A Day at ACRC
Reader Chris Garrity visited Atlantic City Race Course last week and reports on a day at the once-thriving racetrack, which may close permanently after this year.
My day at ACRC was interesting. I found that my memories of the old place weren’t quite accurate — I think it was because I had never been to another racetrack at the time (and I had only been there once). My day was also sad in a way, though, because even though the facility looks pretty down-at-the-heels, the work it needs is all cosmetic — the structure looks fine, and with a little bit of restoration it could be actually be a beautiful venue for horse racing. Just about everything in the building, from the seats in the grandstand to the teller windows to the rails around the walking ring, is original (built in 1946), and with a fresh coat of paint it is easy to imagine walking through the place and feeling like you were back in its 1950s glory days.
I talked to a few seasoned veterans at railside on Friday, and the one thing they all agreed on was that the casinos were ACRC’s death knell. It’s not a new thought that other forms of gambling have hurt racing; it’s been said a thousand times before by a thousand different people. This got me thinking, though, and while it has no chance of happening, the casinos could actually save the place.
The Atlantic City gaming industry is facing increasing competition from other regional gambling outlets. The first were the Indian casinos in Delaware; since then West Virginia and Delaware have installed slots. And when slot machines are installed in Philadelphia, a mere 60 miles from Atlantic City’s boardwalk, it will represent the single biggest threat to AC’s regional gambling dominance.
In order to compete, Atlantic City’s casinos are going to have to do what their counterparts in Las Vegas have done: establish their city as not just a place to gamble, but as a destination. A punter can get a free rubber-chicken buffet at Dover Downs; to get him to go to America’s Favorite Playground, the casinos are going to have to offer shows, entertainment, and excitement — things not available in the dreary bowels of a slot parlor.
If Atlantic City is going to market its shows, its restaurants, and its beaches, why not its racetrack? There doesn’t have to be a nine month meeting, or even three months of racing like there used to be. A pair of big-purse, big-event racing festivals — say 10 days apiece, one in June or July and one in August or September (September is a beautiful month in Atlantic City) – would attract horses from all over the Mid-Atlantic, and from New England and the Midwest as well. The races could even, if positioned properly, be used as preps for the Breeders Cup. This would be a boon for the casinos, as it would attract crowds of people who would end up inside their gaming halls. Most important of all, though, it would mean that Atlantic City, if only for a short time, was indeed a destination, not just a place to gamble.
I imagined this pipe dream as I looked out over the infield, which was surprisingly well-maintained and exploding with spring greenery. The view from the grandstand was fine, I thought, and I imagined what it would be like when the horses were being led into the starting gate for a $500,000, 12-furlong grass stakes race, the sky nursery-rhyme blue and the swarming throngs eagerly anticipating the sound of the starting bell.
Back in reality, the sun poked through the dull gray sky, the horses started (they didn’t have a starting gate at Atlantic City on Friday, so they started races from a standing start, like Seabiscuit and War Admiral), and a five-year old named Charlie Whiskey won the nightcap. I didn’t have him. I filed out of the old place with the rest of the people. As I neared my car I looked back at the grandstand, and despite the broken windows and the peeling paint the place looked good. I thought of them tearing it down and putting in a bix-box store, and I turned away. I didn’t want to think about it. I walked the rest of the way and got in my car. I headed for the exit quietly, as though I were moving over ghosts.
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Related: Photos from ACRC’s meet (Thoroughbred Champions); “A.C. track’s fans fear it has run its course” (Philadelphia Inquirer)
