The Los Alamitos $2 Million Futurity: Big Night of Quarter Horse Racing Produces $2 Million Handle

Vrrroom…Vrrroom…Vrrroom.

You knew the evening would be a humdinger when an equine speed demon named "Vrrroom"—the perfect name for a racing American Quarter Horse—sizzled to victory with Alex Bautista aboard, motoring 400 yards in 19.63 seconds.

Galloping out after the race, Bautista gazed toward the heavens, as if to say thank you.

The Quarter Horse racing gods gave plenty of signs…signs that Friday night, December 12, was going to be pretty magical at Los Alamitos Race Course—which, by the way, is just down the road from the real magic kingdom, Disneyland.

Who could predict a whopping handle of more than $2 million? The gamblers spoke with their wallets, "Recession? Economic downturn? Carpe diem, you fools!"

Ah, the moon was full—and, oddly enough, reported to be closer than ever to the Earth. You could see steam weirdly engulfing the racehorses´ bodies in the chilly night air. An eerie little fog crept inside the racetrack too.

The stage was set for Los Al´s season-ending marquee event: the Los Alamitos Two Million Futurity—ten of the nation´s most explosive two-year-old rockets competing for the largest purse ever offered at the Cypress, California, racetrack.

Heightening the drama was a Thoroughbred-like Pick-Six pot of almost $500,000, a huge sum for Quarter Horse racing—especially remarkable in a tough economy.

I watched the races at home. The grand significance of the evening wasn´t lost on the animated TVG crew (Mike Joyce, Dave Weaver, Les Onaka, and Chris Kotulak), all of whom brought their "A" games to the telecast and displayed their genuine passion for the sport of Quarter Horse racing—along with their considerable knowledge.

Befitting the special occasion, Joyce, Weaver, and Onaka were dressed to the nines. A row of flower pots with beautiful red blooms gave the set a warm Christmas glow.

New camera angles also produced unique shots that spiced up the broadcast. Close-ups of each analyst´s face created a more personal connection with them.

For the first time (at least in my memory) viewers could see the racehorses clomping from the paddock into the walking ring. And low-angle shots of them entering the paddock—with each breath creating an eerie misty shroud—made the show visually appealing.

Yet these innovative shots paled in comparison to the real racing action: breathtaking panoramas of the racehorses rattling the starting gate, lurching forward, kicking up the dirt, and exploding down the track—the purest demonstration of their sublime athleticism, awesome power, and fierce will to win.

With Ed Burgart´s magnificent voice masterfully narrating all of this heart-pounding action, I couldn´t help but re-fall in love with Quarter Horse racing—to me simply the purest, most dramatic form of equine competition.

My heart skipped a beat when the racehorses loaded for the night´s big race.

I stood up, then moved closer to the television. I´d handicapped the race and picked out a couple of long shots to root for. The ten two-year-olds were fairly evenly matched; not much ground separated the fastest qualifier from the slowest.

A great betting race.

Both of my horses broke well behind the field; I knew they were finished.

Suddenly the #5 horse, Tres Passes, caught my eye. Breaking alertly, he had a wide path in front of him and was beginning to bury the field.

On the outside, Foose and Fantastic Corona Jr. were gobbling up ground, chasing the leader. The camera angle made it difficult to see if they were actually gaining on Tres Passes.

"Go Eddie, go!" my wife yelled downstairs.

Near the finish line, Garcia glanced to his right. Where was Foose? Where was Fantastic Corona Jr?

Seconds later Garcia´s fist punched the air.

It was a special victory for two veteran grandmasters of the sport—the all-time winningest trainer in Quarter Horse racing history, Blane Schvaneveldt, and Los Alamitos´ all-time leading jockey, Eddie Garcia.