Big Brown, a 1-4 super hyped super favourite to win horse-racing's triple crown, went to the post at the Belmont Stakes Saturday, just as I was making my son his favourite meal: egg and bacon muffins.
Because of the mass media's super need to hype the crap out of absolutely everything, analysing this animal's breeding stock and so many other almost human traits, well, you KNEW there was no way that this horse, Big Brown, was NOT going to win, right?
It was a Big Bag of Big Brown Wind, as it turns out. But I didn't know that at the time.
Because of the unbelievable hype leading up to the Belmont, I felt like if I had the chance, I should try to watch the race.
But given that I had just finished my work for the day, I asked my son what he wanted to eat. He hasn't felt good this weekend and hasn't eaten a lot. So he asked for one of his faves, the bacon, egg and cheese muffins.
The only problem was, they decided to start the Belmont in New York just as I was making my son's meal. And I have a tendency to overcook eggs. Doh! NOW what do I do?
Before I could consider the options I didn't have, I heard that famous call:
But there was something else calling me too...I had to turn my son's eggs over, so back into the kitchen I ran!
Over went the eggs and I turned down the heat while galloping to the toaster. In there went the muffins. Out of the fridge came the cheese slices. Back into the living room I scurried.
They're in the back-stretch...Big Brown is still in contention, but the super equine wasn't being super dominant.
He wasn't living up to all those ridiculous expectations the entire horse-racing world had blathered on about for weeks. As they're heading for the final turn, he's losing ground.
As Big Brown falls to last in the field and all those millions of dollars are lost or gained in a "sport" that's about nothing other than gambling on animals that are pumped up with drugs, my eggs are over, easy.
The muffins are toasted. I slip the eggs on top of them, then the cheese, then the bacon, then the top slice of muffin.
In the background, I can hear the huge crowd at Belmont watching Big Brown become a Big Bust, finishing dead last, uncontrolled by all the false expectations placed upon him by the money establishment.
Supposedly, had he won, he'd be worth $100 million as a stud, his bloodlines to be passed on and millionaires' hopes and bank accounts raised over generations in what is called, appropriately, the Sport of Kings.
It's unlikely Big Brown will become just another racehorse sent to slaughter. But neither is he likely to ever command $100 million as a semen-producing pot of gold for his owners.
This whole episode brought to mind another recent horse-race, incredibly over-hyped and hampered by poisoned people on either side.
The dark horse (no pun intended), predictably won that race too.
He got 'em, and the eggs weren't overcooked.
Some races are just more important than others. And they're free.