The Punters and the Ponies

Culture update. We have just come out of Melbourne Cup Carnival week and I wanted to record some thoughts about what could be considered a combination of the Calgary Stampede, Grey Cup week, and the Toronto Film Festival/Fashion Week all rolled into one. Where do I begin?

You first notice it in the store fronts, TV ads and flyers in the paper. Like a huge back to school campaign, there are ads for Spring racing fashion and all of it has to do with what you wear to "the Cup" and its many parties. Ladies wear fitted, flowy, short dresses, with ridiculoulsy high heels and of course a very weird looking hat. Men wear suits, jazzy ties, bright shirts, and maybe a hat of some sort. Cup day/week/month is an excuse to shop and look good. Ironically, it is also an excuse to behave as a bit of drunk and much of the high fashion gets trashed as each race day inevitably ends up as a bit of a schmooze and booze fest.

First there was the Caulfield Cup, then Derby Day, the Melbourne Cup, then Oaks Day and Emirates Day. It's at least 3 weeks of horse racing over various weekends and weekdays and the city, at least a good portion of it, goes crazy. Some examples would include the full scale fist fight that broke out in one of the VIP bars one race day. Made the headlines. Or on Oaks Day the trains from the racetrack broke down forcing 100, 000 drunk and very well off punters to kick off their high heels and walk home. There was public outrage! An inquiry.The train company made a $100 000 donation to charity just to calm the frayed tempers of the Armani-set. There was also the headline a few weeks ago that due to the withering economy some of the major sponsors were planning to reduce the amount of money they spent on race day festivities. This was scandalous! Or one day I counted 31 total pages of the Sports section dedicated to horse racing. 31! It is the news story day after day.

The actual Cup day is the first Tuesday of November every year. It's a public holiday for Melburnians and so the kids were out of school. For weeks we had been wondering if we should take part in the festivities or not and people seemed to be of two minds. Some said definitely and others said watching a race or two on the tube would be enough. After some serious humming and hawing, we didn't do anything much. Testament to that was the fact that I was in the library writing an essay while the rest of Melbourne partied. Linton and the kids had lemonade and watched the race at the neighbours. We didn't so much as place a bet. But we could have!

There is literally a mini-casino on every other block in Melbourne. There are "sweeps" in every office. Everyone seems to have a buck on this filly or that "sure thing". As a direct result there are also a lot of public awareness campaigns for problem gamblers. I'm not sure they have quite drawn the dots between their love of the ponies, the number of gaming houses and the problems associated with both.

Even our house is filled with pictures of cup winning horses. It almost makes you feel that you should brush up on the sport so you can understand it - or at least speak the lingo. So I did. Well actually I found an article in one of the local papers that was trying to answer the same question I was asking: What is it with the punters and the ponies in this country?

In a recent op-ed piece in The Age newspaper, my new favourite, the writer talked about horse racing as the replacement for any type of religious zeal that Australians might harbour. That's quite a statement. He goes on to describe the experience of watching a race in Federation Square this way: "The thundering of the hooves made a metal hum that shimmied through the entire cavernous space...racecalling is a form of Australian jazz and that's what Greg Miles' call of the Schweppes Tonic 1000 was like, his voice galloping with monotonal ease, save for the occasional flourish at the end of a sentence. I didn't understand a word but enjoyed it immensely." Racecalling as Australian jazz? Now that's saying something.

In the conclusion of his article the writer wonders at the strange confluence that existed on a wonderfully historic day - November 5, 2008 - in countries half a world away. On one contintent Americans were making history by voting in Barack Obama as their next president and on this continent Australians were partying it up in style and celebration of the next great Cup winner - who won by half a nose. Unlike in the US, this horse was not the favourite. However, the passion that Melburnians dedicated to this winner and all those who have run before, was "Obamaesque" in its fervour.

Phar Lap is one of this country's most beloved heroes - man or beast. There is a stuffed version of him standing on regal display in the Melbourne Museum. In closing his article, the editorial writer quotes this poem as an explanation for the complete and total reverence Australians have for their horses: It is Australian innocence to love/The naturally excessive and be proud/Of a handsome chestnut gelding who ran fast.

If Barack Obama and Phar Lap can capture equal billing and importance, at least in one writer's eyes, then horse racing is truly a past time that either I don't understand or desperately need to "take up" tomorrow.