Earlier this week, I was thrilled to hear that Fort Erie racetrack had been given a new lease on life. There would be horse racing at the 116 year old facility in 2013, as reports of it's imminent death were somewhat premature. Thank goodness! Fort Erie is a place where I spent many a fine afternoon, starting at a very young age. You see, my maternal grandfather, my father and my father's brothers were all fans of horse racing. When my Dad was a kid, he used to climb up a telephone pole and then shout out the numbers of the horses as they crossed the finish line. This was known as "past posting", a common way to place a bet to the bookmaker, in the hopes that he didn't realize that the race had already been run. My uncle Dave and my Uncle Chuck were regulars at Greenwood, Dufferin Park and Fort Erie. I recall them telling me a story about a horse that went for a swim one day in the infield lake. I looked it up. It's true.
In 1961, a horse named Puss n Boots, who was leading a race, left the track and decided he wanted to take a refreshing dip in the scenic lake that is the centrepiece of the Fort Erie infield. Jockey Ronnie Behrens was sent flying as Puss n Boots determined that a lovely swim would be more fun than winning a silly race. Try telling that to those who had actually bet on Puss n Boots!
A decade or so later, I had my greatest day ever at the racetrack. It was at Fort Erie on a Friday afternoon. The horse's name was "No Response" and my friend Bernie had gotten a "tip" on the horse from his father, who knew a guy who knew the trainer of the horse. Apparently, "No Response" was in great shape and well slotted in a race against inferior opponents. He was listed at 5-1 odds in the morning line, and the "tip" was only on if the jockey gave a particular signal. He would come out of the tunnel and onto the racetrack where the bugler introduced the field to the patrons. If the jockey reached down and began adjusting his stirrup during the post parade, they were going for the win. Now, this wasn't a "fix" (when other jockeys hold their horses back to allow another to win) it was a "tip" that the horse was in shape and rarin' to go.
Bernie and I skipped school that afternoon and drove down the QEW to Fort Erie. "No Response" was scheduled to run in the third race, at about 2:30 p.m. We ran into some traffic problems at the Burlington Skyway, which was a toll bridge at the time and had long lineups, and then we had to high-tail it the rest of the way. We got to Fort Erie with about 15 minutes to spare, ran up to the third floor, so we wouldn't be spotted by Bernie's father, and watched the horses come out of the tunnel for the 3rd race. Sure enough, the jockey on "No Response" (who shall remain nameless) began adjusting his stirrup. We watched through binoculars. "Did he just do what I think he did?" The answer was "yes" and off we went to the betting windows. I had saved up all my money, 120 dollars, and decided to put it all on "No Response". I had never been so nervous in my life. Bernie put all his money on the horse too. A couple of hundred bucks, I think. Then we went back to our lookout spot, making sure Bernie's father didn't see us from two floors below.
"No Response" looked very calm during the pre-race warmup. He was listed at 8-1 on the big tote board in the infield, which meant he wasn't given much of a chance in the race. He wore saddle cloth number 5, and immediately broke first from the middle of the pack as the starting gate opened. The first words out of track announcer Darryl Wells' mouth were "No Response takes the early lead". From that moment on, it's a blur. "No Response" led by a length, then two lengths, then three. On the far turn, he opened up by about five lengths, but rather than get excited, I was worried that he might be burning himself out too soon. Bernie had a rolled up racing program and kept hitting me with it, as if I were the horse and he was the jockey trying to urge me on. It must've hurt, but I didn't care. "No Response" now led by 7 lengths entering the stretch. It was as if he were "Secreteriat" but racing under a different name. In mid-stretch, there was no doubt that he was going to win. The only question was: by how much? At the wire, "No Response" won by 13 lengths. I kissed Bernie on the cheek. I let out a "whoop" (which I'm sure Bernie's father heard from the first floor) and we waited for the result of the race to be declared "Official".
When the tote board finally lit up, "No Response" had paid $19.00 on a two dollar win ticket. I collected $1140 dollars for my $120 dollar investment, and kicked myself for not having bet more. Why didn't I ask my father for a loan? ("Dad, I need a hundred bucks so I can bet on a horse"). Bernie collected over $2000 that day, and then admitted to his father later that we had skipped school in order to go to Fort Erie and make the bet. Luckily, his Dad didn't give him a hard time about it. Apparently the old man made several grand on the "tip".
Several years later, I was hosting a sports phone-in show on 590 CKEY Radio in Toronto (now The Fan). My guest was that very jockey who rode "No Response". I told him about that day at Fort Erie and how we watched anxiously to see if he would adjust his stirrup on "No Response" during the post parade. His response shocked me. "I would ALWAYS adjust my stirrups in the post-parade" he claimed. "You mean you weren't signalling that you were 'going for it' that day?" "Not at all. I was always trying to win".
That man is now on Fort Erie's Sports Wall of Fame. I'll be going back to the "Fort" this spring so I can soak up the atmosphere and remember the good times. Anybody got a cigar?
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