A Day At Seoul Race Park

Because of the last-minute nature of the trip, I didn't really have any preconceptions about the Korean racetrack experience. Had I thought about it, I probably would have been somewhat skeptical. Their racing isn't where ours is, or where Europe's is, and so why wouldn't their racetracks and fanbase reflect that?

Whether I thought about it or not, I left Seoul Race Park on Sunday evening, the pink sun dipping into the mountains behind the track's grandstand, both impressed and inspired.

To be sure, I wasn't expecting 50,000-strong crowds, diverse in income and age and enthusiastic about the sport. Or at least betting on the sport. I wasn't expecting a sprawling, relatively modern track with seating-*seating*-for 77,000. And I wasn't expecting the grounds to be so well planned out and aesthetically appealing.

I came to Seoul last Wednesday to cover the Asia Challenge Cup, held Sunday, on the invitation of the Korea Racing Authority (and with an assist from the Kentucky Thoroughbred Association's Chauncey Morris). And I'll leave with a much different perspective. It would be no surprise to me if, in 20 years, Korea is hosting a carnival in the vein of Hong Kong's International Races. Or if its breeding industry is routinely producing horses capable of winning on the world stage. It will take money, hard work and vision, but the foundation is being laid as we speak.

That was evident walking around Seoul Race Park yesterday. It's a grand facility, made up of two separate grandstands that sit next to each other. Walk out onto the apron and there is tiered seating where fans set up for the day. That's if they don't arrive in time to land the plum spots on the big squares of artificial turf that are interspersed the length of the grandstand. I admit, it doesn't sound that appealing on paper, but hundreds of families spread out blankets were having a great time, and it seemed to me something that might work great at Belmont Park.

At the end of the grandstand nearest the far turn is a series of statues, fountains and little parks. A bronzed mare and foal sip from a pool as children romp by; another installment has a band of wild horses leaping over a water feature. Speaking of which, it's hard to beat the one that comes into view as you walk down the back side of the grandstand toward the huge sunken walking ring. It's a four- or five-story, man-made waterfall crafted from a rock outcropping.

The walking ring itself provides thousands of spectators great views of the horses warming up, and as the jockeys get a leg up, many of the saltier regulars yell down unsolicited advice, much like the guys that line the paddock at Aqueduct in the winter. (“Advice”–ie. don't blow this ride like you did the last one–is really a euphemism here, isn't it?)

Inside, both the northern and southern grandstands have six or seven floors, and I didn't walk around one area that wasn't crowded. Adjacent to the spacious suite where the international guests were being treated to a huge buffet was the owners' section, which had the feel of a private club. Well-heeled older gentlemen and their serious-faced wives sat around tables in leather chairs and handicapped the races.

On the other side of the guest suite, accessible by a windowless door and monitored to keep the riff-raff out of the owners' area, is a huge open space that resembles a convention floor with maybe a hundred round tables set up. Fans pay about $10 each to be in this area, which is lined with TVs and betting windows. As in Hong Kong and Japan, there's no verbal betting. Tellers take the slip you've filled out, make sure there are no mistakes (for me, there were always mistakes), and register the bet.

The ground floors of the grandstand were more casual, though really, very few people I saw were dressed up. This wasn't a social event to see and be seen; people were here to enjoy a day out, and to gamble. Here, people sat on the floor and spread out forms before them. You could buy food at various stands, and there was even a mini 7-11 to pick up a soda or whatever.

There are a large number of families here at the track with young children. One reason, normally at least, is because the infield holds a massive, tree-lined, horse-themed park, where kids can go on pony rides and whatnot. The park is currently closed now, however, and isn't set to reopen for another year or more. There are still plenty of activities for children, though. On the backstretch, there's a small, kid-friendly Museum of the Horse that includes items such as first-century earthenware relics (of horses), antique bronze stirrups, and even several horse skulls. Because what kid doesn't like skulls?

As I left Seoul Race Park last night, I thought of the line Alastair Middleton had given me the other day: “The infrastructure is great, the handle is great, the racing is developing. There's a long way to go, but we're certainly moving in the right direction.”

Korea is moving in the right direction. And they're doing it quickly.