A bad call at a bad time
Some people will tell you that this game is alive and well. They post photos on big days, point out purses, point out flashy new promotions, point out another “fan experience” dreamed up far from the backstretch. But if you’ve been around the sport long enough, if you’ve taken a shot at the eighth post or watched the pools move in the final minute like a stock price on steroids, you know better. You know what the real story is.
And that story took another bad turn when the Breeder’s cup decided not to leave out the CAWs, our friendly, computer-aided gambling whales with two minutes to post. They followed Keeneland’s example and showed the everyday player exactly where he stands in the pecking order. Spoiler alert: it’s nowhere near the top.
Keeneland essentially set the tone a few weeks ago, and the Breeders’ Cup, instead of being the gold standard of the sport, went down the same path. The optics are cruel. The timing is worse. Keeneland leads straight to the Breeders’ Cup, so what message are we sending? That the retail player, the guy who studies replays and charts and Thorograph numbers, who lets this game breathe every day of the year, doesn’t matter? That’s exactly what it looks like.
While the retail handle continues to slide, the CAW handle grows like uncontrolled weeds. It’s an unsustainable ecosystem, plain and simple. The whales feed on the smaller fish until there is nothing left in the pond. And if that happens when the “regular” knight player throws up his hands and walks away, what then?
We already saw a high-profile player throw in the towel. Mattress Mac, James McIngvale reportedly walked out, frustrated by what he called the sport’s lack of integrity. And love him or hate him, the man bet millions, lost big and still brought attention and attention to the game. He was as famous for his seven-figure bets on Kentucky Derby favorites (albeit losing ones) as he was for his furniture empire and for Runhappy, the horse that made his heart beat faster. If someone like that were walking, you’d think it would wake up a few people.
I agree with much of what the Breeders’ Cup does. They have built a world-class event with the best horses from around the world competing on our biggest stage. But this? This was a bad call at a bad time. And speaking of questionable calls, who thought it was a good idea to remove the Breeders’ Cup Classic from its rightful place as the anchor race of the series?
The Classic used to be the grand finale, the main event, the moment that everything built towards. Now the races are spread across a patchwork of networks and time slots, splitting audiences and diluting their impact. Maybe it’s better for television executives, but it’s not better for the game. It’s no better for the fans concern. It stinks for the gamblers.
At some point, the sport has to remember who built it, who carried it, and who still supports it, even when it feels like the deck is stacked. If you don’t take care of your people, your customers, your horseplayers, dare I say gamblers, someone else will.
The Breeders’ Cup got this wrong. And no algorithm, no CAW batch betting and no ‘multi-network strategy’ can hide that.