The Washington times., 1936-04-24
Darby Time
Nearing
Again
Bv KIRK MILLER
Times Sports Editor

Tunes sports Editor
It was just about daybreal
this morning, quite some hour
before these lines were written
that I was inwardly cussine
those damned bluejays or tree
frogs or whiffle birds or what
ever specimen starts chorteling
along about dawn to disturb
the slumber Of tax payers anc
tired bingo players.
Generally along about that time
I shift from my right to my left
ear, stretch my arms and legs
Sleepily and settle down to about
two good, solid hours of beauty
sleep. That is, I generally dc
when the bluejays let me, but this
morning they were calling back
ant forth out there in the poplars
and for some reason or other
waXed wakeful.
All, the Derby
I Icy there batting an eye in 8
half stupor, and as my yawnine
diminished and the mental hori
zon cleared, I fell to thinking that
thos birds reminded me nightly
of the way the feathered tribe
sings down around Louisville, KY.
where the calendar begins and
ends with the annual Kentucky
Derby in May.
Yes, sir, the first thing I knew
was sort of wishing I was down
yonder in the blue grass. I could
almost hear the nickering and the
whinneying of those thoroughbreds
quartered out there in Col. Matt
WINS tumbledoWn whitewashed
barns-anL those birds, by crackey
you'd have thought they were de
coy sent up here by the stout
colonel to sort of make you Derby
conscious.
Mindful Of Derby Day
Those birds were singing there
at 6 a. m. exactly like they sing in
Louisville along about 5 on Derby
afternoon, when the dainty pran-
GERS and stepping tween grand
stands and out on to the newly
narrowed turf.
If you've ever been in the coun-
try after a summer shower, you
have noticed how the robin and
titmouse twitter when the clouds
pass over and the sun Silhouettes
against the blue. That is the
time when all the creatures of the
air and the burghers Of the bough
set up their rollicking clatter.
This is true in any section, only
more so, it seems to me in Old
Kentucky, and perhaps I associate
the poSt-shower serenade Of the
bird family with Louisville, be-
cause about the only times I have
ever been there were on Derby
Day and it invariably rains then.
OF Kentucky Home
So the full, bright, cheering
notes of a bird at a. m, giving
rise to new hopes which the
young day might bring, always
take me back to or lucky Home
and the parade to the post at
Derby time.
That is when a fellow needs
hope, because a Derby is one of
those horse races where anything
can and does happen. Everything
in the race is trying and trying
hard. The turf's greatest honor
is at stake. If not in purse, Ger.
tainly in tradition.
The Preakness is an honored
and respected institution right
here in the nearby heart of Mary
land. The Belmont is gaining dig
nifty every year of it's renewal and
the American Derby at Chicago is
an hanoWed affair. But the Ken
lucky Derby seems to have a l'-tle
something that the others can't
claim.
Hard to Describe
I don't know exactly what it is
this difference between the Derby
and other great horse races.
can't describe it. The Derby just
seems to be the squire of them all,
rich in reveries. dignified, aristo-
cratic-authentic.
And they tell me that even this
far ahead of the May 2 classic
there isn't a reserve seat to be had,
either in the grandstand or club
house. Too, if you had a ticket to
the Derby a week from tomorrow,
you probably couldn't get place
to sleep in Louisville, for the town
stopped growing along about 1896
and on Derby Eve the streets are
just about as crowded as the lobby
on the night the Great Ziegfeld
opens a stay.
People go hundreds of miles to
see the Derby. They experience
aching dogs and sleepless nights
and endless hours of train travel
all for two minutes and some Sec
ondS of horse racing, but then. the
Kentucky Derby justifies anything
except, perhaps, those flickers
tweeting at 6 a. m.