ProStockJunkie
Nitro Member
- Joined
- Jul 9, 2006
- Messages
- 4,406
- Age
- 79
- Location
- New Jersey, USA
I've never been this 'involved' with the welfare of a horse I never met.
I hope this magnificent colt beats all the odds.
Why we care about Barbaro
by rob charry
Boston.metro.us
JUL 17
Someone asked me this past week why we care so much about a horse and why we are so drawn to the daily updates about his gallant fight for life. Aside from the fact that Barbaro won the biggest race of the year, the Kentucky Derby, by the widest margin of victory in a Derby in 60 years, let me explain why it seems so natural for this city to love a horse who won the equivalent of a Super Bowl, Word Series, Stanley Cup and NBA championship in his sport.
A horse doesn’t get accused of assaulting his wife, take the mound two days later and then take a few weeks to iron out his problems, and then get back on the mound again yesterday.
A horse doesn’t complain he’s a scapegoat when he’s criticized for not playing and/or not acknowledging the paying customers on Fan Appreciation Night.
A horse doesn’t say that talk show callers are crazy and lament that negative fans are in part responsible for his team’s woes — for the past 13 years.
A horse doesn’t tell you his franchise is the “gold standard” and act like he’s won a Super Bowl, before he actually has won a Super Bowl.
A horse doesn’t tell us he’s improved his hockey team, which again got knocked out in the first round of the playoffs, by signing several no-name free agents.
A horse doesn’t promise to change the culture of his playoff-challenged team and then proceed to watch for a couple of weeks while nearly every other team changes players and the “culture” of their franchises.
A horse doesn’t tell us his wide receivers are good enough to win a championship, when they’re clearly not even good enough to win a division.
A horse doesn’t tell you they’re still in the wild card race when they are six games out, with seven teams sitting in front of them.
A horse wouldn’t dare ask for your patience for a few more years so they can rebuild a baseball team for the 10,000th time, just in case they’re not in the wild card race.
A horse doesn’t feign surprise when history continues to repeat itself and his hockey team’s deficiencies are exposed in the playoffs year after year.
A horse doesn’t get tired in the Super Bowl or write about the fact that he’s not the one who got tired in the Super Bowl. Or that he wasn’t referring to a certain quarterback who may or may not have gotten sick in the huddle but we’ll never really know because it’s none of our business. There are certain things mere mortals like fans can’t fathom and aren’t entitled to have knowledge of, even though we live and die with the team every single day of every single week of every single year.
A horse would never ask us to pray for his sorry team. Sorry, Charlie, if I’m praying for anything or anybody this week or any week, it’s for Barbaro to live a long, peaceful life and hopefully sire champion race horses. It’s the best we can hope for at this moment and time.
I hope this magnificent colt beats all the odds.
Why we care about Barbaro
by rob charry
Boston.metro.us
JUL 17
Someone asked me this past week why we care so much about a horse and why we are so drawn to the daily updates about his gallant fight for life. Aside from the fact that Barbaro won the biggest race of the year, the Kentucky Derby, by the widest margin of victory in a Derby in 60 years, let me explain why it seems so natural for this city to love a horse who won the equivalent of a Super Bowl, Word Series, Stanley Cup and NBA championship in his sport.
A horse doesn’t get accused of assaulting his wife, take the mound two days later and then take a few weeks to iron out his problems, and then get back on the mound again yesterday.
A horse doesn’t complain he’s a scapegoat when he’s criticized for not playing and/or not acknowledging the paying customers on Fan Appreciation Night.
A horse doesn’t say that talk show callers are crazy and lament that negative fans are in part responsible for his team’s woes — for the past 13 years.
A horse doesn’t tell you his franchise is the “gold standard” and act like he’s won a Super Bowl, before he actually has won a Super Bowl.
A horse doesn’t tell us he’s improved his hockey team, which again got knocked out in the first round of the playoffs, by signing several no-name free agents.
A horse doesn’t promise to change the culture of his playoff-challenged team and then proceed to watch for a couple of weeks while nearly every other team changes players and the “culture” of their franchises.
A horse doesn’t tell us his wide receivers are good enough to win a championship, when they’re clearly not even good enough to win a division.
A horse doesn’t tell you they’re still in the wild card race when they are six games out, with seven teams sitting in front of them.
A horse wouldn’t dare ask for your patience for a few more years so they can rebuild a baseball team for the 10,000th time, just in case they’re not in the wild card race.
A horse doesn’t feign surprise when history continues to repeat itself and his hockey team’s deficiencies are exposed in the playoffs year after year.
A horse doesn’t get tired in the Super Bowl or write about the fact that he’s not the one who got tired in the Super Bowl. Or that he wasn’t referring to a certain quarterback who may or may not have gotten sick in the huddle but we’ll never really know because it’s none of our business. There are certain things mere mortals like fans can’t fathom and aren’t entitled to have knowledge of, even though we live and die with the team every single day of every single week of every single year.
A horse would never ask us to pray for his sorry team. Sorry, Charlie, if I’m praying for anything or anybody this week or any week, it’s for Barbaro to live a long, peaceful life and hopefully sire champion race horses. It’s the best we can hope for at this moment and time.
