The 2002 Kentucky Derby will be run in little more than a week.
This is not good news for anybody who had Monarchos in print last year because it means that your reign as a handicapping brain is over and done with and now you have to do it all over again.
So let's you and I sit down and start thinking about a winner for that popular race that goes the first Saturday in May.
One year ago I had Monarchos right here in print and just finished spending the money the day before yesterday.
The reason why the Derby winner paid so much last time was because few of the experts knew what they were talking about.
The chief lesson to be learned from last year's windfall was a 165 Beyer in a four-horse field probably means nothing.
Lower Beyers in full fields, that was just the ticket in 2001.
Beyer, Bayer, sometimes one leads to another.
As we begin to accumulate horses for this Derby, here is one generic-type rule that I would be pleased if you would consider, as it has proved solid down through the years: Let's think seriously about not wager on something that would be occurring for the first time.
As concerns this Derby, that would have to do with unique training and travel plans.
It used to be that an invader from the desert meant an entry was arriving by van from Arizona. Now it's an air-lift from Saudi Arabia.
If a horse uses as Kentucky Derby preps an 880-yard race on the grass in York, England, or a marathon in the middle of the night in Dubai, and then beats me in Louisville, I will simply hand over the money.
Travel is a trouble line waiting to happen.
When last I visited England, I didn't know where I was or what I was doing until the seventh day, then it was time to come home and recover once more.
Granted, horses are tougher than I am, if not smarter in their own way.
But if you want to drop in from halfway around the world on a one-time basis, here's my money, come and get it.
On a smaller but still potentially profitable scale, here's an edge that goes for the begging around many barns.
Get a list of the horses that are brought by van to the track the day of their races, and compare the success rate to the entries stabled on the site.
Residents are considerably more successful.
Having helped a friend move his thoroughbred from his farm to the races several times, I handicap by the following premise: Any travel is bad travel.
But he main question we have to resolve has to do with listening.
Do we listen to the experts?
What could an expert know that you and I don't know?
Barn stuff, mostly, so-called inside information.
This horse limped.
That trainer is downcast.
Rumors don't pick winners.
Rumors can identify a loser on rare occasions.
I am a very bad listener at the horse races. I hear everything and am prone toward believing most of it, no matter the source.
I once bet a $20 Exacta on advice from a man who spoke no English.
What I hear at the track usually costs me plenty.
Last weekend I wore headphones to the races and put on classical music and didn't listen to a single tip or rumor and won some money.
It was a very peaceful experience.
People kept trying to talk to me. First, I would shake my head no and point to the headphones. Later in the afternoon, I simply ignored anybody wishing to talk. Hearing only high-quality music at the races was both relaxing and inspiring.
So in handicapping this Debry, we listen to everything the experts have to say, or we listen to nothing.
One common pearl of wisdom from our experts was that although Came Home might be winning, he's running far too slowly to be considered a great horse.
Opinions like this changes numbers on the tote board.
So our opening Derby strategy is clear.
We listen to everything and prepare to go another way.