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t. ........ . . . ................... THE SAD CASE OF HEAD PLAY t I j ; By SALVATOB - - - --.4 In this fair and happy NIRA land of ours 1 we are blessed with a multitude of coun- sellors. Vhenever anybody, no matter who, 1 Is in doubt about anything he or she can 1 always write to somebody who writes for i something and inquire about the proper : thing to do; and within a few mornings or 1 evenings afterward the information desired 1 will be forthcoming. Quite probably under a "feature head," with only less conspicuous i subheads. In this way there are no corners on knowledge. What is intended, by a great : mind, is at the same time broadcast for the 1 benefit of the whole wide world. It is true, as is well known, that such information is ; primarily intended for those in doubt or trouble and not those whose problems are automatically self-solving. And it is also true and equally well known that: Laugh and the world laughs with you, Weep and you weep alone. Nevertheless, if the lone weepers would only hire a hall and get together under a code, of course it would be found that all loneliness had ceased. Hence, when words of counse- .are handed out to any individual their publication in the morning or evening prints is bound to reach thousands in similar case and go home to their businesses and bosoms. Which is really the reason, I take it why these counsellors continue to hold thei- jobs and draw their salaries. Their words of wisdom, while ostensibly addressed to Muriel McGinnity or Reginald Pumpernickel, are really intended for all the Muriels and Reginalds that hang upon the pages of, let us say, the worlds almost-greatest newspaper, or some other sheet t equally eminent. And if, morning or evening, the sage advice of Beatrix Hairwax or Bart Bruceton, or some other dispenser of sweetness and light, were not to appear in its wonted corner, there" would be an mmediate decrease of circulation that would rock the entire organization. Having, from the beginning felt the necessity of some higher wisdom than any I possess, I have often yielded to the urge, not of writing to any of the oracles for specific direction on how to proceed in my own individual case, but of reading what they hand out to others in the hope that there I would find something touchin on and ap-pertainin to what was just at the moment causing me to lie awake nights. Of late this sleeplessness, despite NIRA, and all other uplifts, has been more obstinate than ever. So this morning, haggard and hollow-eyed and with" little appetite for the matutinal honey , lew supposing I had happened to possess the price thereof, I turned to the purveyors of wisdom for those who walk in darkness, hop-ing that they might, peradventure, let fall, j I just incidentally, something that might, with a little remodeling, fit my particular case, j A.nd, while I did not directly realize my hope, 1 just incidentally, I did derive something of profit for, indeed, how could it be otherwise? Must not anything and everything that a great, not to say universal, mind, transmits to the public, contain something, at least, from which any arid everybody can benefit and arise wiser, though possibly sadder, because of having perused it? As it happened, the particular great mind that I resorted to for comfort, inspiration . and, perhaps, a few hints, if not direct first-aid, had chosen to discourse upon the : choice of a profession. Also of the sticking ; to the aforesaid choice after having chosen l it. And among other priceless pearls of pure lustre I found the following admonition: "Having once, adopted a profession, with i the intention of making it your lifes work, STICK TO IT! In especial, make up your mind to be contented with it. Be a booster for it and not a "knocker" of it. There is nothing perfect in this world and that goes 5 for professions as well as everything else. So dont get discontented with your profes sion, just because it has features you dislike. - Forget them and concentrate on the ones you do. And, above all things, dont t go about calling the attention of others to its drawbacks. On the contrary, give the i world to understand that to you, it is the i one best bet among all possible professions 3 and, in your eyes, is 100 per cent to the good. . In that way, you will elevate your line of E work in the opinion of others, while they will 1 also take a favorable view of you, because J of the enthusiasm and pep with which you 1 go about your own duties. This attitude J is the only one if you wish to climb the ladder - to the top rounds. If you adopt the 2 opposite one, you will never get above the 2 lower ones." That set me to thinking. I thought how 1 many years ago it was that I adopted the 2 profession if you would call it that of a i turf journalist, and what complete confidence - I had in it, about that time, as not only the ideal profession of all and sundry 1 1 1 i : 1 1 i : 1 ; j I j 1 . : ; l i 5 - t i i 3 . E 1 J 1 J - 2 2 1 2 a i - that were open to a youngster at that pre-historic period, but the one and only one that would make me completely and perfectly happy in the words of the counsellor of future years. "100 per cent to the good." I recalled how deaf I was to other counsellors of that period, some of them near ones, who did not publish their advice to the world, and were much averse to my adopting it. That advice, however, I spurned yes, spurned is the proper word for at that time, I would rather have been a turf journalist than been President. Yes, I actually would. Well, as I remarked, that was a long time ago. And here I am, still a turf journalist that is of a sort. If sticking to a profession is the great desideratum, once one has embraced it, with a hammer-lock embrace, I ought to be, after all this time, high upin those altitudes to which my morning counsellor referred to in the newspaper I have just laid aside. Instead of which well, just look at me now and omit further details. Having stuck to my profession, through thick and thin, ever since I once fastened myself to it, I have, through the numerous summers and winters in the interim elapsed, become fairly well acquainted with it "up both sides and down the middle." Like all others see the philosopher quoted above it is not a perfect profession. In fact, I could change it in various particulars were I to "remould it nearer to my hearts desire," to quote Omar Khayyam, a sage now somewhat declasse, but formerly fashionable and as my condition in it is what it is and rather certain so to remain that is, static and subject to small variation, I have no objection to stating that, perhaps because of all that, I think it worth while mentioning some of those aforesaid particulars. This because I still remain loyal to my profession and am not sure my life would have been anything better or happier had I chosen some other among those which, when I chose it, I was" besought, pled with and almost commanded to, instead. It has been the hap of turf journalism to attract to itself some in fact, a good many exceptional men, who would have succeeded in and been ornaments of any other career they had adopted. Contact with such minds has been to me a great privilege, while I have also had the privilege of personal acquaintance with many of them. There have also been other members of the craft of a different order. And, when I have read, or now read, some of their effusions, I have wondered why on earth they went into turf journalism or why they stay there? For, as a rule, they have brought nothing to it in return for what they may have taken away. And, instead, have disfigured it all ,too often by what they have contributed to it. As a case in point, I feel bound to remark upon that of Head Play. That colt has re cently been forced not only out of the contention, but actually off the turf by misfortunes for which he himself cannot be held responsible. Some of the. comments I have read upon this fact, from the pens of turf journalists, in some cases of prominence, have done little credit to the profes-. sion to which we all belong. Their tone, to say nothing more pointed, has been un- worthy, not alone of a turf journalist who aspires to an honorable position in the ranks, but of one among men of judgment, fair mind, good taste or right intentions. The case of Head Play is, indeed, a sad one. I can recall no other in my somewhat lengthy turf experience just like it. There is no use of rehearsing its details and inci-. dents and pausing to dot all the is and cross all the ts in the lamentable record, which is now a matter of history most un- happily beyond recall. Many good judges held the opinion, and still do, that Head Play was one of the best colts that hasap- peared in the past few seasons; that he was intended for great things and, under happier auspices, would have attained them, and now rank, by right of performance, in an enviable place upon the "bright register of fame." Instead "his star has set in dark eclipse" and what should have been cheers and plaudits have been replaced by jeers and hisses from numerous quarters. To those to whom Head Play was just another race horse, and to whom race horses means merely something to gamble with or on, to glorify when they win and to denounce when Ihey lose, I am aware that the point of view which I am here ex- posing is meaningless or worse. But I desire to say in closing that his case is a sad one not only as regards the colt himself and the sport of racing in the year 1933; but as regards many of the comments now being made upon him, which are so little credit- able to their authors and, above all, so un-t sportsmanlike in their tenor that they can have no extenuation.
