You may have watched Saturday’s Kentucky Derby, the race of three-year-old horses at Churchill Downs in Louisville Kentucky, and don’t know how to pronounce the winner’s name.
If I can find a TV screen, I watch the Kentucky Derby. And usually I shed a tear when the band plays Stephen F. Foster’s “My Old Kentucky Home” while the horses parade to the starting gate.
My mother often told me she lived in Bardstown. Broke an arm climbing trees that surrounded Foster’s Old Kentucky Home.
This year I attended a Derby party where the ladies wore fancy hats, fancy clothes, and mint juleps were served. No daughters, I didn’t indulge. You could put five dollars in the pool and bet on your favorite. Winner took all. Son Kelson and I couldn’t resist. Even though we didn’t have a favorite.
That’s when we looked through the list of horses. We saw “Mage” and we chose to pronounce the horse’s name as “Madge.” She was my favored cousin. Madge had also treated Kelson royally on many occasions.
Hope you don’t have to read this blog to know that Mage, with odds 16 to 1, came off the rail then passed the leaders and won the Kentucky Derby.
Son and I split the $100 that “Madge” won for us.
