Published by: Uncle Rico
No, I’m not talking about Bill & Ted’s platinum selling rock band. I’m referring to the first weekend in May. It’s always one of the more action-packed sports weekends of the year. Baseball is in its groove, the NHL & NBA Playoffs have usually gone from a simmer to a boil, the NFL Draft was given hopeful fans a reason to dream of the future, the race for “elevation or relegation” is happening league-wide for football (futbol) across Europe, and one of America’s greatest social events graces the racetracks at Churchill Downs: The Kentucky Derby.
The Kentucky Derby is the last bastion of American tradition that this country has. It is the closest thing to a “Debutante’s Ball” of the Old South (keep your cries of “racism” to yourself). This doesn’t mean that it’s a social event catered & serviced by non-whites. It means that it is a celebration of a few of the things that made America a superpower: Men in seersucker jackets, hot broads in sundresses & big, fancy hats, and tons of action. The Brits have their traditions *cue Coronation jeer* and we have ours.
(If that isn’t a winning look, I don’t know what is)
Somehow, the Kentucky Derby has avoided the standard protest of anything caked in southern tradition. Anytime white elitism is on full display, it tends to come under attack with some complaint (fill in the usual references of slavery and colonialism). And certainly, there is room for those conversations; they aren’t completely out-of-bounds. But not on Kentucky Derby Saturday. Churchill Downs is proof that people prefer having a good time over being miserable. They prefer to celebrate a good time instead of being in a perpetual state of complaining about others living their best lives. Fun trumps all.
(If some rich rando isn’t doing blow off her ass by evenings end, then I’m not your Uncle)
The event has become a who’s who of celebrities & thirsty jock-sniffers. More importantly, it is an absolute trout pond stuffed to the gills with fancy-faced females loaded on mint-julips, mojitos, and vodka sodas. Now, they will be spending half of their time taking selfies & posting videos to social media, but the in-between time is when they shine. While their purpose of attending the event is to be socially affirmed, it is damn near-impossible not to let the juice of such an event overwhelm you with a good time. It is the closest thing to the WMO (Waste Management Open) that sports has, and anybody who’s attended such an event knows how wild it can get.
(Your standard “selfie” broads. This photo represents 75% of their day)
Of course, this does mean that it will be a shitshow full of plenty of bad decisions. There will be plenty of intoxicated pairs (couples & single-serving) slapping skin before, during, and after. By today’s standards, there will be plenty of date rape (both male & female). So general rule of thumb, make’em sign a NDA or some sort of signed affidavit of consent. Most people there can afford lawyers, so bang at your own risk.
(“Before” pictures. Odds they’ll all be facedownassup before 8pm?)
Courting is a staple of southern high society (high society, in general, really) and it is perfectly showcased at “The Derb”. The time-honored tradition of men teaching women something they know nothing about is on full display at all betting-cages. It’s fair to say that 99.99% of women know nothing about betting ponies. It’s also fair to say that 99.999999% of men are full of shit, pretending they know how to read the betting brochures. Nevertheless, the men will flirtatiously educate and the women will graciously accept the flawed lessons (and the $100 bills, plucked from the clenched fingers of the hungry male).
(These broads were put on earth for one reason: to take advantage of desperate old men with too much money & an insatiable thirst for attention from 20-something blondes)
My point is, the Kentucky Derby is one of the few events left in modern society that bring people together. Although sports can be territorially divisive in an ugly way, at times (I’m looking at you, anal warts of America, SF & LA), more often than not, it manages to bring large swaths of individuals to drop their preconceived notions and just have a good time. And specifically with spectator sports like tennis, golf, and ponies & hounds, the crowd seems to unite under the national flag of “Good Times”.
Let’s be honest, how many of you knew that “Mage” won the Kentucky Derby at 15-1 odds? More importantly, how many attendees of The Derb remembered the winner the next day? Maybe half?
Now, of those people who couldn’t remember the winner, how many remembered they had a good time & could provide evidence that they did? How many people who have never met, nor would talk to each other outside Churchill Downs, high-fived & hugged after their betting horse pulled in for a late-finish victory? Hundreds, if not thousands.
That’s called Americans uniting, people. And I, for one, support it.
Not only do I support it, but I celebrate it.
God Bless, America.