WON'T YOU BE MY BOOKIE?

“Seeing that 2006 looked to be bursting in anticipation for the eventual Triple Crown victory of the unshakable Barbaro, we at Rivalfish knew we needed a sidekick to join our current horseracing expert, Andy Kissko. We hit the OTBs and back-alley gin mills for an expert, preferably of an older generation. You know, to bring you undie-drenching analysis from different perspectives! Anyway, everywhere we went, and everyone we asked pointed us in one direction: Mister Fred Rogers. Apparently after his retirement from Children’s television, Freddy picked up somewhat of a ‘debilitating hobby.’ Nevertheless, he supposedly knew his stuff about the ponies.

So where better to test his skills than in the company of those that made Mister Rogers the empire he once was: Pre-School students. While we eventually decided to ‘go another direction’ than to hire a 75-year-old crumbling degenerate, especially considering that pansy Barbaro’s failure, we have secured the transcripts from his fateful few days in front of the kids. Enjoy!� – Rival Room Editor

Day 1: 5/18/06, Hans Strubel Pre-School, Kansas City, MO

Put everything you own on a little horse called Barbaro, my precious little children. I know that the sport of horse racing is dead and you, in all likelihood, neither know nor care about it. None of that matters. That’s why I’m here to share my favorite hobby with my new best friends and neighbors. This is not about what you like or dislike. This is about your financial stability and the fact that in 30 years your child’s education will cost 215,000. This is about the American dream, boys and girls – free money.

There is a race in two days called the Preakness Stakes. However, those of us who know horse racing just call it The Preakness. Barbaro is going to race in that race and he is going to win it, probably easily.

How do I know this? Well, without going into much horse racing insider lingo, he’s the fastest horse. There is a little race called the Kentucky Derby where Barbaro raced for the first time this year. That race is held in Kentucky. I say that only to illustrate my extensive knowledge of this sport. When he ran in that race, he was racing against the best horsies in the world and he won by eight lengths. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the terminology, eight lengths is approximately 3.2 miles. I did not actually watch the race, as I was being pinned to the alley pavement by a stinky man named Gino, but I’m told that Barbaro lapped all the other horses twice and stuck his tongue out as he crossed the finish line. Goofy horsey!

Not enough for you? Let me tell you more. Barbaro is the only horse you’ll ever have to know. That’s because he is the best. He’ll be a champion racehorse forever and ever! Now some so-called “betting experts� may say that this is actually a bad thing. Apparently, the more people that bet their allowance on a horse, the less money one makes if he wins. I don’t really get it, nor do I care to. I’m not here to confuse you precious little angels with complicated math equations and complex economic conundrums. None of that matters because he’s going to win.

But, you might argue, that’s what every degenerate gambler says. Let’s quit splitting hairs. He’s going to win. And I know your parents are beautiful people. I’ve always said that parents are like shuttles on a loom. They join the threads of the past with threads of the future and leave their own bright patterns as they go. But they don’t know thoroughbreds. So in this case, I’m your mommy and your daddy.

Since you’re all my best friends, I’ll give you one more piece of proof: the other horses are scared to race against him! As of today there were only eight horses signed up to race. Eight! Normally there are, like, a thousand other horses that race. I didn’t actually see The Derby, as I said before, but my sources said there were over 1100 horses that he beat that legendary day.

But not at The Preakness. He’s only got to beat eight because all the other horses are too scared to race against him. By the way, these are not wimpy horses, either. They don’t frighten easily. I heard rumors that one horse who was too scared to sign up had a criminal record that was three pages long. And that list was in a tiny font. Another horse did time in Alcatraz. That was where famous mean people went who didn’t know how to swim! One has been rumored to have murdered at least seven other horses and studded with each of their girlfriends. You get the picture. The point is these horses are scared of nothing, with the exception of racing Barbaro.

I’m done trying to convince you. I’ve given you enough reasons to bet Barbaro. I mean, to ask your parents to bet him for you. Or, if Mommy and Daddy have been fighting a lot lately, or you’ve recently seen Daddy give a big “POW!� to Mommy’s noggin, I can place those bets for you! Who’s got cash? Change? Coupons? Doesn’t anyone get a f*cking allowance these days? Well, anyway, my last piece of sound advice is to bet everything. Don’t go with a mediocre bet that may buy you a decent lunch or new Mego Man, but won’t change your life. Liquidate everything. It’s not like you’re gambling it away. It’s a sure thing. The only way Barbaro wouldn’t win this race is if he broke an ankle or something. He’s a horse. Have you seen a horse’s leg? They’re huge. What are the odds of anything breaking a horse’s leg?


Day 2: 5/19/06 Hans Strubel Pre-School, Kansas City, MO

A quick update – it’s even easier than I thought to liquidate assets. A few signatures here and there, three sets of initials and – baaZing – all my earthly possessions in cash. I even found out I could get something called a signature loan for an extra $8000. Sure, it’s a staggeringly high interest rate, but I’ll be paying it all back tomorrow night anyways. I’ll be going straight from the racetrack to my broker or bookie. I’ll explain more about the negligible difference between the two on another day!

I took that money in a suitcase to the track today to place my bet. Boy, was it heavy. Like a million pounds. It was certainly exciting though. I did not know that the person at the window would sometimes try to talk you out of making exurbanite bets. She said she normally wouldn’t and could, in fact, lose her job for doing so. However, she said, I looked like a nice young man. She was really sweet. I hope when you buy your ticket, or your baby sitter does for you, your attendant is as nice as mine was.

I just have to be sure not to lose my ticket now. Keep your grubby hands off my ticket Timmy. I know your step dad’s Puerto Rican. It’s as good as gold.


Day 3: 5/19/06 Hans Struber Pre-School, Kansas City, MO

Sorry I’m late kids. I moved back with my ex. Despite the astronomical odds, Barbaro broke his ankle during the race and did not win. Some other horse won. I don’t know his name. I call him Satan.

Here’s an interesting fact. They don’t give your money back if a horse is injured during the race. Apparently the bets are final as soon as the race starts.

I’ve called my Uncle Marty to stay with him instead of that “Capital C.� She said something about needing me out, or under 24-hour surveillence. She has locked all of the knives in the bottom cabinet. And she’s annoyed with my bookie, broker, whatever, calling over and over again! He said I had a week to get the money or I would know exactly how Barbaro feels. I’m not sure what that means, but he was talking about that movie The Godfather, which I have never seen. Something about a horsey in bed!

Whatever, I’m not going to let it get me down. I found out that you can bet on baseball and I have some inside information that Derrek Lee and Mark Prior will be back soon. King Friday XIII better float me a G.

-Transcript secured by Rivalfish Operative, Adam Briner, adamcbriner@yahoo.com