I managed to
get hold of some of the letters that figures in the world of harness racing
sent to Santa this year. We’ll see if they get what they asked for.
Ronny
Bugatti
Dear Santa,
please shut the yaps of all the people who are determined to make me a running
joke. I won the Messenger and earned $327,000 this year; only eleven in my
division earned more than that. Wake Up Peter, Doctor Butch and Rockin Amadeus
are three who banked less than I did. Make them zip it, Santa.
Plainridge
Racecourse
Dear Santa,
please bring us a slots license for Christmas. We’ll be lost without it.
Maven
Dear Santa,
Please provide me with the speed, intestinal fortitude and good health to crush
that stuck up bitch Bee A Magician, the same way I crushed Check Me Out this
year. I chased the latter around for two years until I finally caught up with
her in the BC. This year I embarrassed her in one start after another. Allow me
to snap Bee’s phony winning streak the first time we meet and continue on from
there, Santa.
Lou Pena
Dear Santa,
what is it about me that race track execs and owners don’t like? I’m charming
and personable, and I win lots of races. What’s not to like? The Pennsylvania
tracks are dark now and Yonkers is falling right in line with that little SOB,
Jeff Gural—nobody wants me, Santa. Am I supposed to race for a hundred bucks a
start at Monticello? If that’s the case, I might as well go back to California.
Please induce the powers that be at Yonkers to love me again, Santa—like they
used to.
Golden
Receiver
Dear Santa,
please bring a major dose of cold and wind with you when you depart the North
Pole. It would suit me just fine to race in 25 degree temperatures all year. On
those bitter cold nights I go right to the top and leave the rest of the field
scratching for breath. I own the fastest mile ever at M1 in January. How about a
year-round cold wave, Santa.
Daylon
Magician
Dear Santa,
I need you to pump up my fertility quotient. This is getting embarrassing; they
keep bringing me back to the racetrack because I can’t get it done in the shed. A little juice please, Santa.
Somwherovrarainbow
Dear Santa,
I’d like a full season of Brian Sears sitting behind me. Montrell makes some
odd decisions and I wind up getting blamed for the results.
Smilin Eli
Dear Santa,
a full four-year-old campaign bereft of drama would be nice.
Ron Pierce
Dear Santa,
please bring me the gift of eloquence this year. Make those words dance off my
tongue during post race interviews, to the point where the clowns asking those
dumb questions can’t get a word in edgewise.
Donato
Hanover
Dear Santa,
please bring me a SON that can trot fast and stay on the track. Enough with the
fillies; I need a son, Santa!
Premier
Kathleen Wynne
Dear Santa,
please get these insufferable harness racing people off my ass. If I get
another letter from that blusterous windbag Robert Burgess I’ll scream.
Googoo
Gaagaa
Dear Santa,
Richard Hans is a nice guy but let’s face it, he ain’t got a clue. Get me away
from this crackpot and out of Maryland, now, Santa.
Kingcole
Dear Santa,
I’m sick and tired of doing all the speed work to set the likes of Panther
Hanover and Fred And Ginger up for fast marks. Please bring me a dose of
stamina so I can finish.
Trixton
Dear Santa,
let’s face it, I’m an oversized, blue-blood trotter that set Takter and friends
back $360,000, but I haven’t come close to earning my keep. Please get my
trainer out from behind me; I don’t want to wind up like Guccio. Yanick would
do just fine, Santa.
Riveting
Rosie
Dear Santa,
please book me for a few trips to the US next year. I’m bigger than the OSS. I’m
so sick of reading over the top quotes from Team Takter about that diva, Shake
It Cerry. I’ll crush her if given half a chance.
Ron Burke
Dear Santa,
please spare me all of these posts, letters and articles from fools who are
convinced I’m employing black magic to step my horses up.
Joe Faraldo
Dear Santa,
anything you can do to make life miserable for that unbearable SOB
Jeff Gural would make my Christmas oh so jolly. Ho! Ho! Ho!
George
Brennan
Dear Santa,
please book me for a few Grand Circuit drives next year. I’m sick and tired of
being a non entity on the NA scene. Yonkers, Yonkers, Yonkers. Even Cory
Callahan has passed me on the yearly money list. And that little weasel who
wears the same colors as Callahan is starting to get on my nerves. I hope they
put his new hip in backwards. Time to expand my horizons, Santa.
Bettor’s
Delight
Dear Santa,
how about a little respect and a permanent home. I’m the top all-age money
generator among pacing sires on the planet but they bounce me around like a
rubber ball. First my overrated little brother takes my spot in New York,
exiling me to the letter writing capital of NA—Ontario. Then I get booted out
of there and moved to Pennsylvania. I just want a place I can call my own,
Santa.
Tim Tetrick
Dear Santa,
you might be expecting a plea for pain free hips, but I’d prefer a good press
agent. I’m the top driver in the sport—just won another DOY award—but all I
hear about is booting horses. Yeah, my foot might slip out of the stirrup
occasionally and brush a hock, but that happens to Yanick, Brian and Dave
Miller just as often as it does me, and nothing is said about it. Send me a
skilled press agent who can spin these clowns out of my life, Santa.
Myron Bell
Dear Santa,
please send me a speedy little gelding who can scoot around the track at
Delaware, Ohio and doesn’t need to be managed for stallion appeal. I’d win the
Jug with him and stick it to all those stuffed shirts in Ohio who think their
little country fair race is the end all and be all. And maybe you could wring
the neck of that cretin who didn’t vote The Captain tops in his division while
you’re at it, Santa.
John
Campbell
Dear Santa,
please drop a lump of coal in the stocking of everyone who made noise about me
being over the hill. I’m the only driver in the top 25 with fewer than a
thousand starts, and you have to go a long way down the list to find another.
Get these clowns off my back, Santa.
Walter Case
Dear Santa,
they welcome Pena in Pennsylvania and the likes of Eckley and Mosher in
California, but I’m still persona non grata everywhere, despite all these years
of doing penance. Please send me a hearing officer with the gumption to give me
a second chance, Santa.
Wake Up
Peter
Dear Santa,
please get me over to the Burke Barn. My conceited stablemate Captain T keeps
calling me a loser. Maybe Burke can turn things around and get me a few wins.
If I Can
Dream
Dear Santa,
a little company would be nice. Muscle Hill left New Jersey for Pennsylvania and Vintage
Master just decided to stay in Ontario. I’m getting lonely, Santa. Please send
me a buddy.
Camluck
Dear Santa,
please bring me my first retirement check. I turn 27 next week. Will these
people ever be satisfied. I beat Dorunrun Bluegrass and Jake And Elwood in the
1991 BC. Do you think those two jokers are still working in the shed. I need
those retirement papers, Santa.
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