Seabiscuit in Motion
I watched the American Experience episode on Seabiscuit last night (we Tivo'ed it, which accounts for the 1 day lag). For me, the book was a bit too long, but the TV program left me wanting more (perhaps another 30 minutes or so?). I'm glad they left out some of the (what I thought were) extraneous details, such as Charles Howard's beginnings in San Francisco and the shitpile and brothel in Tijuana, but I wanted more on how Seabiscuit was trained, ridden, and raced. I think for Al it was perfect, because he filled in some of the gaps with info he remembered me reading/paraphrasing to him from the book (for example, when he watched the footage of the match race with War Admiral, he said, "Oh, is that the homemade bell you were telling me about?") without having to have slogged through all the book's deep background.
Having said that, the broadcast was a great companion to the book, and is worth watching for the commentary by Norah Christianson (daughter of jockey Red Pollard) and for the still photos and film footage of Seabiscuit and his entourage. As to the former, I have no idea why Christianson was so compelling, but she's what stuck with me after the fact. Perhaps it was the emotion with which she related her parts of the story. Regarding the visuals, for all the extra info that the book had, what I missed most was more photos, and the documentary (of course) serves them up. I remembered Meg using the phrase "such a Seabiscuit look!" in one of her blog entries, but what struck me wasn't so much the expressions of the horse as the expressions of the jockey. You can tell Red Pollard has a stretchy, twinkle-in-the-eye face from the few photos in the book, but you really get a sense of the guy when you see him moving.
As a side note, in between reading the book and watching American Experience, Al and I went to the track this weekend. I spent an entire spring at Golden Gate Fields during a personal depression a few years back, but I'd only been to Bay Meadows once, for a company picnic in the infield. The place took on more significance when we realized how long it had been around, and that Seabiscuit had raced there many years ago. I had suspected that Tanforan had once been a racetrack based on the racehorses on its signage, but I didn't know for sure until I read Seabiscuit. Neither of us would have guessed that Bay Meadows and Tanforan both existed at the same time and had such illustrious histories. This connection to the past made spending a Sunday at Bay Meadows very appealing, no depression required.
Anyway, we had a lovely day watching the horses run and attempting to pick the winners. I tend to go for the exotic bets, so while I occasionally guessed right (getting two out of three horses for a Trifecta in one race, and one half of a Quinella in a couple others), I didn't win any money. Al, being a hedger, won a few times by betting on a horse to place or show. The nice thing about betting on horses is that you don't get that icky feeling you do when you lose money in a casino. The horses are so beautiful and powerful and cool, and the outdoor track is so completely the opposite of the cavelike, smoke-choked casinos that you can't but feel happy—even when you've left $50 behind.