I met a gambler the other night. He was going to plop down five-hundred dollars on Justify to win the Kentucky Derby. Gamblers are weird dudes. They're optimists. They're forever chasing a hunch.
This gambler pulled into the bar I was playing music at. It was about 1:30 in the morning when he came in. He was an older man. In his sixties. I respect people who go out at night. But it does strike me as odd at times when they come in late.
This man was different, no doubt. He had a big head, and I couldn't stop staring at it. He was a confident man. He was convinced that Justify was going to win. I thought he was on the right track. Justify is a great horse. But for some reason I told him Bolt D' Oro was going to win. I immediately regretted my words after saying them. Deep down I knew I was wrong, but it was early in the morning and I didn't feel like correcting myself. Instead, I grabbed my guitars and said good-night.
Justify did win the derby. I hope the man followed his instincts. I'd sure hate to be the reason why he lost five-hundred dollars.
