Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy!

  

My grandfather was sad.  He had always worn his emotions for everyone to see, and in Riudoso he cried a lot.  He cried when we arrived, he cried whenever anyone talked about MaryAnn, and he cried when any of us sat on his lap. 

The first day in Riudoso our entire family went to the racetrack at Riudoso Downs.  My dad gave my brother and me ten dollars to spend any way we wanted.  Patrick and I loved to watch the horses as the approached the starting gate.  We thought we could tell which horse looked faster by the way the strutted down the track.  My dad and Uncle bought a racing forum as we entered. They read the statistics of each horse before they made their bets.  Pat and I only bet to win, place, or show, while my father and uncle would place more exotic bets like the daily doubles, exactas, and the quinellas.

By the end of the afternoon, Patrick and I were broke; I think everyone else was too.

The next day, Patrick and I convinced my oldest cousin, Clay to take us back.  Before we left, my dad pulled us aside and gave us some money to bet the Super Tri in the 4^th and 6^th race of the day.  The way the Super Tri worked was the better picked the top three horses in order in the 4^th race and the top four horses in order in the 6^th race.  The pot was carried over until it is won.  I believe the Super Tri that day was at $32,500.

We had a great time at the races.  Patrick, Clay, and I lost all our money and headed home.  In the back seat of the car I noticed I still had my racing card with our picks and the finishers.  I noticed that my dad’s picks for the Super Tri were not too far off so I made a few changes on my card to make it look like he would have won.  I did not tell anyone.

We arrived home with all the family around and told them about our day and about how much fun we had.  My grandfather asked me if I had won anything, I emptied my pockets of change and mostly losing tickets and of course the doctored racing card. 

Time passed, about an hour, maybe more before my dad noticed my racing card.  My dad is a great man, great in the sense of his capacity for generosity, love, and patience.  But as he started to realize what was on my racing card he changed…

“CHARLIE!! PATRICK!! CLAY!! Get in here now!”

He started screaming about his bet.  My cousin kept trying to convince him that we had made his bet for him and that it had lost.  Dad kept pointing at the racing card and his racing forum.  Patrick started balling.  The entire family rushed in to see what was going on, it got louder and louder.  I did not say a word.  I just sat. 

Finally it came out.  Clay’s racing card was different from the one in my dad’s hand.  It was then all eyes found me.  I smiled.

Out of the silence came a great laugh, a laugh that came from my grandfather’s belly and filled the room.  The man who cried at the drop of a hat was crying now, crying and laughing.  And then, we were all crying and laughing.

When we left Ruidoso that summer, my grandfather did not just cry, he wept. When I think back to that time it was never weird to me that my grandfather cried, I never felt like it was weakness, in fact it was, in a way comforting to me.  It was comforting to know that someone I loved, and who loved me cared so much.