Industry Voices: Bob Feld On What it Means to Try

Bob Feld | Joe DiOrio

The man lying in the hospital bed silent and completely still was a good man and led a good life. A loving husband, amazing father and a relentless provider for his family was slipping closer to death. My dad was a man of conviction, integrity and faith and I try every day to be the man he was. I won't get there, but I try. It's all about trying. He lived a full life and gave up a lot of the freedoms of his youth when he got married, which included owning racehorses.

My mom and dad raised five children on very low incomes. We all grew up thinking we were a middle-class family but in hindsight we were far from it. My parents created a way of life for us so that we never questioned our status growing up. We were happy and lacked nothing, especially love. In his younger days, John Feld dressed well, drove fancy cars, loved to bet on the horses and his getaway was Las Vegas. He was quite the bachelor and lived a fun and adventurous single life and a bit beyond his means because he could.

On one fortuitous trip to Las Vegas, he made a nice chunk of change over the weekend by hitting number 17 on the roulette wheel multiple times. The number 17 became the “Feld family lucky number” and includes events like his first born son born on February 17. The number 17's karmatic showing continues to this day.

My dad had slowly but surely gone into a coma as he was slowly but surely dying in front of his family. My mom, brother, sister, brother-in-law and I were all in the room to be in his presence as he passed. The doctor had told us that his coma was so deep that we would not be able to communicate with him nor would we see any response from him. As the hours went by, it became very apparent that the end of his life was near.

My son Sean and his “Pop” were close because they shared the passion of horse racing. Pop was the quintessential two-dollar bettor who loved the puzzle of picking the winner more than the gamble. In the 1980's, the Oak Tree meeting at Santa Anita started a tradition of giving away a commemorative stein each year on Opening Day of the meet. Pop started his own personal tradition of taking his oldest grandson, Sean, to Opening Day each year to get his stein. Annually on a Wednesday, his Mom and I allowed him to ditch school each year to go with Pop to add to his collection of steins.

I decided since Pop's life was about to end, to call Sean on my cell phone to see if he would like to say goodbye to his grandpa. He agreed. The room was deafeningly silent as if a vigil for my dad had already started. I held my phone up to Pop's ear and I could hear Sean through the phone tell his grandpa, “We are going to win the Kentucky Derby for you Pop.”

At that moment, my dad made a grunting sound. Time stood still. All of us in attendance could not believe there was this fleeting moment of “life” coming from my father to his grandson as he was about to take his last breath. Teary-eyed, I hung the phone up and the silence continued. It wasn't much later when my dad did take his very last breath. It was 9:17 a.m. and of course, on April 17th.

During the past 21 years since Pop passed, like everyone else in the Thoroughbred business, we have “tried” to win the Kentucky Derby, not for ourselves really but for Pop. Our budgets have ebbed and flowed over the years but with any and all budgets we try. That's what we do, it's all about trying. We got close a few years ago when a $61,000 yearling purchase, Sueno, would have been the last horse “scratched” into the race but he chipped his ankle Kentucky Derby week and did not enter. This year, our (not kidding) $17,000 yearling purchase is second in the point standings and has the look of a real contender coming off an impressive win in the Louisiana Derby.

My brother Jude trained on the Southern California circuit for 20 years so Pop knew the game well and he knew how tough it was to win a race, any race. Hot Rod Charlie doesn't have to win on the first Saturday in May and he still has to get there. The fact we have come this far with a $17,000 horse while knowing that Pop was “with us” when we bought him at that price is a victory in itself. I know Pop is proud of us already for trying, but if a 14-year-old boy could keep his promise to his dying grandfather, that would be the most satisfying and greatest victory of all and I have a feeling time will stand still once again for Pop!

Bob Feld, posted on Facebook and published with his permission

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