Bird in the Hand Is Good Bet at the Track

During Thanksgiving Week at old Suffolk Downs, Bill Veeck, then proprietor, used to turn loose flocks of live turkeys, inviting clients to run them down and take them home.

Bill wouldn’t release his turkeys until after the last race because of problems that might have developed with earlier dispersal.

What would a guy do with his bird if he wanted to go to the window?

Would he ask his neighbor: “Will you please watch my turkey while I make a bet?”

Studying the logistic problems of live turkeys up for grabs, Hollywood Park each Thanksgiving approaches the matter in a way that is tidier.

It offers everyone coming through the gate a free Thanksgiving dinner.

Now, you ask clinically, what variety of individual wants to spend Thanksgiving at a race track? And you discover there are two varieties.

One is that person of culture seeking a dimension on Thanksgiving broader than a turkey dinner. Man doesn’t live by stuffing alone.

But you give him nine races, a daily double, exacta, trifecta and pick six, and his intellect is awakened.

Then there is that traditionalist with a commitment to American history. It is a well-known fact that the pilgrims left the old world to escape persecution for going to the track on Thursdays. Landing on our shores in 1620, their leader looked at his watch. He announced:

“There is still time to catch the first at Plymouth Downs.”

And, gathering at the clubhouse turn, they would kneel and offer thanks for the freedom they found in this new land.

Thanksgiving days were then selected at random, usually linked to a good harvest or a victory over the Indians.

It would remain for President Lincoln to proclaim officially the last Thursday in November as Thanksgiving Day. For this gesture, a savings and loan would be named in his memory.

But Franklin D. Roosevelt later would suggest the third Thursday in November for Thanksgiving Day, pointing out that the earlier the holiday is celebrated, the better the chance for a fast track.

For that reason, Canada celebrates a Thanksgiving Day on a Monday in October.

Well, we have a talk with the catering manager of Hollywood Park, Bob Creelman, who informs us that 3,000 turkeys have been ordered for the purpose of feeding an estimated 18,000 horse players Thursday.

That amounts to one turkey for every six players, indicating people going to the track are eating like a horse. Lost in deep and profound cerebrations, engulfed by scientific data, your average player normally eats like a bird.

But then normally he is paying for it.

When a horse dies at the track, it is rated a tragedy. But 3,000 turkeys bite the dust and no one blanches.

Nor is it even reported that the turkeys were humanely destroyed, as were the yams, mashed potatoes, cranberries, dressing and pumpkin pies.

We ask a horse player: “Sir, why have you chosen to spend Thanksgiving at a race track?”

He answers: “Choosing between my relatives and the horses, I make the horses 1-5.”

Now we ask a horse: “Do you have objections to running on Thanksgiving Day?”

“I lodged a beef,” he replies. “I thought it would be nice to fly back to Lexington and be with my family. But racing people reminded me that guys play football on Thanksgiving Day. They also play hockey. And if they suffer no twinges spilling blood on a holiday, my running six furlongs is small time.”

The horse ponders this a moment, then adds: “How would you like to be dealing blackjack on Thanksgiving? A job is a job.”

When Hollywood Park serves 3,000 turkeys, as it aims to do, what happens to those parts that aren’t put on the plate? Where, for instance, does one go to move 3,000 gizzards.

And if socialites, movie celebrities and politicians work the serving line at a rescue mission on Thanksgiving, why would they ignore horse players, from whose ranks the mission population swells?

Feeding 18,000 horse players, Hollywood Park is showing social sensitivity that has to be recognized.