Why I hate horseracing...

I wanted to take my last post down, but that seemed dishonest. I feel like I helped to promote a murder by even mentioning the race. Alex, I love you, but I hate this sport.

Horses were killed in the last two races I've watched on TV. Great horses. Gorgeous horses. At least this filly didn't have to suffer for a year first.

Did I call them "athletes?" I go to the gym and see men and women who push themselves to the breaking point. Their will to excel is stronger than their instinct to quit when it hurts. I admire these athletes. They do amazing things that nobody bets any money on. I have never seen anyone ever whip one of them to perform until their bones broke.

Horses love to run. They do. But left out on the farm, how many of them run themselves to death? How many hundreds die on race tracks every year? Tracks without the Goodyear blimp and Tom Hammond to record the event?

If you want to see horses, come with me and we'll drive through the most beautiful farms in the world and watch horses run till the sun goes down.

Nobody betting on them.

Nobody whipping them.

Nobody driving them until their bones splinter from the strain or a misstep.

Secretariat could run like a god. But so could Carl Lewis. The difference was, Lewis knew the game and the rules. Dale Ernhardt loved to race as much as any horse. All Ruffian or Barbaro or Eight Belles knew was to keep running till someone told them they could stop.

Athletes choose. Horses can't.

I will watch another Derby when it features a bunch of millionaires in seersucker being chased for a mile and a quarter by the Thoroughbreds they love. I wonder how many of them would have to be killed while the crowd cheered for the survivors.

I love my Kentucky with all my heart. But God help me I hate horse racing.