Regular readers of this column have no doubt noticed a trend developing over the past couple weeks. In “The Horseplayer’s Axis of Evil” and “The Line, or Balance is not just a three year old filly,” I have stressed the philosophical and emotional side of handicapping. This week, I’m introducing a new theme in the handicapping life. It’s the first installment in an occasional series called “Things Horseplayers Do That Piss Me Off.” To begin, I’d like to first take you to a location that occupies a special place in my involvement with horse racing.

A few years back, I spent more than a fair share of afternoons in an entertainment complex OTB in Denver known as Red n’ Jerry’s. And there’s no better way to say it: I love Red n’ Jerry’s. It is where began to explore the depths of this game, and the place where I cashed my first triple digit winner. Not only did they have good food, and a souped-up Ms. PacMan game (those who play the arcade version know what I mean), but I watched many a great horse there. It was far superior to the storefront OTB’s that I was left with after a move to Manhattan. But, as I think back to my time at Red & Jerry’s, one not so pleasant memory stands out.

On a Thursday afternoon like any other, I decided to take a bit of time to escape with the horses. As I took my usual table -- good light for ‘capping, views of multiple big screens, and in the section with the sexy waitress -- I noticed what best could be described as a grizzled old man sitting at the table next to me. He had skin that looked like he had weathered one storm too many and a hard frown that would have sent the neighborhood kids running for cover -- at least in my neighborhood. But, ultimately, it was not his appearance that captured my attention.

The old man had this low, raspy voice that suggested that the pack of cigarettes in his pocket was not his first. And, I remember quite clearly the first time he used it. As his horse toiled to make a move, he kept repeating, “C’mon, you piece of shit...C’mon you piece of shit,” again and again and again. At first, I gave ol’ crusty the benefit of the doubt, thinking that maybe the horse had earned the less-than-respectful moniker through a record of disappointment to the bettor. Yet, in the second race, his insults continued for another horse. And, onward the day went, the man chastising each horse he had “blessed” with his support. By the fifth race, I was completely disgusted by the old man’s disrespect and its toxic effect on the atmosphere. Forsaking my chance at flirting with the hot waitress, I moved to another part of the complex, shaking my head as I left.

Unfortunately, I have seen this behavior again and again at tracks and OTB’s throughout the country, and I have always had the same reaction.

I’ve often wondered why this crude disrespect to horses bothers me so much. Independent of racing, I’d never be described by friends as a horse lover, and the suburban Cleveland home of my youth did not present much opportunity for horse keeping. And, because of Denver’s lack of big time racing, most of my early experience with playing the horses came through watching TV monitors and engaging in data analysis in the racing form. Yet despite my lack of tangible experience with horses, these comments anger something deep within me.

Horseplayers – including myself -- occasionally forget that horses exist independent of racing and are way more than just a collection of numbers. I often remind myself that these are living creatures that deserve respect for this fact alone. They do just fine in the wild, where they have their own behaviors, rituals, and survival techniques. And, honestly, I wouldn’t have minded watching a thoroughbred kick that old man in the mouth and show him the true identity of the piece of shit.

But, outside of the fact that we are disrespecting a sentient animal, they are two more reasons why disrespect towards a horse angers me. The first, and lesser, reason is that viewing a horse as a mechanical object is devastating towards a handicapper’s bottom line. One key to successful handicapping is understanding that horses are living creatures with a tremendous amount of volatility in performance. However, the second, and much more important reason, why disrespect towards the horse pisses me off is that it confirms the stereotype that horseplayers are simply gamblers, nothing more and nothing less. These people view horses solely as inanimate objects, such as cards or lotto balls, and their disregard of the animal gives the true horseplayer -- the person who appreciates the beauty of the sport and greatness of the animal -- a bad name. All and all, I’d rather these people just went to the Greyhound terminal and started betting on bus arrivals, instead of poisoning the races and the reputation of horseplayers everywhere with their disrespect of the horses.

You can contact Seth at: sdabrams@gmail.com