The story continues....

So, after arriving at the Derby, we set off on our noble mission to achieve an appropriate level of intoxication for the affair - plastered. The JB was well utilized to this task. Sidebar: If you are going to try to smuggle illicit materials into such a venue, I highly recommend having someone with a serious injury to plant it on. It really works like a charm.

The day of the Derby includes 12 races, and the big show is #10. We arrived at race #4, by about race #6, we were all pretty well sloshed. The drinking certainly wasn't helping the gambling. I was making more exotic bets, sure I would hit the big payday eventually. Alas, it wasn't meant to be. I lost all my bets on the Derby itself, about $50 worth.

By this point, my mom (like I said, this was a family affair) was starting to get a little worried about little brother in the neck brace. He had apparently found the favor of one of the female bartenders, and she was making all his gin and tonics doubles at no extra charge. Which brings up another sidebar: there's nothing like a neck brace to get you some sympathy. The double gin and tonics, combined with the heat and humidity (it was like 85 degrees & 100% humidity), were beginning to take their toll on little brother. He's about 6' 5" tall, which only exaggerated the swaying motion. Luckily, he was coerced to sit down and made it out without incident.

After the big race, my older bro and I took a walk over to the Derby infield to check out the carnage. The derby infield is more like the bastard lovechild of a Nascar race and Mardi Gras than a horse race. The place is filthy, the grounds turned into one giant mud pit, with the walking wounded staggering around half clothed and fully drunk, often covered head to toe in mud. The Port-a-potties were overflowing in some places. It was just gross. Somehow, I think Queen Elizabeth skipped this tour.

We came upon a huge crowd of men circled around some figure, presumably some drunk chick about to flash. Apparently she was reluctant, because there was alot of booing and the crowd quickly dispersed. After about five minutes we decided we'd seen enough and headed back to the betting window over by our seats.

This is where the true genius of having 2 extra races after the Derby comes in. The betting windows were packed. All the winners were trying to parlay their success, while all the losers were making a last effort to break even. I fell into the latter category. My brother and I decided to place a wheels trifecta bet on race 12. essentialy, all of the following were neccessary for us to win: horse 7 had to win, either horse 3 or 5 had to get second, and any of the other horses could get third. Our minimum bet cost us $10. We went back to our seat and race 11 was starting. i looked down and noticed that our bet was actually for race #11, and not #12 like we thought. Then I looked up and saw that our bet was falling into place. Watching the horses come down the final stretch was pretty fun. As it turns out, we won, with a pretty nice payout. In the end, I won back all I lost plus a little extra. all betting on the wrong race.

by the time we got home, we were pretty tired from the sun and booze. we had grandiose plans to go out that never materialized. the older part of the group blamed it on their age, those of us with wives blamed it on our wives, and little brother with the neck brace just vanished into his room. in the end we were all in bed about 10 PM sleeping off the 12 hours of gambling and booze.