A Horse Race

The horse set is in New York this weekend for the Belmont Stakes, the final race in the Triple Crown.

The gamblers would, naturally enough, like to know which horse will win so that they can make some money.

That's the thing with horses. You never know which one is going to be faster on any given day.

You can buy a yearling thoroughbred for $15,000 if you're interested in playing the racing game. For that kind of big money, the only certainty is the animal's bloodline. A guarantee that a colt sired by Secretariat is going to match dear old dad's abilities? No guarantees whatsoever.

Millions of dollars are spent every year to breed, board, train and race, with no promise of a decent return on investment.

Ask anyone who raises racing thoroughbreds and they'll tell you it's the dumbest animal in God's creation. But there's no beast more beautiful, more graceful, than a horse in full stride, running as fast as its skinny ankles can muster. For that, I'll watch the Belmont Stakes and never consider putting any money down. All the pleasure's in the elegance, not the excitement of a wager.