Readings: Veeck II
“The Racing Form is a mass of arcane figures, meaningless to the uninitiated but crammed full of information for the aficionado. To a greater or lesser degree, the regular horseplayer believes that somewhere in those figures lies the secret of success. Never mind that the variables in each race are endless; never mind that the horses below a certain class are so inconsistent as to turn past form into the chanciest of guides; never mind that racing luck is a factor which overhangs it all. That’s the lure of it. That’s the terrible grip it has over him. Luck itself is the most important sign of all, don’t you see? It is a sign delivered on a direct line from heaven, telling him whether he has been chosen to be one of the winners or doomed to be a perennial loser. For to a greater or lesser degree, the aficionado-loser believes — subconsciously, to be sure — that there is only one possible outcome to every race, and that he has only to search the figures deeply enough and read them wisely enough for them to give up their secret to him.” — From “Thirty Tons a Day,” by Bill Veeck
