Saturday...in the Park...

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The World Class Arlington Park

Saturday…in the Park…

The weather was delightful this past Saturday afternoon in Arlington Heights, Illinois. A warm sun was shining with just a touch of humidity, tempered by a familiar light breeze flowing across the way in a westerly fashion. The older generation would call it a “chamber of commerce day”, a highlight of the spectacular spring days often found in the Chicagoland, each one putting the bitter cold of winter further and further behind in life’s rear view mirror. 

Arlington Park, a jewel of a racetrack, was bustling with activity this spring day, patrons moving about the sprawling grandstand with its clean, white marble floors gleaming. Outside on the apron, neat looking rows and rows of sturdy wooden benches with corresponding numbers attached to the back were mostly covered with all sorts of people. There were families with children, young women in fashionable attire, a ton of thirty and forty somethings clutching a cold beer or cocktail, and the typical older set of grizzled railbirds that inhabit most racetracks, though that type seems to be an endangered species. The crowd, which was capped at 4500 by management in consultation with local health officials, seemed larger perhaps because not all of the facility was accessible. For some bizarre reason the incredible and very much outdoors paddock and saddling area was off limits to all except a small group of owners and trainers which kept the paying customers funneled into the grandstand seating and aforementioned bustling apron of benches

It was a relatively boisterous yet pleasant crowd. They cheered for the horses racing by but some of them also naively cheered the post parade too. Modern tracks often have more bettors watching televised races from other locations, better horses and bigger names than the local fare. Not this sunny day at Arlington though. Outside of one particularly loud individual that used some interesting verbiage to root home the “freaking two horse” in Santa Anita’s 4th, most of the focus was on the live racing conducted over the black synthetic polytrack or lush and unusually wide grass course. The fields in most of the eight races that made up Saturday’s afternoon card were competitive events with full gates of modestly talented horses ridden by an equally modestly talented group of journeyman jockeys. There were some favorites that got the job done and at least one close to impossible bomber that scored at 33-1, yet all results seemed to be taken in stride by the jovial congregation. 

There weren’t a lot of people donning the masks which have become common in a pandemic world, but there was still a scattering of them. One of the longtime ushers, clad in their traditional red vests over white long sleeved shirts, mentioned that they had been instructed not to be confrontational over mask usage and that likely played a part in the relaxed atmosphere. Much of the conversation overheard seemed to indicate that for many this was the first time in what seemed like ages that they had been back to a setting with a crowd and no social distancing or required mask usage. Racing at Arlington in 2020 had been conducted without fans so it had literally been years since they been at the races in person. It might also be literally the final time.

Despite the energy and vitality that a balmy, sun-splashed spring day brings, it was impossible to escape a morbidly nervous feeling that hung over the building. Perhaps the slogan of Final Turn being used by the executioners of this amazing place plays a role in that uneasy sentiment. Death always comes with finality, the loss of hope is the last emotion to go. That hopelessness is seen on the faces of those for whom Arlington Park has been a central part of their life, feeling it slipping away seems agonizing, especially since there seems to be so little that can be done to save it. It isn’t that there aren’t those still in the trenches, willing to fight to the bitter end, turning over every rock looking for a way to preserve and carry on the longstanding tradition of summer racing in Chicago. It’s that they are running out of time.

“The future is uncertain but the end is always near”

The legendary Jim Morrison wasn’t thinking about Arlington Park when he penned those lyrics, yet for quite some time they perfectly represented the uncertainty surrounding Mr.Duchossois’s masterpiece. Now that the end is approaching even the anger that exists within the hearts of so many that have invested so much of themselves in this incredible place has receded. Resignation has replaced rage and a sense of inevitability exists where optimism once lived. Still when one glances around the beautiful and immaculately kept race track grounds it’s hard to believe that this place might soon be facing the wrecking ball. Unlike the upsetting but empty endings at other longtime stalwarts Suffolk, Atlantic City and Calder where decaying facilities coupled with greatly reduced schedules placed them in racing hospice, Arlington remains vibrant and relevant even as the racing product slid in quality. 

The glum irony was this past Saturday was the perfect setting with the perfect crowd under perfect weather conditions to introduce a newcomer to the decidedly imperfect yet greatest game ever invented. Nevertheless barring a last second Hail Mary from some secret white knight, Saturday September 25th will be the final day of horse racing forever in Arlington Heights, Illinois. That is going to be a wound that won’t heal for so many who slog through the prolonged, frigid winters here, dreaming of warm, sunny days like this past Saturday at Arlington Park.