This is a true account of our experience visiting Hollywood Park on its final Saturday (December 21, 2013). I decided to go mostly so I could witness this historic, albeit bittersweet, moment. But I was overcome by the depth of emotion I saw and heard. Here is just a trifle of those conversations and images.
We visited Hollywood Park last Saturday. I didn’t think I could bear going on Sunday, it’s last official day, so we went on Saturday instead. As we walked in from the parking lot, I already heard old-timers recounting grand memories and highlights from the last fifty years.
“Remember Citation in the ’48 Gold Cup?” one guy said. “That was a great day. He tore it up.”
“How about Eddie D.?” another said. “The only comparison in my eyes is Gary Stevens.”
I knew it was going to be a long day. We hadn’t even left the parking lot.
The mood was sullen, quiet, reflective, with the exception of one inappropriate guy yelling at a TV monitor while the national anthem was being sung for one of the last times. There’s always one. In a way, he was the lone reminder of a track that had seen its better days. I found myself feeling silently defensive… of the track, the memories, the history of its past and the sadness of its future.
We walked by the tunnel, and stopped for a moment in front of it, reflecting on the countless horses and riders who walked through that tunnel and proceeded to make history, defining moments of inspiration, setting the bar higher and higher. Seabiscuit & George Woolf. Citation & Steve Brooks. Swaps & Bill Shoemaker. Affirmed & Lafid Pincay, Jr.. Charles Whittingham. Ferdinand. Cigar & Jerry Bailey. Zenyatta & Mike Smith. Mucho Macho Man & Gary Stevens.
An interesting side note is that tons of parents and kids came out for its last weekend. More than normal. Like it should be, I thought. One pair particularly stood out. Both wore their fedoras, and sat on the ground level bleacher seating. Dad and son were going through the program, discussing and deciding their next bet. I snapped a picture and captioned it, “So he’ll remember….” I applauded the father in my heart for immersing his son in this transformative moment.
We wandered upstairs so I could get one last look at the grand panorama. On our way, we passed Jimmy the Hat, dressed up in a black suit, tie, and black fedora. As if he were going to a funeral.
We rode the escalator upstairs, and headed straight to Whittingham’s Pub. Besides being a fabulous open-aired bar with great views of the stretch run, it was also the location of our first cashed ticket—a superfecta that brought back over $200. As we stood there, it became the location of the last cashed ticket we would place at Hollywood Park—a Pick 3 that returned $150. It was a bittersweet moment of clashing emotions.
Nearby, Kurt Hoover of HRTV was standing with a group of men. “I’m not even coming tomorrow. It will be too heartbreaking. I know I couldn’t get through it. Today’s my last day.”
I turned up to the sky and saw the familiar view of a Los Angeles-bound plane coming in for a landing to nearby LAX airport. Though easy to miss the planes in the background now, it was yet another sign of glamour, modernization and progress that Hollywood Park represented in its earlier years.
One of Hollywood Park’s more poignant moments in recent years involved those planes. A massive “Good Luck Zenyatta” banner, signed with well wishes by thousands of her local fans, was positioned on grandstand’s roof for the aerial world to see as Zenyatta left for her last race, the now-infamous 2010 Breeders Cup Classic at Churchill Downs.
We toasted the track that welcomed us into the intoxication of horse racing with one last drink at Whittingham’s, cashed our ticket, and started toward the exit.
As we reached the top of the stairs that overlooked the paddock, we couldn’t believe our eyes. Distinct rays of bright light were shooting down like beams through one spot of an otherwise densely clouded sky directly onto the paddock. It was a heavenly moment, and a fitting reminder that no wrecking ball can touch the untouchable memories, moments, and history that this great track gave us.
Hollywood Park will never be forgotten.
turfsoul 