Sunday, June 8, 2014

I LIKE A SORE LOSER: STEVE COBURN, California Chrome's Daddy

On the same day when Maria Sharapova and Simona Halep went three grueling hours...and ended by congratulating each other...

Just a week after Carl Froch and George Groves went eight grueling rounds of trying to punch each other to the ground, only to end up offering mutual respect (which they swore they wouldn't do after the fight)...

Steve Coburn suddenly thundered out his total lack of sportsmanship. As soon as his horse California Chrome lost (tied for fourth place) he cried foul:

“This is the coward’s way out,” Coburn shouted. He was like some Kentucky Colonel in a Warner Bros. cartoon: "You know of course, suh, that THIS MEANS WAR!"

Cowards? A few other wily horse owners figure their horses are better suited to a mile and half, so they run them in Belmont...and they're cowards?

Some owners are smart enough not to waste their time and money putting their horses in races they can't win...and this seems to be determined by temperature, track and distance (it takes a lot of money to cart a horse to Kentucky, just to watch him lose).

Funny, Steve Coburn didn't seem to be worried about "cowards" when he strutted his paunchy body around before the race, or for several weeks leading up to Belmont. He didn't grimace and say, "My horse might not win, y'all, because of carpetbaggers at that Yankee track at Belmont..."

Nossir.

He was happy to look the part of a millionaire fat cat with nothing better to do than suck mint julep and have the family females mince around in ridiculous outfits that look like they were made by Aunt Jemima (on her day off from makin' biscuits).

They're all pretty much like that, even the nice ones. They're all fat rich guys preserving a vaguely racist tradition of showing off their prize stallions while keeping a sharp eye on the little lawn jockeys who better know their place. In that sense, horse racing has the same whiff of manicured dirt as golf, which is also a rich man's game and loaded with attitude and a sense of entitlement. The main difference is that golf is almost never exciting, while most horse races are...if only to wonder if the beloved horse is going to pull up lame and get shot in the head.

Once Coburn's invincible nag (4-5 betting favorite, most other horses 10-1 or worse) ran out of gas on the long track...the fault was that all the horses ahead of him were...cowards.

"I'm 61 years old and I’ll never see another Triple Crown winner," he cried. 61? Looked more like 71 to me. Looked more like Bad Santa in a plantation hat, actually.

But now, turning a 180 and coming down the stretch, let ME turn around and say: "GOOD FOR YOU, COBURN!"

It's a bit refreshing to see real emotion, real griping, and instead of sportsmanship, an honest attempt to bitch and moan and find an excuse.

Sure, somewhere in the course of his ramble he admitted the horse "didn't have it in him" (which is what the jockey said). But it was more amusing when his rant was met with disapproval from his wife (seen in the photo, looking quite dismayed). After he grimaced his bad sportsmanship to NBC's reporter, he turned on her with an exasperated "I don't CARE!" Act like a sore loser? Don't mind if I do...

He almost had a few believing in his sudden new philosophy (at least, he didn't mention this before the race) that only the original 20 who ran in the Kentucky Derby should be allowed in the Preakness or at Belmont.

A few dutifully wishy-washy reporters actually headlined, "Should horses be allowed to skip the Derby or Preakness??"

"The coward's way out," said Coburn. Only the 20 from the Derby can play!

Which is sort of like saying if a tennis player didn't sign up for the clay at Roland Garros, that player shouldn't be allowed on the grass at Wimbledon, or the asphalt of the U.S. Open. Or that if a boxer isn't in the Top 10 rankings, he can't fight someone who is.

I'm not a tout, but I had a pretty good idea that California Chrome was not strong enough for a mile and a half, and that it would be either Tonalist, Ride on Curlin or Wicked Strong. There were several horses known for going that long distance.

There's a good reason no horse has won the Triple Crown since 1978. Just how many Derby and Preakness winners lost to a horse that wasn't in either race...I guess Steve Coburn looked it up and didn't think it suited his sudden outburst of NO FAIR and CHANGE THE RULES.

If his horse had won, do you think he would've been mentioning any of this NO FAIR and CHANGE THE RULES stuff? Of course not, and that's what's so great about him. Sports needs a "You can NOT be serious" guy being comically ridiculous now and then. Once in a while you want a baseball manager like Billy Martin or Earl Weaver, or a pitcher with pine tar hidden in his cap or smeared on his neck. It gets boring when even Carl Froch, a surly sort of fellow with great ego, can say before the fight, "I will not shake his hand after." Then after, he declares it was a close fight that could've gone either way...until he landed one KO punch.

I never root for a horse to win the triple crown. Rich, egotistic white guys being happy and boastful...doesn't make my day. Having millions of tyro idiots who never follow the sport EXCEPT if there's a triple crown winner...glad to see 'em go to Belmont and emerge disappointed, burping their beer, ripping up their tickets...and ready to go back to the bleachers of a Mets game where they belong.

Tonalist...and Coburn...made this a memorable Belmont!

Take heart, idiots, California Chrome may not have made it, but maybe next year it'll be Google Chrome. Or Google Glasses. Or whatever they want to name the horse they own. Google does own almost everything (even Blogspot) so they have the power to not only own the best horse, but bribe every other jockey to throw the race (Google knows whatever fine or penalty they get is nothing compared to the money they've made). Crowds will cheer the Triple Crown Googler, marvel at whatever "cute" Google animation is on the opening page, and leave Steve Coburn to shout "Cowards! Cowards!" or "Bing! Bing!"in utter futility.

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