The great Joe Palmer, one of turf writing's legendary pioneers, once wrote of closing week at Saratoga:
“Now residents of that quiet shaded town… return to their homes to count the tableware and to inspect the cigarette burns on the living-room rug. The light switch in the bathroom doesn’t work. Someone has evidently been running up the draperies. The garage has been approached on a hit-or-miss basis. The ornamental bowls that Aunt Eglantine sent last Christmas are in the refrigerator, one still partly filled with jelly. The house has, in a phrase, a lived-at atmosphere. On the other hand, there is money in the bank.”
It begins as the horse vans start rolling and the racegoers consider filling their suitcases once again. For now, on the final dark day of the season, we contemplate the week ahead and savor every thought of Saratoga.