 |
| BB |
BB, (or the ‘Beeb’) and I were both diminutive souls in high school. In our twenties, you could find us at the race track, albeit a couple thousand miles apart. I might have a pari-mutual ticket worth a couple bucks in my hand. Beeb, on the other hand, might be holding a thousand pounds or so, and I’m not talking the UK variety as you will see. I proceeded to grow a bit upwards, Beeb, a bit outwards. A couple of his high school teachers moonlighted as tellers at the local tracks, and Secretariat had captured the imagination of many, including one BB. Anxious to move on from his job at a vending company he headed for the stables, but to even have a shot at riding, he needed to shed 30 or so pounds of the 138 he carried.
After five years of walking, galloping, and working out the thoroughbreds, a fit, muscular, and condensed version of BB emerged, ready to don some silks. With some jockeys ‘growing up on horses,’ Beeb was late to the party, but he spring boarded off his 18 month apprenticeship into a journeyman. He garnered many victories over his career at various venues, including Arlington, Sportsman’s, Hawthorne, Fairmount Park, Calder, and Churchill Downs to name a handful.
The jockey’s room was full of action before, during, and after the race card. Bets of all varieties, pool, card games, and alcohol was the norm. Beeb fully immersed himself in the culture, and rare were the days he navigated himself home below the legal limit. This ensued for a couple decades, and the law of averages suggested that the flashing lights would eventually catch up to him. And they did, three times, in three different states. Less sophisticated databases then, combined with less punitive laws, may have helped Beeb out in the long run.
The great jockey Bill Shoemaker rode in 40,000+ races, incidentally he won his first race at Golden Gate Fields in Albany, California where I frequented. But it was driving under the influence that took him down as his Ford Bronco rolled over and plunged down an embankment in Southern California. This left him paralyzed from the neck down, and Shoemaker spent the rest of his life in a wheelchair. For BB, neither the scores of falls he suffered from riding the spirited thoroughbreds, nor his thousands of risky trips home, would instantly incapacitate him. But…
One day, out of nowhere, BB’s brain suffered a catastrophic event. The resulting injury left him unable to walk, and he himself became relegated to a wheelchair. Three years passed before a young doctor, (Doogie Houser like, as BB described him) suggested a shunt be implanted, and bingo, the road to recovery began. It was not easy learning to walk all over again, but Beeb persevered. He took the necessary steps to regain his driving privileges and totally abstains from alcohol. Currently he works part-time at the municipal golf course, and enjoys his time with his family including grandkids.
Oh, and did I mention table tennis. The Beeb’s got a decent game and moves as if he’s never had a setback. He’s ready to play every minute of our three hour time slot. I told him, ‘BB, you never sit down.’
‘Done enough of that,’ he replied.
