I'll have you know that I once made a $20 Exacta box wager that was based on the suggestion of a man who had just borrowed $15 from me for cab fare home. Moreover, if I added up monies won and lost inspired by what I've heard at the races, I would probably move from horses to needlepoint.

It's a racetrack fantasy that sometimes people hear things of value.

Another fantasy is that the pretty women you meet at the races could quit drinking whiskey anytime they choose.

Another is that one day you'll be on the right side of an Objection.

Another is you'll get a halfway decent ride from a bad jockey.

Another is that The Catch of the Week will be tender.

What you hear the most at the horse races manifests itself in two forms, the first being inside information. What is inside information, anyway, a fix? You wouldn't think anybody would be eager to pass along that sort of information because it could result in jail time.

Most of the inside information that I have heard at the races has to do with a tip from an owner or a trainer. Owners and trainers are among the worst handicappers anywhere unless their horses win. Betting on your own horse isn't handicapping. It's being greedy.

The majority of inside information that you hear at the races comes second-hand or beyond, the guy crawling through the garbage bin heard from the cook who heard from a hot walker that somebody was going to win for fun. Winning for fun, winning for revenge, winning angry, they all pay the same.

The other material you hear at the races is a handicapper's opinion, "handicapper" being as good a euphemism for "gambler" as you could ever hope to find.

A handicapper's opinion is usually a lot more interesting than inside information. But if somebody is better than you are, what do you do when he or she is sick? If many others are better than you are, what are you doing at the horse races in the first place?

A track is full of nervous energy. Combine this with the fact that people everywhere are afraid to be alone with their thoughts and peace and quiet can be difficult to find at the races.

There is a great scene in the underrated motion picture "Magic" suggesting that an inability to sit quietly upon occasion can be a marker of a mental problem. Acting with a great deal of skill in "Magic" are Anthony Hopkins, Burgess Meredith and Ann-Margaret in her ample prime.

Hopkins plays a ventriloquist about to go nuts, Meredith his talent agent.

In one of the more chilling scenes in any excellent suspense film, Meredith asks Hopkins if he can simply sit quietly for a couple of minutes and not speak through his dummy. The seconds seem more like minutes as Hopkins squirms through the silence.

He can't sit still and keep quiet.

And so it goes at the horse races.

Who you like at Ellis? Who you like at Del Mar? Who you like at Podunk Downs?

Two weeks ago I bought some high-dollar earphones that block out unwanted racket and guarantee privacy.

One day this week I wore them to the horse races.

The sounds of silence are so infrequently heard, they can at first be surprising.

But being able to focus totally on a horse race becomes immediately pleasurable.

The first great moment I experienced with the earphones was when somebody stood in front of me and probably asked who I liked here and who I liked there. And I heard nothing!

Anybody wearing earphones is thought to be uppity. At first, earphones won't eliminate attempts at communication. People yell. But if you smile and shrug and point to your covered ears, pretty soon they'll leave you alone.

The quiet was like a luxury.

It didn't prevent cheering at the proper time.

But I heard no bad guesses, no gossip straight from a stall, no drunk talk, no comments from a teller than can jinx a handicapper on the spot: "What happened to all those tickets I've been selling you?"

I won $68. Only $15 an hour. For a while I couldn't concentrate completely because I thought I could hear the blood rushing through my head. I began to relax after an hour and left the races with more energy than was usually the case.

Peace and quiet isn't for everybody.

If you don't know what you're doing, come talking and listening.

Write to Jay at jaycronley@go.com