View from the Roof
Years ago, many years ago, Dad would bring me and my siblings up on the roof to watch the last race of the day.
Standing atop the Press Box, I remember us walking up the narrow and rickety wooden steps that seem to have been here since before the track was built. It was usually hot, likely quite muggy, but the moment the Press Box door opened it all changed.
A cold rush of air would hit us all and for a moment we’d feel a respite from the heat.
The sounds of typewriter keys punched, the thought that these men and women are writing about the greatest game at the greatest venue for all the world to read. I couldn’t wait to read their take on the news of the day. I knew what mine was, but they saw it all from a different vantage point than I did.
I was anywhere from eight to 14 years old. They had far more experience than me and I trusted them to educate me. They never let me down.
We’d walk past the table with the NYRA press releases and copies of color paged Overnights, make a hard left up the ramp to head back out, right before we got to the betting window or food counter.
I guess even then Dad knew how drawn I was to both, so we kept walking.
Through the back door of the Box and back into the heat, we made an immediate right and walked up the steel steps to the fenced in area high above the most glorious racetrack ever built in North America.
What you’re seeing here was my view.
A better vantage point would be hard to find.
Of course, the way I see it, anywhere in Saratoga is a great place to see the races at Saratoga. What matters is being there.