Skimming?

No. They did more than skim. They took it all.

That said, Del Mar Thoroughbred Club is one of the loveliest places in the world. To lose my money.

Seattle is lovely also. Maybe next time I'm there I'll trail $20 bills behind me to see if I can have an equally swell time.

In the Saratoga program the custom of elegant attire is mentioned. Ladies and gentlemen are urged to dress with class, to help uphold the dignity of the grand racetrack.

At Del Mar, they may as well print up a page advocating the legalization of marijuana. Yeah, it's laid-back there.

I got so laid-back (drug free) that I melted into my chair and forgot what the symbols in the Daily Racing Form stood for.

It's not like you needed a form to know about Skimming. They put his damn picture on the cover of the program. It was as if the Del Mar management was encouraging us to create a minus pool.

But no. I didn't want $ 2.10. I didn't even want 8-5 on the horse WHO HAD NEVER LOST AT DEL MAR. 8-5 on the horse WHO HAD WON THE SAN DIEGO HANDICAP AND THE PACIFIC CLASSIC LAST YEAR AND WHO HAD AGAIN WON THE SAN DIEGO THIS SUMMER.

Instead, I was into being mellow and passive. Here, sir, have my hard earned money and distribute it among the other patrons.

I chose a horse, Captain Steve, who had apparently had his speed confiscated by customs upon his return from Dubai.

Still, there was much to like about the whole experience.

It's all so civil at Del Mar. People were friendly in a way that I thought no longer existed having spent seven years driving with citizens who populate the state of Connecticut.

In the infield, unlike the unruly, drunken infields of Churchill on Derby day and Pimlico on any day, the infield at Del Mar could have carried on nicely without any adult supervision, never mind the snipers needed for the first two legs of the Triple Crown brought to you by Visa.

At Del Mar a playland for children was what passed for anarchy. They had swings, they had slides. They had one big huge slide.

Child: Look mom, no hands!

Me: (After Skimming's win) Look wife, no money!

Captain Steve rolled up towards the leaders on the far turn and my heart (if this is possible under such a crush of mellowness) began to pound. OK. It pounded once.

For it was at that point I realized Skimming had yet to take off his warmups. His lead pony was still jogging with him for all I know. Skimming had been running at this juncture only because of some sort of requirement that the horses take a lap around the track or something.

It was at this point that he actually exerted some effort.

Not much effort.

And once again he blew away the field.

All of this should have been so clearly seen.

And it was. The civility at Del Mar rivaled the perfect natural setting which rivaled the perfect state of mellow.

In the infield, at race time, the customers who'd set up umbrellas to shield themselves from the sun, would dutifully collapse their structures so as not to block anyone's view.

My group of miscreants seated in the clubhouse were schooled in civility earlier in the card when the people behind us admonished us about standing during the stretch run.

Didn't we know anything? We were to melt into our chairs. Be mellow. Be civil.

We stood up anyway. And in the Classic, it was my only way to see clearly what I hadn't noticed previously.

And suddenly it hit me. Just after Skimming's mellow romp, the fragrant ocean air rolled across the track. It reminded me of ... the ocean. It reminded me there are dead fish in the ocean.

But it was only temporary. The fish, mindful of the rules on civility and mellowness knew not to stand up or stand out. That or sea lions devoured them.

Win or lose the good feelings are what I left with. And I departed optimistic about future plays at Del Mar.

Time heals everything.

My pari-mutuel wounds were forgotten by the time I walked to my gate at the San Diego airport.

But as I walked to my gate Cigar's picture stared down at me on the wall of a corridor. The picture mocked me. Hadn't Cigar himself lost in the Classic?

For all I know he probably lost to Skimming. Or Skimming's lead pony. No, it was Dare And Go. I remember now.

I remember it was civil. The people there are always good. It's those damn horses who misbehave.