Some friends say the Travers Stakes horse race is one big party – 30,000 tastefully drunk people, they predict. So, some Old Milwaukee and I are heading up to the Saratoga Race Track Saturday to find out what the big fuss is all about. Armed with class, good hair and “A Dummies Guide to Playing Polo,” fitting-in with the upper-crusts who follow “the sport of kings” shouldn’t be a problem. And just to make sure they don’t confuse me – or my libations – with some low-life, I wrote “Big Mike’s” in blood on the top of my cooler.

The whole thing sounds like fun. But honestly, I’ve always wanted to know; what makes horse racing so special? Special enough to attract 30,000 people to Saratoga, or 100,000 people to the Kentucky Derby, anyway?

I always figured the brave little kindergartners who pilot the majestic beasts are what drew the big crowds.

– “They’re not kindergartners. They’re professional jockeys – fully grown adults that are just really small,” explained a friend who tried to fill me in.

“No way! How do they get them to talk like children?”

– “Helium.”