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[billie shears via Derby]

Frenchy Schwartz
      The first of my twenty consecutive horse racing summers at Saratoga,
in upstate New York, ended with Ruffian's Spinaway Stakes win on Friday
and Foolish Pleasure's Hopeful Stakes win on Saturday.  Yet, it was the
warmth exhibited by the people of Saratoga, the spring waters, the
trees, the pizza, the sweet corn, the Hand melons, the Philly Orchestra,
ascending the creaky wooden clubhouse stairs days before the race meet
is to open to see that hedged grass course; that keep me heading back.
For a gambler, horse racing is a hard game to find warmth.

      Several racing summers later, I stood between  'Apples' Taver and
Grandstand Jack looking in on Ancient Title, who was being saddled by
Trainer Keith Stucki under the trees in the Saratoga paddock. It was one
of the few times that Grandstand Jack had left his seat in the
grandstand to visit the paddock for 'Apples' worked as Grandstand Jack's
paddock leg man and 'Apples' would walk to Jack's seat at the end of the
grandstand after he inspected the legs of the horses being saddled under
the trees and confer with Jack. Later, I learned that a big bet by
Grandstand Jack was brewing in the Whitney Stakes, so he wanted to get
the paddock inspection out of the way and keep 'Apples' out of his area in
the grandstand because 'Apples' talked constantly, and it is hard to
tumble all the factors of placing a bet into a line while someone is
talking.

      Now at this moment in horse racing, West Coast horses were not highly
regarded by the New York racing establishment. Thus, Ancient Title, who
had raced solely on the California circuit, was lying around 9-2 in the
odds as the horses entered the paddock. Quite high odds for the
heavyweight in the Whitney Stakes, who had shipped in early enough to
work six furlongs at the Spa as reported in the DRF'S Whitney advance on
Saturday, Aug 2, 1975, where Head DRF'S Clocker 'Frenchy' Schwartz's was
quoted as saying about Ancient Title's 6f workout in 1:12 1/5, "I was
especially impressed by the horse's action. He has a smooth, rhythmic
way   of going, which probably is the reason he is such a fine weight
carrier.  Most horses with poor action are poor weight carriers."

      I knew Grandstand Jack was real cozy to DRF'S Head Clocker  'Frenchy'
Schwartz's views on Ancient Title and other horse's workouts, since
Clocker Schwartz rented an apartment for the Saratoga racing season atop
a steak house on Union Avenue across the street from the track, while
Jack rented a room next door at a boarding house.  Jack treated Schwartz
to dinners at the steak house. Nothing loosens an older clocker like
someone buying him some beverage and a steak.  'Apples' Taver's bellowed
to Grandstand Jack that  "Ancient Title, being a West Coaster, looked
uncomfortable in the Saratoga heat".  Ancient Title was wet and washy
prancing the circular path around his saddling trees. Now I countered
that three earlier winners on that days card had left for the post
parade wet. It can get hot and humid in the Saratoga summer. Grandstand
Jack munched on his cigar stub, spat, and headed for his gray seat at
the end of the grandstand so he could contemplate all this while seated
and peering through his binoculars, at the runners for the Whitney
Stakes, as they wheeled their taut buttocks around and slowly started to
gallop away from him when the columned post parade broke back towards
the finish line.

      Grandstand Jack never liked anyone seated to his right. He keep that
seat empty by placing his overcoat, binocular case, or racing form
there. He sat at the end of the grandstand at every track he attended,
well attired, he wouldn't keenly watch a race through his binoculars
until the field was past the quarter pole at the top of the stretch,
headed for the finish line. Then he would shift right in his seat and
pick up his binoculars to watch the back of the pack steaming to and
past the finish line.

          Jack maintained that winning at the races is like shopping
for value in a clothing store.  One had to know how to pick out a
garment with a good label like 'BROOKS BROTHERS', and then get it at a
fair price. Thus, he would often recommend a wager on a horse that had
finished at or near the rear in his last race:  ensuring good value. He
also steadfastly preached that they " would do anything to get a price"
if anyone ever question Jack's betting confidence in a horse whose
running lines were dismal. I think of  'Grandstand Jack's'influence on
me anytime I bet on a horse that goes from finishing last to finishing
first, the hardest handicapping movement to do with confidence.

    Ancient Title was bet down hard in the final click, slipping two
pegs lower in the odds pay table and won. Now, Grandstand Jack dined
with DRF'S Head Clocker' Frenchy' Schwartz at the steak house across
Union Avenue that Whitney Stakes evening.  'Apples' and I dined   in the
Italian section of town at a restaurant that had just opened for the
racing season.  Sitting under a white thatched grape harbor behind
someone's home, one could smell and see food being prepared by looking
through the back screen door of the house into the kitchen of the
Italian ladies preparing the meals. The eggplant was stacked like
pancakes and the best I've every eaten. . 'Apples' told me he was going to
give me some advice just in case I needed it someday. This was " Only
tell a gambler what you know " You see, as a clocker you can get asked
to take a stance on numerous propositions by a keyed up gambler.
'Apples' told me it is better to walk away than try to answer every
question. Only advise a move when you're sure. Otherwise keep your mouth
shut".

     This proved good advice when I found myself clocking and
occasionally steering  'Primo' in the Clubhouse box seat section at
Hollywood Park in California. Every so often, 'Primo' couldn't wait
until I felt strongly about advising a wager.  Rather, I would be seated
in the front row of Primo's box. The scent of Primo's cigar would
strengthen as he leaned forward. Primo's questions would bounce off my
back. I would be pelted with probing inquires concerning the horse's
workouts in each race  ("Did you see this half mile work?  What about
this short blowout two days before the race? So who do you like here"?)
and when the questions  started to increase  dramatically with each
race, I then knew Primo's steady diet of betting heavily on horse racing
in the  afternoon and picking the fillies and sports at night was
running sour. He'd need then a Gorilla biscuit to calm him down.  So I
would wait, under steady urging, until a horse came sauntering onto the
track in the post parade and I could visualize the scintillating finish
of his last workout  (which would have had to occur 2 to 7 mornings past
and thus supersede a hundred selected workouts that had been viewed,
timed and stored internally by me). Then I would move one chair back in
the four-seat box and tell 'PRIMO' I'd liked this horse's last workout.
Somehow, he always had enough ammunition left from a downturn in betting
the horses all day, and women and sports in the evening, that the odds
board would wink downward on the horse's number I'd advise a wager on
shortly after "PRIMO" left his seat in the box section to bet.

       The next Saratoga racing day, Monday, I was standing under the trees
when Grandstand Jack visited again, telling me he did good Whitney
Stakes Saturday. He handed me a Lemania stopwatch and told me to go see
'Frenchy' Schwartz in the press box the next morning about becoming a
clocker. That next morning, I nervously mounted the stairs to the press
box door.  I saw Schwartz sitting not in the press box, but instead
outside on the graded steel platform that was the top of the press box
fire escape.  I knocked because the door was locked. He looked, but then
waved me away.  So an hour before first post that day, I visited with
Grandstand Jack in a rocking chair on the porch of his boarding house
and he promised that he would straighten things out over dinner that
night with  'Frenchy' Schwartz. So back up the stairs I went early in
the next morning and I landed in the press box chair closest to the fire
escape perch where head DRF'S clocker 'Frenchy' Schwartz sat and
clocked.

`     One of the perks of the press box is a complimentary fresh
Daily Racing Form lying on the counter in front of everybody's seat when
you enter in the morning.  Several days later I had my first serious
interaction with 'Frenchy' when near the end of the morning workout
session (5:30 a.m. to 10:00 a.m.)  there was a lull in the workout
activity and I stopped scanning the track below for a horse getting
ready to break off at a pole and work and started reading the Daily
Racing form, instead.  'Frenchy's' walking cane slammed down on the
counter in front of me and he yelled "Son, keep your eyes on the track
at all times"

       Otherwise he would just sit out on his perch and famous trainers
on their ponies would come beneath him on the racetrack and request that
he clock their stake horses so he would do that then shout over me to
the tab writer 'I got Woody's horses a half in 47'. The tab writer,
responsible for keeping his head down and taking notes while clockers
were shouting the names and times of horses they had just clocked
towards him, would ask sheepishly "Mr.. Schwartz's what was the name of
Woody's horse that you clocked a half in 47?" and  'Frenchy'Schwartz's
would yell back; "It was the Big Horse in Woody's barn." And that was
that.

       Another time that summer, I clocked a horse stepping quickly for
six furlongs. Nobody knew the horse's name or trainer because the horse
was adorned with an exercise rider, saddle towel and rigging unfamiliar
to the New York clocking crew.   A trainer from Delaware was than
spotted on his pony to the far right of the press box at the entrance to
the paddock, looking at his stopwatch after the rapid six-furlong move.
The NYRA'S appointed clocker said, "I'll go down and get the name from
the trainer".

         Oh boy! I thought I liked the move and the NYRA'S appointed
clocker thought enough of the move to make a quick long dash down the
stairs to ground level to get the name of the horse that just worked.
I'll put that horse from Delaware in the selected bold faced highlighted
workouts. Ten minutes later, when he returned to the press box, I asked
what was the name of the horse from Delaware I had just clocked working
a sparkling six furlongs. He said he would tell me later in the morning.
Being green, I asked later in the morning. He, realizing that I was
green, then told me he would tell me the next day. 'Frenchy' Schwartz
just sat outside.

     Most of the clockers in the crew that summer at Saratoga had
betting clients, so when it came time at the end of the mornings to
determine which horses' workouts would get a dark highlighted written
mention below that day's workout tab which would appear in the DRF, I
was given the honor (despite being green) since no one wanted to give
the public what they felt were workouts worth selling.

      When I asked about continuing with the crew downstate at Belmont,
'Frenchy' Schwartz startled me when he said, "I want the next clocker I
start to have had a shank in his hands. (This translated to leaving the
press box to work on the backside of the racetrack as either a horse's
hotwalk or groom.)

     On the final morning that Saratoga summer, one young clocker who
had fattened his betting client the previous racing afternoon was
admiring my new Lemania stopwatch (They didn't make inexpensive
electronic watches then and a new Lemania cost $200.00) He told me that
with my stopwatch, I could go to any track in the country and make money
clocking. Then someone bellowed from outside: "Yeah, You can sell the
stopwatch."

www.clockerbob.com<http://www.clockerbob.com>
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