HORSE RACING : Del Mar New but Not Improved

This is the season that Del Mar was supposed to become the perfect racetrack. Its old, dilapidated grandstand was going to be replaced by a brand-new facility, eradicating its only blemish. The oceanside track was already blessed with an ambiance, a climate and a high quality of racing that endeared it to devoted fans who wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else during its seven-week summer meeting.

Well-traveled visitors who have seen dozens of other racetracks would agree that there is no place like Del Mar. It has none of the intense, frenetic atmosphere that characterizes a typical track. Because it is located in a stylish beach community, it has absorbed the relaxed feeling of a vacation resort. The late publicist Eddie Read once said that this is a track “where nobody’s in a hurry but the horses,” and that famous comment summed up the place perfectly.

Every day the track is heavily populated by tanned youths for whom T-shirts, halter tops and cut-offs are the obligatory dress, coolers and beach chairs the obligatory equipment. The ambiance seems to soothe even hard-core gamblers. Nobody rushes or jostles his way to the betting windows here; nobody boos a jockey. Even if a bettor is having a bad day, how disgruntled can he be when the weather is 80 degrees and sunny and a gentle breeze is blowing off the ocean?

Despite all of its virtues, though, Del Mar was for most of its history a poor relation of Santa Anita and Hollywood Park. With a short season and relatively small crowds, it couldn’t generate enough revenue to maintain its physical plant properly. (Even in the supposedly upscale Turf Club, carpets were frayed and paint was peeling.) Nor did it have enough revenue to offer the big purses of the Los Angeles tracks, and the quality of its racing was inferior.

But when California legalized inter-track betting in 1988, people in Los Angeles could bet conveniently on the races here, and Del Mar was swept into an era of stunning prosperity. Last year it led the nation with daily average wagering of $7.8 million, money that produced high purses, high-quality racing and a plan for a three-year, $80 million rebuilding project.

The track’s management knew that tampering with a beloved institution was going to be a sensitive task -- even if that institution was decrepit. Said Del Mar’s president, Joe Harper: “The last day I sat in the old box my family had had since the 1930s I kind of got teary-eyed. We had no choice, though; the place was really falling down. But we weren’t going to put up something that took away the charm of Del Mar. We wanted to keep the mission-style architecture, and keep the same feeling of the track.”

On opening day, July 29, the track’s legion of loyalists got their first look at the initial phase of this project, the new grandstand. And they were aghast. They hated it with a passion. Even in this unfailingly congenial, laid-back atmosphere, race-goers were vociferous in their denunciations.

“You will not find one person who thinks this is a wonderful grandstand,” said William Murray, the author of many racetrack novels who has often celebrated this track in print. “Sure, the old place was shoddy and run-down, but it was so relaxed and it had that picnic atmosphere. The new grandstand has taken away the whole feeling of intimacy here. Nobody wanted functionalism at the expense of charm, but this isn’t even functional.”

Critics wondered if the designer of this track ever watched a horse race before. From almost any seat in the grandstand there is an obstruction in the view of the track. There are massive poles. There are ledges that are just a little too high, railings placed annoyingly at eye level. And the seats! They flip up automatically the way movie-theater seats do, so that a horseplayer can’t set his racing form or his binoculars or a drink beside him.

The interior spaces of the grandstand are devoid of style, charm or character. A patron who finds himself amidst the concrete floors, lifeless colors and lack of natural light would see nothing to make him realize that he is in Del Mar rather than, say, a Rhode Island dog track.

Harper said he had been braced for this onslaught of criticism. Some of the sources of annoyance -- the big posts, the seats -- were required because of building codes. He points out, however, that the new grandstand was just the initial phase of a three-year project.

“A lot was done fast to get this ready,” Harper said. “None of the amenities are there now. Wait until you see the Spanish tile in the paddock, the palm trees, the bougainvillea, the fountains, the landscaping. By the time we make the major changes, I think the public will feel a whole lot better.”

For now, however, the Del Mar public doesn’t feel good at all. They worry that the unique charm of this track has been lost forever. They find it difficult to look one or two years into the future; it’s hard enough looking around those big, ugly poles in an effort to see the horses.