Bukowski at the track

Two part question.

In many Bukowski stories, he details various systems he used at the racetrack. Has anyone ever put any of his theories in effect at the racetrack? Some of the stories are very detailed and seem to be possible with the very little I know about racing. Besides a few harness races I've attended, I hardly know anything about the sport. But I am curious if anyone with experience would agree that his theories and systems had validity. The second part of my question is about the bookstore owner in L.A that he's mentioned in a few stories and poems. Red Stoldosky, or something similar. I know his first name was Red in the stories. The last name I'm stating from memory and probably is incorrect. I was wondering about this bookstore and if anyone had known the place or Red. Thanks guys and girls...

Shane
 
Can't help you with the bookstore owner, but as far as the racetrack "system" goes, every horse player has some kind of goofy theory or method they employ. They all lose. Many of them involve assigning a number value to various statistics such as speed, distance, class and so forth. A horse with a higher number is "the winner" and the lower ones are supposedly the losers. Of course when these sysytems don't work, there's usually an excuse - the weather or an inexperienced rider......whatever.

However, Buk had remarkable restraint in the self-pity department. I would assume he took losing in stride, just like the other bad breaks he had in life.
 
The bookstore owner, Red Stodolsky, is mentioned in some of the threads here by people who knew him...
 
In many Bukowski stories, he details various systems he used at the racetrack. Has anyone ever put any of his theories in effect at the racetrack?

I'm rereading Hollywood and I was thinking the samething;


horse 1.7
horse 2.3
horse 3.5
horse 4.1
horse 5.2
horse 6.4
horse 7.8
horse 8.6
The system? Well , you take the horse's odds that go off below the number of the handicapper's selection. Then take the greatest drop. For example, horse1, selection 7 going off at 4-to-1 is better than horse 6, selection 4 going off at 3-to-1. There is one expection to this system. If horse 4 goes off at below 1, that is 4/5 or below, then pass the race if there is nothing working against it. That is because playes on nohing but odds-on-favorites always show a loss.
 
I'm rereading Hollywood and I was thinking the samething;


horse 1.7
horse 2.3
horse 3.5
horse 4.1
horse 5.2
horse 6.4
horse 7.8
horse 8.6
The system? Well , you take the horse's odds that go off below the number of the handicapper's selection. Then take the greatest drop. For example, horse1, selection 7 going off at 4-to-1 is better than horse 6, selection 4 going off at 3-to-1. There is one expection to this system. If horse 4 goes off at below 1, that is 4/5 or below, then pass the race if there is nothing working against it. That is because playes on nohing but odds-on-favorites always show a loss.

Jerry - You did a good job of describing a system that takes into account the "action" (or money wagered) that a particular horse receives right up until the race takes off vs. the handicapper's prediction - which is done a day or two ahead of time. It's always wise to watch for unusual differentials between the two. Sometimes it is revealing, sometimes it is not.

The reason it is not is because when the odds on a particular horse begin to drop, there is often a herd mentality that takes over, and the bettors go nuts. Copy-cat behavior, basically.

I recommend ignoring the odds ENTIRELY and just looking at distance, class, and speed. Maybe check the track conditions and the rider/driver. That's it.

As for sentimentality/superstition (a betting strategy all it's own), I rarely pass on a grey horse. They're so beautiful to watch, you can't lose. What the hell. You know, it's a fun sport to take part in as long as you stay on the right side of the rail.

(Oh, now you got me started - we could chat about this for days - AND it's Kentuck Derby season :) )
 
Here's my strategy for the track:

Throw on a cheap suit (is there any other kind?) remember to grab the shades, and whatever other additives are necessary. Throw a few dollars at the betting window, and make straight for the bar/clubhouse.

I employed this system quite regular back in the seventies, when the big-shot high roller types still rolled in Caddy's and Lincolns. Always the big pinky rings and chains, big dolls too. Big hair and tits.

Saddle up the naughhyde, pretend to watch the monitors, and lubricate. Set up a couple of rounds, wait for results.

Screw the horses, the real beasts are always at the bar.
 
When did Buk first go to the racetrack?

I have been a regular horseplayer for more than 50 years. I have been a reader of Bukowski for 46 years. The intersection of those passions has led me to research Bukowski’s racetrack poetry over the past 12 years, and more intensively since I retired a couple of years ago.

Lately, I have been wondering when Bukowski started going to the track. If many of the biographers are to be believed (Cherkovski, Malone, Miles, Sounes), Bukowski’s introduction to the track was in the spring of 1955. Their source appears to be Part IV of the 1982 publication Horsemeat. The bukowski.net timeline provides evidence that Bukowski’s recollection was off target and, consequently, the biographers get the year wrong. The timeline refers to an 8-25-1954 letter to Whim Burnett. Bukowski wrote: “Late last April my belly broke open and I had hemorrhages right, left and upsidedown. They put me in the charity ward of the General Hospital and socked me with seven pints of blood in 24 hours.”

Horsemeat credits Jane Cooney Baker with introducing Bukowski to the track as a suitable distraction, a way to waste time and take his mind off the drinking: “they told me that if I ever took another drink I would be dead.”

‘We’ll play the horses,’ she said.
‘Horses?’
Yeah, they run and you bet on them.’
She found some money on the boulevard. We went out. I had 3 winners, one of them paid over 50 bucks. It seemed very easy.

This sort of success on your first day at the track is not impossible. However, we know Bukowski was not beyond self-mythologizing. Notably, he lists the number of winners but names no horses. I have spent a lot of time reconciling horses, jockeys, and track events named by Bukowski with horse racing records from Equibase, the Daily Racing Form, and the Keeneland Library. Bukowski’s recollections of horses and races are frequently specific and, while not perfect, they are accurate more often than not.

All this leads me to wonder whether Bukowski actually first ventured to the track in 1953.

The uncollected 1991 poem “Hymn From the Hurricane of the Blinking Eye,” (collected as “Hymn From the Hurricane” in Open All Night) is specific:

“name of the first horse I ever bet was Royal Serenade who won so long ago,
Johnny Longden and I are still alive.”

Royal Serenade was a real racehorse. And he raced in California. And Hall of Fame jockey Johnny Longden was his rider. And he raced only in 1953.

If Bukowski knew next to nothing about the track until 1954, it is hard to credit that he would know the name of a horse who never raced beyond August 1953, let alone name it as the first horse he ever bet.

Royal Serenade was a good one. Bred in Ireland, the horse spent his first three seasons racing in England where he was the champion sprinter at three and four. He was purchased by the Canadian racing partnership Alberta Ranches in 1952 and brought to the US. He won six races from 12 starts in California, including the 1953 Hollywood Gold Cup.

If we believe the poetic claim that Royal Serenade was his first bet, then Bukowski’s Horsemeat claim about his first day at the track is flimsy. On only one of Royal Serenade’s twelve racing days was there a horse that “paid over 50 bucks.” Badge of Valor paid $175.20 in winning the 8th race at Santa Anita on January 15, 1953. Another came close. Strip paid $49.60 on February 12, 1953. In both those instances, Royal Serenade was in the 7th race on an eight-race card. No chance to pick three winners.

If there’s any day when it was possible for Bukowski to have placed his first bet on Royal Serenade, and have picked three winners, and have one of them paying off big (though not over 50 bucks), it was June 5, 1953, at Hollywood Park. Royal Serenade ran last in the 5th race. The winners of the remaining three races paid $10.20, $4.20, and $34.00. To hit on those would be a resounding finish to a first day at the track. As any seasoned horseplayer knows, winning at the racetrack just isn’t ever “very easy.” One could forgive Bukowski if that $34 winner inflated to “over 50 bucks” when writing Horsemeat almost 30 years after the event.

I conclude that the Horsemeat account is better understood as poetic invention than reliable biography.

I do think there’s an argument for Bukowski’s introduction to the track occurring in 1953. Maybe it was June 5th. Of course, we’ll never know. As he said himself in the uncollected 1992 poem, “The Gamblers”: “when there’s a story about the track, they / always get it wrong.”

What do you all think?
 
Wow. Your long, detailed post makes me think you're as subnormal as the best subnormal people here. I don't think anyone here or in the universe can answer your question or provide much in the way of additional perspective. You seem to have done your research as far as I can tell. But I will offer you this unpublished manuscript that he wrote on Mariposa where he lived from 1956-1964. Whether he ever bet on Citation, only Bukowski knows, but it probably adds to your quest.

IMG_20251012_0001 (1).jpg
 
I’ve been puttering around with the racetrack poems for some time. Just recently, I came up with a find that made me happy and I thought I’d share.

The 1984 poem, “trying to make it” (collected in You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense) tells of a young, unnamed jockey trying to break into the nation’s top jockey colony in Southern California. Inexperienced with traffic on the day of the USC-UCLA football game, he gets stuck in traffic and is too late getting to Hollywood Park for his mount in the first race. Of course, the horse wins.

I was able to figure out that the jockey was Marty Wentz. I found him on Facebook and he confirmed the accuracy of the poem. With one win in a month of trying, he conceded that he was indeed not going to make it in LA. He returned to Turf Paradise in Phoenix. He had a very successful career there and in other second and third tier tracks, retiring in 1997 with 979 career wins.

As the poet says:

sometimes getting started
in the big time
is tantamount to
trying to raise an erection
in a tornado
and even if you do
nobody has the time
to notice.
 

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