Crowds descend on Louisville for the Kentucky Derby, writes Peter Cunningham
ON THE FIRST Saturday in May the greatest two minutes in sport takes place at Churchill Downs on the banks of the River Ohio. On that day, in Louisville, the City at the Falls, the Kentucky Derby is run. They call it the Run for Roses, after the garland of red roses awarded to the winning horse.
Kentucky is Bluegrass Country, home to bourbon, tobacco and beautiful women. Whereas Epsom Downs consists of rolling grassy hills, Churchill Downs is an oval dirt track on the corner of Louisville's Central Avenue and Fourth Street.
However, much that is good and remarkable about the US combine on Derby Day at Churchill Downs, where 150,000 people gather to roar home a bunch of horses that many of them have never heard of before. It's like seeing an otherwise impeccably behaved southern parson on a bodice- ripping one-day bender.
For Derby Day they roll into Louisville on chartered buses from as far away as Canada, on trains from Pittsburgh and Chicago and in private jets that make the sky above Louisville look as if it's alive with the swallows returning to Capistrano.
By 11am, with the sun beating down, throngs of girls in summer dresses and lads in sharp suits are in the enclosures, knocking back mint juleps, the traditional drink of the old Kentucky home, made of bourbon, fresh sprigs of mint, powdered sugar and a dash of water, served with a straw and shaved ice.
Up in the clubhouse section of the six-storey stands, the face value of a ticket is $600 (€390), but scalpers report getting five times that amount.
The build-up on a multiple race programme begins at noon. Then, about an hour and a half before Derby post time, which is usually around 5pm, an almost medieval procession of Derby runners' owners and their hangers-on make their way down from the stands, on to the hallowed straight of red-tinged sand. They proceed around the clubhouse turn through a tunnel of noise, as the crowds in the stands scream their support and the partying thousands in the outfield howl like dying beasts.
At the top of the back straight the Derby runners emerge from the barns, one by one. It's carnival par excellence.
From the moment the gates fly open, and the 20 or more horses seem to hover in mid air, noise is everything. It's a white sound: impenetrable and scalp tightening. Then the horses are hurtling for position at the clubhouse turn in a charge so intense that six stories up you can feel your stomach suck in.
This is competition at its best. This is a contest between iron men riding the United States' most beautiful horses in their third year of life.
The runners tilt into the first bend on the back straight and then funnel out. The fact is, it's hard to know where your horse is. Big men in $10,000 mohair suits are screaming like baboons. The public-address system is out there somewhere, in the background. Only those at home watching television know for sure what's happening.
What's going on is that the cut-throat early pace has favoured the cool-headed colts, the smooth dudes that have waited until all the hot bloods have been seen off; now these runners are coming through and waiting for the bend into the home straight to make their killing move.
This is the moment of truth, not just for the horses but for the dozens who worked to get them here; and it's the moment of truth, too, for the girls with the mint juleps, because, although most of them will weep in vain, a few will pocket a brickload of money and go home tonight in white stretch limousines.
A clutch of colts remain as contenders. As the ground to the winning post shrinks alarmingly, an interlude of what seems to be non-noise takes over. You look around and see veins like hosepipes in the necks of rich men and glamorous women, and you understand, if you never did before, how fundamental for survival adrenalin is. When the sound comes back on, the race is over. Strangers embrace. The Run for the Roses has been run.
Go there
No Kentucky Derby packages are on offer in Ireland; nor are there direct flights from Ireland to Louisville International Airport. Flights from Dublin involve at least one stopover. Going by US Airways (via Philadelphia), American Airlines (via Chicago) and Delta Airlines (via Atlanta) are among the options available. Return flights start at about €630 a person.
An alternative is to arrange your own connection by flying to a major US airport and travelling on from there. Aer Lingus flies from Dublin and Shannon to O'Hare International Airport, in Chicago. Flights from there to Louisville take about an hour. Flights from Washington DC take take an hour and a half; flights from New York two hours; and flights from Dallas two and a half hours.
British Airways flies to Louisville from London Heathrow via Chicago; flights cost from about €800 return.
Churchill Downs essentials
General admission to the racecourse for the derby costs just $2 for adults and $1 for seniors; it's free for children under 12.
Galt House Hotel & Suites (www.galthouse.com) is the official hotel of Churchill Downs, but its three-night Kentucky Derby package (May 1st-3rd) costs €2,000-€2,500. For more accommodation options, check out Kentucky Department of Tourism (www.kentuckytourism.com).
The Go To Louisville website (www.gotolouisville. com) has wide-ranging information.