Part of this chauvinism was driven by the economics of racing. The winner of a Grade 1 stakes race such as the Santa Anita Derby, and especially the Kentucky Derby, increases the breeding price of the winning stallion by tens of thousands of dollars per mare. With a top stallion able to be bred 200 or more times per year at a fee sometimes exceeding $100,000 per breeding, many trainers and owners felt it was a waste to have a filly win such a race. She could produce only one foal per year verses a male who could produce up to 200 new runners per year.
Eugene Klein opened up to his wife about a specific concern: “Joyce, I never won a Super Bowl. Will I live to win a Derby?”
“Honey, I want you to lose a few pounds, and stop drinking. That would be a start.” Joyce Klein was concerned about her husband’s poor health and heart condition. She was also worried about who besides Gene could handle the businesses (and especially the costs) of running the large number of horses they now owned together. “I wanted you to sell the football team so you could relax and go to the races with me on the weekends. I never dreamed you would buy hundreds of racehorses…and your own private training facility. Who would buy 250 acres of the most expensive San Diego real estate and then put horses on it? I should have known…you will never slow down.”
“I play to win. You know that.”
“But what if you can’t run this? I don’t know how to run a horse farm. How many horses do you have? Tell me the truth, Gene.”
Klein paused. He knew that he had perhaps gone off the deep end into the horse business. With the cost of keeping a horse in training at $25,000 per year, he had not expected to get the bills he was now paying. He owned over 150 racehorses. They were not all in full training at the same time, but his training bills were over $300,000 per month, plus the real estate expenses on his Del Rayo Racing Stables farm, near his Rancho Santa Fe estate.
“We have like 100 horses,” Eugene said to Joyce. “Did you see the one I just named after the Raiders’ owner, Al Davis…Contempt? That’s worth the cost! Joyce...you’re not so good at saving money either I’ve noticed. How many people did you invite to the party last year in the back yard?”
“Five hundred.”
“Did that include the 16-piece full orchestra? Oh, what the hell…we can afford it!”
Joyce told him, “I think we should sell the ranch, and most of the horses. Gene, think about me, and the kids. What are we going to do with over 100 horses if you’re gone?”
“Let me think about it, Joyce. I don’t want you to be stressed if anything happens to me.”
For about six weeks, the relationship between Ava and Miami had been silent. She kept leaving voice mail on his home machine, and several messages through the receptionist at his office.
He didn’t answer but suspected that she wanted to explain.
They both belonged to the same health club, but he knew she could only work out after work and on weekends, so he played basketball on weekday mornings to avoid seeing her. The facts were that the relationship was only a few months old, and they had never said they were exclusive…but to him it had been exclusive…because after meeting her, he didn’t want to see anyone else.
Miami re-focused on his work; he was now calling on banks to learn about and purchase foreclosure properties. He had two big offers in on large buildings already and felt like he was turning a corner. He thought, Perhaps I won’t have to be lonely and broke. So, he decided to call her and act like nothing had happened. If she was involved with someone else, what could he do? Hell, it would be better to know if she was involved, and then move on, rather than just keep avoiding her. He knew he had never met a woman like Ava and didn’t want to shut her out of his life. He wasn’t ready to give up on the date they’d made before his trip to Las Vegas and her trip to San Francisco.
Their date was to watch Winning Colors run in the Santa Anita Derby. He decided to see if she still wanted to go to Santa Anita, and called her, agreeing to meet at Starbucks for coffee after work Wednesday.
He got there first, sat at a table, and waited for her entrance. She was wearing jeans with tennis shoes, and looked tired and thin. Her eyes were red. He didn’t get up to greet her.
She looked up at him and said, “Mark…I’ve been trying to talk with you for weeks. I’m so sorry for what happened, and the way it looks…it’s not that way….”
“Ava, we never agreed we were exclusive. You…we….”
“No…wait,” Ava interrupted him. Her eyes welled up with tears. She seemed to be having trouble getting a full breath. “I’m not seeing anyone. That night…I’m so sorry. I ran into an old boyfriend, I used to work with…and you were in Las Vegas having fun…. It just happened.” She looked down and said, “I broke it off that morning right after you called. I don’t care about him. I care about you.”
“I could see that….”
Ava reached out and touched his face. He pulled back and looked at her. She folded her hands in her lap. “I’d like to keep trying. You’re a different kind of man. I’ve never been with someone who is as much fun as you. Or, who has as much fun as you. Somehow…you just live…and find adventure. I want to be with you. Just you. Part of that. Please.” She
