Epiphany at the race track
Hustling up to enjoy a splendid fall day at the Keeneland race meet was ever so rewarding. Sun and pretty girls by the hundreds in lace and chiffon dresses. I don't get the smashed cowboy boots, but it beats the stripper attire I've seen in past meets.
Started out as a normal beautiful day, enjoyed tailgating with folks from all over the nation gushing about the weather, place, trees and ensuing gambling.
Once inside the gate and situated at my favorite spot in my favorite pink chair, I started to feel small. Real small.
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See, my husband stands 6 feet, 4 inches or something like that. But when we were making our way around the areas we love, I noticed something. He wasn't tall anymore.
There were some Big Ass Fans. I'm guessing they were 'Bama boys because I haven't seen that much red anyplace, and I know they were in town to teach our football team about big dudes. Having a wonderful time and totally innocuous, these giant guys perplexed me. How did they all get that way? And the more we moved about, the more of them I saw.
Then it hit me. These guys used to play 'Bama ball? These guys are dads of the 'Bama boys? These guys are alumni of 'Bama?
I'm really proud of Kentucky for the seven points they put up on the scoreboard. They didn't stand a chance. Just glancing around Keeneland on an absolutely magnificent fall race day, it was obvious: We need to grow bigger kids.