of the regulars. William Murray, a captivating storyteller who has spent 30 summers here and has written nine mystery novels set at different tracks, was weary after the 6 p.m. post.
Hiding out in the press room, he said he won’t miss the chaos and the beautiful people who show up only to party on the first day. He looks forward to quieter weekdays, when Del Mar attracts serious players – those he lovingly called “degenerate bettors and hard knockers,” as he threw a wry glance at his old friend Giovinazzo.
After the last of the owners had left the winner’s circle, Murray folded up his Racing Forms and headed home. Luckily, it’s just a few miles away.
Turf, surf, county fairs: All bets are on
By Janet Eastman
March 10, 2005 in print edition E-33
THE first few notes of the bugle set hearts racing. Then the horses shoot out of the starting gate and the
fans begin their ritualistic routines. To the beat of their quickened pulse, people pound their rolled-up
programs or pump arms in the air and chant, "Come on, come on." A flash later, when the first three
horses have crossed the finish line, most in the crowd have dropped their shoulders in disappointment.
They toss away now-worthless tickets and start searching for their next inspired bet.
Such are the ups and downs of horse racing, a sport
that lures professional bettors, horse lovers and time
wasters to Southern California's tracks every day.
They come to win, but also to hang out, smoke a
cigar outdoors with a view of the manicured infield
and exchange hard-earned advice with strangers.
The writer William Murray, who died Wednesday at 78,
found inspiration at the races and set 10 of his novels
at Southern California tracks, mostly at Santa Anita. "I
love it from the first roar of the crowd at the first race
of the day," he said in an interview shortly before his
death. "Before there were Indian casinos, fast ways
to Las Vegas or satellite wagering, there was horse
racing."
In addition to the thrill of betting, racing has its social aspects. Sheiks, celebrities, politicians and even diet
queen Jenny Craig hobnob in isolated VIP areas and dine on curry-flavored roasted pork loin with
drunken raisins while Regular Joes (fans are mostly male) mill around in general-admission areas clutching
$2 exactas.
And although a person has to be at least 18 to wager, families too, come to the track, toting picnic
baskets, blankets and dreams of victory.
General admission is only a few dollars, but some seating, depending on its location and sight of the final
stretch, can cost more, especially in the private luxury suites or clubs where dress codes are enforced (no
tennis shoes or tank tops).
What follows is a brief look at four other racetracks in Southern California:
Hollywood Park
This track has every right to have "Hollywood" in its name, even though it's in Inglewood. When its turf
club opened in 1938, Jack L. Warner of Warner Bros. was in charge and shareholders were Tinseltown's
most powerful: Sam Goldwyn, Darryl F. Zanuck, Walt Disney.
Most of the glitter is gone today, but there are still a number of important races (the track is owned by
Churchill Downs Inc., which puts on the Kentucky Derby). This season has the $1.3-million National Gold
Rush stakes races, the $750,000 American Oaks and the $750,000 Hollywood Gold Cup.
The Spring/Summer Meeting runs Wednesdays through Sundays, April 22 to July 17. Admission starts at
$7, parking included. 1050 S. Prairie Ave., Inglewood. (310) 419-1500; www.hollywoodpark.com
Del Mar Thoroughbred Club
The sleepy San Diego beach town of Del Mar woke up in 1937 when Bing Crosby opened this
picturesque track with a catchy song: "Take a plane, take a train, take a car" to "where the turf meets the
surf at Del Mar." A year later, Seabiscuit took the spotlight by nosing out a win against Crosby's horse,
Ligaroti.
Opening day attracts a sellout crowd of more than 40,000, the largest in the state; that number drops to
12,000 to 15,000 during the week. The lure, besides the hypnotic ocean view? "It's intimate like
Saratoga," said Murray, who had spent 38 summers in Del Mar. "If you really love the game, you want to
be close to the riders and have the smell of horses in your nostrils."
Fans huddling in the Spanish Colonial-style building that houses the grandstand can watch the action on
the track or look down from the terraces at the paddock, where the horses are saddled and soothed
before each race.
Two-legged creatures are also on display here. The showy hats and formal dress of opening day relax
into sun-loving skimpy outfits as the season unfolds.
The 2005 season runs Wednesdays through Mondays, July 20 through Sept. 7 (tickets go on sale May
2). Admission starts at $5. Parking is $5.
Those arriving by Amtrak will be shuttled to the track free of charge on red British double-decker buses.
2260 Jimmy Durante Blvd., Del Mar. (858) 755-1141; www.dmtc.com.
Fairplex Park
Many fans saw their first race accidentally at the county fair. Sometime between buying cotton candy and
watching the 4-H kids have their animals judged, they wandered into the grandstand to see one race and
stayed for the whole card.
Horse racing has been a part of the Los Angeles County Fair since the first one in 1922, and the track in
1933 was the first in Southern California to feature legal parimutuel wagering.
"The Fairplex is a welcome change from the serious racing grind," Murray said. "The track is a 'bullring,'
five-eighths of a mile like Los Alamitos. It requires horses to take two tight turns or they end up in the
parking lot. But it's fun because the purses are good and you're at the fair."
Thoroughbreds, appaloosas and quarter horses will race Sept. 9 to 25 (except Tuesdays) during the fair.
Admission to the track is free with fair admission. 1101 W. McKinley Ave., Pomona. (909) 865-4630;
www.fair plex.com.
Los Alamitos Race Course
The fans at this track like its ease: no traffic snarls, no elbowing to get a glimpse of the finish line, no
intimidating social hierarchy. The only pressure, other than picking a winner, is deciding whether to pay an
extra $7 to enter the Vessels Club, a plush dining room where blackened prime rib is the most popular
entree.
The room is busy even when there are no horses stamping around the walking ring. That's because, like
at other tracks, simulcast satellite-broadcast monitors are relaying races from around the country. The
afternoon crowd placing bets on contests at New York's Belmont Park usually clears out in time for new
bettors lining up for live racing in the evenings.
Here, it's mostly quarter horse racing, which some fans like and others don't. "Some quarter horses are
impressive, faster than any thoroughbred at that short distance," Murray said. "But there are no tactics; it
doesn't matter if the jockeys are good or not if they can't get their horse out of the gate. And it's all over in
22 seconds."
Track announcer Ed Burgart and handicapper Les Onaka host Clocker's Corner seminars Saturdays at
9:30 a.m. in the lower level of the clubhouse.
Racing is held Thursdays through Sundays year-round except for some holidays. Admission starts at $3.
General parking is free. 4961 Katella Ave., Los Alamitos. (714) 820-2800; www.losalamitos.com.