Word: grandstands
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Following the mob swarming from the train, you pass sub shops and a nightclub on your way to the grandstand. Behind you is an amusement park where thrill seekers of a tamer sort ride up and down wooden hills. You wade through a parking lot jammed with Pontiacs and Caddies. At the gate you pay your 50 cents and mumble...
...last night and will be here tomorrow. Most people make it every night. It's a regular thing." As post time approaches for the first race, lines quickly form and disperse at the betting windows. The dogs, donned in colored, numbered blankets, leave the kennels and parade past the grandstand, and around the track to the starting blocks. Meanwhile, the unctuous voice of the announcer calls "Hurry, Hurry, Hurrrry--place your bets." The odds on the big boards in the infield flash rapidly with the changing whims of the crowd. Tension mounts as the hounds poise, leap, speed. The rumbling...
Inside, lines quickly form and disperse at the betting windows. As the dogs, donned in colored, numbered blankets, parade past the grandstand and around the track to the "starting blocks," the unctuous, slightly sinister voice of the announcer calls "Hurry, Hurry, Hurrrry--place your bets." The odds on the big boards in the infield flash with the changing whims of the crowd. Tension mounts as the hounds wait, flash, speed. The rumbling mob roars and fragments as the end approaches. The winning number lights up on the board and the favored of fate make their way to the "Collect" windows...
...regulars go to the track in order to watch the dogs. The majority of races are sprints, and even the long races are over before you have time to tear your eyes away from Swifty. In the grandstand, clustered around the TVs, the bettors shriek and yell and hoot and cheer for "2" "8" or "5". Almost no one calls the hounds by name (which is unfortunate since some of them are striking: Mayer, Take Me Tonight, Golden Fairy...
Chasing the mechanical rabbit around the far side of the track, the greyhounds seem far removed from the frantic pursuit in the grandstand. Their motives are uncomplicated, instinctual, products of an evolutionary trail springing in ancient Egypt and exploited by their upbringing on one of the 200 or so kennels in this country...