'Lucinating

People gonna be hurting the next couple of days—plantar fasciitis flaring up, high ankle sprains, bad backs—and no, that ain’t from playing no March Madness, alright? Ain’t nobody out here tearing an ACL filling out a bracket. Nope. This right here is from folks damn near dislocating their thumbs trying to hammer in a wager fast as humanly possible ‘cause some horse with a name like a startup company just won a prep race. Y'all 'lucinating.

I’m talkin’ full-body injuries from sittin’ on the couch. You ever seen a man pull a hamstring reachin’ for his phone? It’s happening. Right now. Somewhere in America.

And it’s all ‘cause of this blind panic—this absolute spiritual emergency—to bet a horse the SECOND it wins somethin’ like the Louisiana Derby or the Jeff Ruby. Don’t matter how it won, don’t matter who it beat, don’t matter if the track was basically quicksand—these folks see a number flash and they’re like, “Welp, that’s my Derby pick, better mortgage my sense of reason.”

You got guys talkin’ ‘bout, “Did you SEE Fulleffort? Sliced through that field like a hot knife through gas station butter. That’s a Derby horse.” No it ain’t, Randy. That’s a horse that ran fast one time in March. Calm down.

Or this one—this one’s my favorite—“Emerging Market was wide the whole trip, had a 21-1 longshot leanin’ on him, still finished strong. Churchill Downs? That’s basically bumper cars, he’s BUILT for it.” BUILT for it? What is he, a Ford F-150? It’s a horse, man, not a demolition derby specialist.

"But he ran 4th and ran against the bias, man, he gonna be a big price..." but Tex "he's was doing the moonwalk as good as Michael at the eighth pole, the only bias there is the one keeping you from cashing tickets, man"

Meanwhile, poor Paladin’s “legacy” done took a hit like it owes money. Folks already actin’ like he needs a genie and three wishes just to hit the board. Why? Did you see Chip Honcho? Lord have mercy—that horse fell apart in the stretch like a lawn chair at a family reunion. Just—collapse. Wheels gone. Spirit left the chat.

And then people start gettin’ historical with it—“Well this reminds me of Track Phantom a couple years ago…” Yeah? It reminds me of y’all doin’ way too much. Every single prep race gets treated like it’s carved into Mount Rushmore of horse racing takes.

The level of overanalyzing? Astronomical. NASA couldn’t track it.

I got one word for all of it: blah.

This 2026 version of the Kentucky Derby? At BEST is mediocre at this time. I’m talkin’ lukewarm chili at a church potluck. Ain’t nobody stood head and shoulders above the rest—hell, ain’t nobody even stood up straight. It’s just a whole field of “well… maybe?” and “I guess we’ll see.”

I did say at this time, right, Tex?

And we STILL got preps left—Keeneland, Arkansas, California, New York—just a nationwide tour of folks hopin’ their horse accidentally becomes great on the way to the airport.

But here’s the thing: somebody gotta take the bull by the horns, right? At some point, you gotta decide, “This is my horse, this is the plan,” and live with it. ‘Cause every decision you make right now? That’s gonna come back around on the first Saturday in May like karma with a stopwatch.

But nah—connections, bless their hearts, they start diggin’ through history like it’s the Dead Sea Scrolls.

“Y’all know ain’t been a Derby winner that won the Tampa Bay Derby in his last race?”“Well damn, Tex—we gotta run him one more time!”

WHY? Why do we gotta do that? Horses ain’t iPhones, they don’t all update the same! Just ‘cause it didn’t work for some horse named Cornbread McGee back in 2007 don’t mean your horse needs to go out there and run another race just to satisfy a trivia stat.

Same folks do this EVERY year, then act shocked—SHOCKED—when their horse don’t make it to the fall. Talkin’ ‘bout, “Man, what happened?”I’ll tell you what happened—you ran the wheels off him chasin’ patterns like you was huntin’ Bigfoot.

Decisions have consequences. I know that’s controversial take these days, but it’s true. You go to the well one too many times, that well gonna dry up—or worse, it’s gonna collapse on top of you.

Then Derby week rolls around, and now you wanna show off. “Let’s get us one of them flashy black-type works.” Oh yeah, real smart—crank him up ONE more time, right before the biggest race of his life. That’ll end well. Surely, we do not jest.

Next thing you know, your horse is lookin’ at you like, “Buddy, I done gave you everything I got back in March, now look at me, I am A greyhound”

Be careful what y’all wish for. ‘Cause sometimes what you’re wishin’ for is just one more good effort… and that’s the one you ain’t gonna have left when it counts.

blah. y'all lucinating