If I still had the patience to put tags on posts like a regular person, I would have created one for “bad blogger” by now. Instead, I will use the fact that I haven’t as extra proof of how bad a blogger I truly am.

In any case, a ton has happened since the last time I posted, which was approximately forever ago. Stay Thirsty has become the frontrunner to win the Eclipse Award for three-year-old champion; depending especially on what happens at Saratoga this weekend, his most formidable competition for Horse of the Year will almost certainly come from Blind Luck and Havre de Grace. That was probably the case anyway, but with Grace running in the Woodward and by proxy Blind Luck’s record against her, this is the perfect opportunity for the star fillies to cement their position as the most talented older horses in the country. Anyone who has been watching Bad Blogger for any length of time will already know that I’m head over heels in love with little Lucky and will slobber and cry like a little girl whenever she does anything. If she does enough to get the big one, you may never hear from my puddle-shaped remains again.

I’m with Steve Haskin on Uncle Mo: go for the gold. Run in the Penn Derby and the Classic. What this horse did, coming back from an excruciatingly painful condition to run like the devil in a prestigious Saratoga GI in his first race back, is nothing short of heroic. He made my mother cry. And since all sorts of sounds are coming from the Repole Camp that Mo will probably not run as a four-year-old (which causes me great pangs of grief), there is absolutely no reason not to try and gun it to the finish line. Haskin says it better than I could; his column is here. There is, of course, the argument that the Dirt Mile may attract Shackleford, Sidney’s Candy, Twirling Candy and The Factor–which would make it a stellar contest even without Mo–but… can you imagine?

No Overdriven in the Hopeful this weekend, which means that this “GI” will host a field essentially of maiden winners. J C’s Pride set a track record in his score, but as a son of lights-out sprinter Henny Hughes he doesn’t appear to have much of a future as a sophomore Classic contender and, should he win the Hopeful, will provide more of a preview of next year’s sprint division. You know, assuming he doesn’t break before then. Is it obvious I’m a little bitter about modern baby training methods?

And while I’m talking about things that make me bitter, JOCKEYS: stop being morons. What is with all the domestic violence, anger management problems and DUIs? Coa, Albarado, Smith, Borel, Desormeaux, Baze… When I have zillions of monies and train all the racehorses, I will instantly fire any jock that behaves like an idiot who is allergic to common sense. Bravado and testosterone: two reasons my sentimental-favourite jockeys are Rosie Napravnik and Kayla Stra (and Chantal don’t feel left out I love you too my main Canadian lady). Oh, and also I have a problem with the weight system that pushes these people to abuse themselves and probably doesn’t help the psychological situation, but that’s a subject for a whole other blog or six.

UM. LESS DEPRESSING STUFF WITH WHICH TO END THIS BLOG POST.

The Factor is a massive, certified badass? Yeah. That’ll do. Dear Factor: I’m sorry about the name but I love you anyway. One day I will own a son of yours and I will call him Faux News. And maybe Tide Goes In or Can’t Explain That.

I’m so bad.

With any luck, Bad Blogger won’t be so Bad in the coming weeks and will actually pay attention to the things which are happening. In the meantime, a bombardment of pictures!

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