A Farewell to Aqueduct Racetrack: Nostalgia and Reflection from a New York City Sports Fan
Late in the morning of June 13, amidst the anticipation of Game 5 of the NBA Finals, I boarded the A train, leaving behind my Brooklyn neighborhood of 17 years. My destination? Aqueduct Racetrack, with post time at 1:10 p.m. The significance of this visit was underscored by the fact that after 132 years of racing, Aqueduct would soon close its doors forever. The first race was held on September 27, 1894, at a track established by the Queens County Jockey Club, named after the water delivery system that once served New York City.
Aqueduct was once a glamorous hub for fans of the Sport of Kings, but as it prepared for its final farewell on June 28, its significance seemed fading—remarkably unnoticed by the broader populace. It’s a poignant point: racing has obsolesced in the modern era with the advent of off-track betting, televised simulcasts, and mobile sports gambling. History shows that the allure of attending a racetrack in person has significantly diminished.
The struggles facing Aqueduct were compounded by the proximity of Belmont Park, just nine miles away, which recently began a $455 million modernization project. Interestingly, Belmont’s renovations meant that some races would temporarily be held at Aqueduct this summer. However, once the fall season arrives, Aqueduct’s functional chapter will be closed for good.
My relationship with the track is akin to that of a dilettante; I visit occasionally, drawn by the storied history of New York City sports. When news broke in late May about Aqueduct’s impending closure, it surprised many, including frequent visitors. To pay homage to its legacy, I concocted a simple plan: wager a total of $132 over ten races, one dollar for every year that Aqueduct had been in operation.
Race 1: A Glimpse of the Atmosphere
As the first race commenced, I placed my bets: a $10 trifecta and a $3 exacta. The atmosphere buzzed with the energy of loyal patrons. Nearby, a couple held hands and immersed themselves in the spectacle, while the louder factions provided comic relief with their passionately profane outbursts. One man, in a moment of frustration directed at a horse, shouted, “This fucking Camacho wins every goddamn race!” The blend of gambling prowess and colorful personalities was unmistakable, even if the uncouth nature amused me more than it troubled.
Race 2: An Eerie Third Floor
The third floor, with its seemingly haunted ambiance, housed a sports desk where host Andy Serling delivered updates. A former Wall Street broker, Serling embraced the rarified world of horse racing, recounting vivid memories of Aqueduct—like the legendary 1967 Woodward Stakes featuring three Hall-of-Fame horses. His nostalgia echoed through the space, making the impending closure feel even more poignant.
Race 3: Newcomers Seek Excitement
I encountered Sean W., a finance professional on his inaugural visit, surrounded by a group eager for a pregame thrill ahead of the Knicks’ game. With their phones in hand to place bets, their visit served as a cultural exploration of modern NYC rather than a traditional racetrack experience, juxtaposing centuries-old traditions with today’s technological shifts.
Race 4: Remembrance and Sentimentality
Legendary jockey Ángel Cordero Jr. shared his cherished memories, championing Aqueduct’s consistent track quality. Recalling his own triumphs and hardships, including severe injuries, Cordero expressed profound attachment to the venue—“We’re losing the best surface in America,” he lamented, as memories surfaced of victory and camaraderie that unfolded on those tracks.
Race 5: The Bet of Friendship
In my fifth wager, I went bold, placing a $10 win/place/show bet on a horse owned by an industry stalwart. Watching the race from the rail was thrilling despite the ensuing loss, yet it underscored the day’s excitement. Conversations revealed a deep-seated love for Aqueduct—characters like Steven Crist spoke passionately about the unique charm of the track, encapsulating not just a facility but a community built around shared experiences.
Race 6 and 7: Seeking Solace Elsewhere
After several losses, I took refuge in Silks, the ground-level bar alive with stories and laughter. I met retired electricians and recounts of bets gone right. Skip’s humorous anecdote about an implausibly successful day highlighted the relational context stemming from years spent at Aqueduct, showcasing how stories intertwine within this singular experience.
Race 8: The Underlying Current
As the day progressed, I observed Aqueduct’s ambiance morphing into something more somber. Conversations turned toward the future beyond the racetrack. Notably, David Hill, an astute observer of gambling culture, acknowledged the layered issues of the racing industry, from track overpopulation to a need for selective pruning. Even as he recognized Aqueduct’s charm, he hinted at larger changes needed to revitalize the sport.
Race 9: Echoes of Risk and Reward
The bittersweet flavor of my experiences at Aqueduct heightened as I navigated the shift from playful bets to reality. Amid tales of past excitement, the specter of criminality loomed, as hinted by an audacious heist.
Race 10: The Closer
As I settled in for the day’s final race, the remaining crowd dwindled, leaving behind the devoted few. Nearing the end of my solo journey, I encountered Erskine, a true devotee, sharing his routine and losses but also the joy Aqueduct brought to his otherwise arduous life.
Race 11: Letting Go
With the last race waning and the pull of the city beyond beckoning, I decisioned to press my luck one last time. My final bet wasn’t fruitful, but it symbolized my connection—a tangible farewell to a storied world that represented more than mere betting. Tearing up my losing tickets, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of Aqueduct’s impending vacancy echo through the avenues, soon to become mere whispers in the rich tapestry of New York’s legacy.
As I walked to catch my train, I turned back for one final look at the stately racetrack. The memories made here, entwined with the collective experiences of countless others, shall linger long after its closure, perhaps turning into nostalgic tales for the newcomers who will discover, years down the line, that once, there was a horse track here.