Happy Valley

Give me some cold, cheap beer and I’m happy. Add gambling and the most spectacular horse racing venue I have ever seen and I’m ecstatic.

Four weeks ago, while in Hong Kong, my girlfriend and I spent an afternoon at Happy Valley, the city’s out of this world track.

Happy Valley Racecourse was originally built in 1845 on Hong Kong Island to amuse the city’s growing population of British sportsmen. When it was constructed the facility was isolated and surrounded by rice paddies, but today, after numerous renovations, the track lies in the middle of towering skyscrapers. Frankly, I had never seen anything like it.

We arrived at happy Valley for race six of ten of the day and promptly got a tutorial on the ins and outs of betting at the track. After having much of what was explained to me pass in one ear and out the other, I decided to place a ten Hong Kong dollar bet that horse six, a bit of an underdog, would win the race. My reasoning – six is my lucky number. I was born on March six, my Mom on May six and my grandfather wore number six when he played football at Alabama.

A pitcher of Carlsberg later, Jessie and I moved towards the fence and watched as the horses thundered out the gate. By the first turn, and much to my surprise, my horse was in the top three. By the second turn, he had moved into second and at about that point I lost all composure. The next thirty or so seconds were a blur. I vaguely remember waving my ticket in the air, jumping up and down and screaming, “come on you son of bitch,” over and over and over. Jessie was mortified, I was rabid.

But wouldn’t you know it, my horse won. As I ran around in a victory lap, Jessie just shook her head and I’m sure pretended not to know me. It was glorious. At 14 to 1 odds, my bet paid for the rest of the afternoon’s beer and gambling.

Oh happy Valley, you truly are so happy.

(Disclaimer -- These photos are Jessie's. I think she ended up liking the races more than I did. In fact, she picked two winners later in the day.)