by Bill Stone
As you know Damon Runyon wrote short stories for Collier’s Magazine. He grew up in Colorado mining towns where he slept in doorways and tended to the red light districts. He came to New York early in the Century and established himself as a sports writer-the progenitor one suspects of Mike Lupica. Then he created a world that never existed and filled it with characters that spoke a language that only he could hear. The world was Broadway. The players were romantic gamblers and gangsters. Their names were Dave the Dude, the Brain, Nathan Detroit ….. . The real life figures of Oney Madden, Arnold Rothstein and Nick the Greek pale in comparison to their fictional counterparts. One of his most endearing characters was the Lemon Drop Kid. No doubt a lot of old proposition players came away well heeled after the Belmont and at least for a day put to gainsay the truth that All Horse Players Die Broke. On the political front Runyon had no time for the red baiting Walter Winchell and his pal Herbert Hoover and for that alone he deserves a little space in any column. By the way Wally was played by Burt Lancaster-an unabashed liberal- in The Sweet Smell of Success. Politics aside-to the left if you please-the lives Runyon celebrates are those of people who live large albeit with the grudging percipience that things aren’t going to work out as planned. Runyon concedes that life is at best six to five against and for most a lot worse; nevertheless he refuses his characters the maudlin natures such odds appear to mandate. For those who prefer their bromides without semi-colons his lesson is that it doesn’t cost anymore to live large. Examples you ask.
A return to Cincinnati will begin the seminar.
As you recall the Pucks were pretty much escorted to the State Line after failing the Sobriety Race. After attending caffeine education classes the Pucks were permitted to return on a weekend furlough. The Mariemont course was most excellent. It was a familiar Marsupial story in the Masters race. In the Cat III race Whitlock was determined to punish the IIIs who ratted him out for turning too fast at Blue Ash. This time he simply made tempo at the front of the race until all the Dayton Pro IIIs quit and the only one to stay with him was some young guy who almost won the sprint. Now, Joe could easily have sat in and attacked or simply won the sprint. He chose to take a chance. Then in the II race Joe was in the winning break until he blew up.
The next week was a grateful return to ABR Racing. In tribute to the upcoming Indy 500 Dan decided to put on a bike race without corners. The Masters Race was early in the morning and none of the Chronicle reporters are used to getting up before noon so the only thing known about the race is that someone won and it was most likely one of the Rodents. Arrived in time to watch the IV’s fall down on the easiest course in the history of bike racing. Fortunately, the entire Indy 500 Medical Team was on site and it took that many people to cart all the bodies off to the hospital. Dan put on a 45 plus race and the Child Protector’s Women’s Team beat all the men except for some doctor with Roche on his bike. Assume he was riding for Roche Laboratories. Anyway, it was a really pitiful race and everyone in it except the women should be ashamed of themselves for their efforts. The II Race was really fun and really fast and someone won.
If Saturday was a tribute to the IRL then Sunday was a NASCAR day. About four hundred meters of the course in Columbus was on a county road. A long time ago Darling Wife observed that some of the angriest people she had ever seen were people in Krogers on Sunday after Church. Have read Twain’s account of the torture he endured as a youth when forced to attend Church. So, despite having no first hand experienced tend to understand why people would be angry or at least full of anxiety after a morning spent listening to pedants. It seems that all these angry men and women were in their cars and on the racecourse this Sunday morning. So, as you turned onto the county road you had to avoid hitting the cars whose drivers would not be put upon to wait a minute longer to get home. You already know that the Marsupials won the Masters race. In the II Race Puck Whitlock attacked after the neutral lap and he and Rodent Tolson simply dropped everyone else. When they lapped the field it got even worse. It was at this point that yours truly ran into a car that crossed the centerline to ask that the racers to get off the road. He also generously offered to share his McDonalds and Pabst that he left on the road in case anyone needed a feed.
Tolson won with Puck Whitlock second.
Sometime during the month Dennis went to NCAA Nationals and was 14th in the Criterium that was won by Derek Witte.
The Pucks have continued to dominate Southeastway. Dennis won one week. Then Whitlock took off and lapped the field the next week together with Rizzo. The next week Grant asked if he could be an honorary Puck and for that night only we let him wear a jersey. Of course, the honor gave him great strength and he attacked the break and rode the last several laps solo to victory. Unfortunately, last week none of the good Pucks showed up and thus the best we could do was Molewyk’s third behind Jay Bumbles for the Protectors and Bumblebee Bedwell. Except for Tim Davis and Brooks it appears that the Handguys have pretty much packed it up and returned to spending Tuesdays posing in Broadripple. Its interesting that people can drive from Dayton and Champaign and Columbus, but it’s too far to drive from Indianapolis to the South Side.
The Hall Road Race was last Saturday. There was a Masters Race but again it was early in the morning and well you know. It is assumed that one of the Rodents won and Molewyk says he was fifth and he usually tells the truth. Branner and Skinner say they missed the break like this was something new. The II III race was one of the ones that makes you feel good about yourself. You get to ride fast while all the good guys attack and listen to the other guys at the back talk about how good they feel and how they are going to ride at the front as soon as they finish eating all their power gel and check their sugar levels and unload their empty bottles and roll down their sleeves and all this chatter gets to you after a couple of hours and you wish they would get everything right and just go away. You also get to see them riding with their hands off the bars and throw bottles over their heads while they drop full ones in the middle of the pack. You just know these guys will never get any better and will never know why. So, you ask why was your fat butt at the rear. Well, you can’t write a column unless you experience the race and well with fifteen miles to go actually did bridge to a break, which of course was going too slow as obviously if this fat butt got there it, couldn’t have been going very fast. Besides as soon as the Chronicles arrived everyone stopped riding in protest to some past sleight not to mention that everyone had a teammate in the break and thus couldn’t work except that this was the break. At this point the heat was no doubt affecting the ability to figure out what was happening. Regardless, a break finally stuck and Floridian Puck Fitz was in it and of course this meant that the rest of the Pucks could immediately stop racing and go to the back to tell everyone how the team had a "guy up the road" and thus couldn’t do anything but try to fall down in the road. Had to leave right after the race but have been advised that a Rodent won with a Protector second and Fitz third. However, Fitz assures that he did all the work in the break and would have won if only the others had not gone faster at the end. Unfortunately, did not have a lot of time to bask in Fitz’s reflected glory because Grant already had a movie going on his car computer and we were off to Peoria.
Got up early Sunday as Grant insisted that 9:00 was not too early for a 40+ Race. Could not even get through breakfast without having to listen to Head Smack Doering tell how he didn’t really care about winning anymore and was just racing to have fun and be a positive influence. Even his ever patient wife laughed at him and told him to shut up. So, the race starts and pretty soon Gary is gone and the field slows down to about twelve. Had the women been on the course the entire field would have been pulled for impeding traffic. Well, there are some attacks and it gets pretty hard and a few guys get dropped and then a couple guys get away and the race is over. Little Smack is all over himself because he helped Head Smack win by sitting at the back of the field and he goes off to give lend his tactical genius to his Phone Company Team. After watching the woman do track stands for a half-hour and then split up a few thousand dollars it is time for the AARP race. Find out that for twenty-dollar entry fee there are three medals up for grab, but there are two ball cap primes. While pondering the conundrum of how grown men who actually put money into the sport should permit themselves to be treated so shabbily it starts to rain. Anyway, get beat up by fellow geriatrics and finish out of the medals. Called Darling Wife and explained disappointment and she promised to give up one of her old 4H gardening medals albeit only a red one. To make it worse hero Kirk Albers comes up and advises that he saw the old guys race and that yours truly was truly awful and should consider quitting. Explain that it was the rain and no money and he laughs because he knows. All this humiliation and no team mate in the race in whose reflected glory there would be solace. Well, enough sorrow.
The pro race was really fun. To watch. Whitlock got nothing and Fitz was in the money. Ventura won but it appears it was taken away by USCF official. Here’s the story. The finish area was marked by cones that narrowed as the finish approached because of the announcer’s stand. Ventura is on the right. A guy is catching him on the left; however, the cones don’t permit him to pass. So, he protests that Ventura moves over because he didn’t move to the right to let him pass which is to say that Ventura somehow moved left by going straight which is probably impossible except in the sense that time bends as you approach infinity.
The results weren’t posted before Grant had the car movie running so can’t give the complete story until next week. Grant wouldn’t stay to watch the IIIs , however, Dennis wrote and said he was second.
This pretty much brings you up to date on racing. As always the fast guys won and the rest made excuses about why they didn’t win or didn’t try. That’s pretty much the story of every race in every city every week. It is fun to watch and more fun to discuss. However, there is another matter to write about this week.
Bob Jordan died two weeks ago. He was a friend but it would be presumptuous to claim to know much about his life. However, he was a person about whom no one had an unkind word. He never complained and he never made excuses. He told me that it was much more important to see his son play baseball than to race. He spoke with reverence about his father. There may be sense in death. If there is a sense to living it must lay in getting the most out of the experience. Bob did this. Best wishes to his family.
--Bill Stone
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