Giddy Up
I’ve always had a fondness for losers. Maybe because loser is a word you sometimes hear when it takes you six years and five schools to make it out of high school. I even flunked my learner’s permit test three times. Well, here’s a salute to a bigger loser: the lovable racehorse Zippy Chippy.
Good old Zip ran a hundred races and lost ‘em all. He was banned from a lot of racetracks because when the gun went off and the starting gate went up, Zippy didn’t move a muscle. He refused to run.
Zippy was a descendent of some of the greatest names in horse racing history: Bold Ruler, Secretariat, War Admiral, Man of War and Northern Dancer. He should have been the fastest horse of all time. A sure bet to win the Triple Crown. But Zippy was his own horse. Stubborn, playful and lazy. Told to run in one direction, he would head in the other. He stuck his tongue out at strangers. He’d trash his stall for fun. His favorite snack was Doritos and beer.
Whenever Zippy raced, he packed the grandstands. People came from all around to cheer another loss. He once ran against a hockey player in a 40-yard dash and Chippy lost that one too. Hey, nobody can remember who won the Kentucky Derby on any given year but they all remember Zippy Chippy—the horse who always lost. Last I heard, Zippy is on the Board of Directors at the Old Friends at Cabin Creek, a retirement center for racehorses in Greenfield, New York.
So tonight, grab a bag of Doritos and a can of beer and salute Zippy Chippy. He’s at the starting gate and he ain’t runnin’. Keep your dukes up.