I am cursed. Horribly and indelibly cursed. For those who don’t know, the Derby came to Portland this year. My very good friend from law school, Erica (aka Southern Spice), kindly agreed to leave Kentucky during the height to Derby madness and fly to Portland to show us Oregonians how things are done. She brought southern ham, derby pies, grits, and a mint julep recipe. Our only responsibility was to choose a horse.

And that is where the curse comes in. You see, I had my heart set on Repent. I thought there was some sort of cosmic humor on gambling on a horse whose name told you not to. I had my pick and was sticking with him. Until last week when his trainer announced he was injured in a race and had to pull out of the Derby due to a bone spur.

Undaunted, I returned to the listing. This time, I went with Buddha. I felt there was a similar spiritual connection here as well. So yesterday at dinner, Erica informed me that Buddha was favoring his right side in the morning and they had pulled him from the race as well. Yes, two days before the big start and my new favorite was out.

Now, I’m afraid to pick another. With my luck, they’ll stumble getting out of their stall and break a leg on the way to their postings. And everyone else won’t pick a horse until they hear who I’ve got for fear of having my curse effect them as well. I’m thinking I’ll just go with the longest shot horse and that way I won’t jinxes anyone else.

I guess my life as an off-track better has pretty much gone down the drain. Ah well, at least I’ll get to drink a mint julep.