How did we become captivated by this thrilling sport? Each of us has a unique narrative about how our passion developed and flourished over time. The TDN is excited to reach out to a range of prominent figures within the industry to gather their personal stories, revealing the journey of how they became enamored with and remained committed to the sport of horse racing.
On one memorable occasion, my mother and I took a train journey from St. Louis to the vibrant city of New Orleans to visit my father, who was serving in the Army at that time. Eagerly, I brought along a collection of Racing Forms I had amassed. It was during that train ride that my mother patiently guided me through the intricate art of reading the Racing Form, igniting a spark of curiosity in me that would last a lifetime.
Jerry Brown, Thoro-Graph
Growing up in the culturally rich Greenwich Village, which isn’t exactly known for its horse racing fervor, I found myself immersed in other sports. As a young boy, I devoured every segment of the sports pages—except for the racing section. While I could recite everyone’s batting averages for baseball, the world of horse racing was an enigma to me.
A neighbor of mine, a close friend named Steve Jones, introduced me to the allure of the racetrack, bringing me there three times. I was undeniably impressed by the vibrant atmosphere but remained an utter novice. One afternoon, I found myself sitting alone in the Blimpie Base, opposite our usual basketball court, a spot we frequented when we decided to skip school. To my surprise, I discovered a Racing Form sitting casually at a table by the window. I was engrossed in deciphering the complex speed ratings when a man walked in. At that moment, I was still in my teenage years while he appeared to be in his forties—an age gap that left me hesitant. He noticed my concentrated effort with the Racing Form and inquired whether I might be interested in a job within the horse racing realm. Living in the bustling Village during the ’70s, I initially misinterpreted his interest as a personal advance. Little did I know, it was Len Ragozin, a prominent figure in horse racing. Desperate to avoid my father’s ultimatum of finding employment, I reluctantly accepted a position under Ragozin.
My journey began as a clerk, and on my very first day, the banter swirling around between Ragozin and his eccentric assistant revealed to me that they possessed a wealth of knowledge far beyond the average handicapper. They operated on an entirely different level, which fascinated me.
At that time, the only system they used involved hand-written file cards to track data. The numbers themselves were meticulously color-coded based on distance, a detail I learned quickly. As part of my clerical duties, I had to retrieve cards for every horse once the race entries were released—a laborious task made even trickier by the absence of computers. I began to excel at betting under Ragozin’s mentorship. As he owned a small stable back then, I eventually transitioned into managing it, starting with three horses and a modest budget of $20,000. Remarkably, just four years later, we had climbed to third place in the nation for wins.
During those formative years, photocopies of our sheets were non-existent, and access was highly restricted—only those deemed worthy by Ragozin himself could use them. We often piled four or five of us into a car and carpooled to the track, sharing the sole copies of our critical sheets. Ragozin himself hailed from the game-playing world, surrounded by brilliant individuals who excelled in bridge, chess, and backgammon, so skilled that few dared to compete against them, ultimately leading to financial struggles for those players. Fascinatingly, in the inaugural international Scrabble tournament, five of the top ten competitors were from Ragozin’s office—an illustration of the sophisticated and intelligent culture surrounding our team, which often felt like a counter-culture relative to the broader community. The excitement wasn’t simply in placing winning bets; it was in our collective triumphs, a testament to our superior knowledge in an arena where most others floundered, and that felt incredibly rewarding and exhilarating.
My father often took an authoritarian approach, which perhaps contributed to my rebellious nature towards authority figures. The allure of becoming my own boss held great appeal; the freedom to forego a tie was liberating. Additionally, the fluidity in deciding my own schedule and dressing as I pleased invigorated my spirit. Racing represented all the things I craved—freedom, autonomy, and the power to carve my own path.
Ragozin and I, to put it delicately, had a tumultuous relationship. Our passionate arguments would escalate so dramatically that the office manager often resorted to locking herself in the restroom to escape the commotion. Ultimately, he crafted a scenario where I felt compelled to leave his operation. After taking a year for personal reflection, I launched my own business, stepping boldly into the competitive arena against him.
To share your own story of how you got hooked on racing, please reach out via email to [email protected].