You haven’t lived until you’ve heard the Bob Dylan/Guns ‘N Roses classic infused with some zydeco-inspired situs online . Of course, if you’re going to spend a Friday night in June at a Cajun Racino, you can’t exactly complain about the music.

I felt a little out of place at Evangeline Downs tonight. My Playboy shirt and jeans was more suited for the posh (by Louisiana standards) Clubhouse than the smoke-filled, litter-covered grandstand. I also stood out because my shoes covered my toes and I didn’t have a wad of chewing tobacco under my lip.

I wasn’t there to impress anyway. I was there to pick the ponies.

“Cmonwitdatone!”

*snap*

“Cmonwitdatone!”

*snap*

“Cmonwitdatone!”

Apparently when you spend a lot of time at the track, you begin to lose the ability to enunciate. My own, “Come on with that 1!” sounded downright British compared to the Acadiana slurs I was hearing through every race.

And it didn’t work, either. The #1 horse, Peetiethepieman, got out to an early lead but failed to hold off Best Minister Yet. That cost me the win and the exacta. Had the 3 horse gotten up for third, I would have had the trifecta, but that didn’t happen either. The near miss was a sign of things to come.

“Deryagotree!”

*snap*

“Deryagotree!”

*snap*

“Deryagotree!”

Perhaps my problem is that I don’t punctuate every exclamation with a snap. That’s the way the pros do it. You can spot the amateurs because they slap their hand with their program instead. Someday maybe I’ll be a snapper.

The three horse didn’t finish first, but he did win the race. Despite coming out of the turn swerving worse than Lindsey Lohan driving Tara Reid home on a Saturday night, #3 Taylor’s Niner was not the one disqualified. It was #1 All Black, who was clearly the better before drifting inexplicably inward in front of the three before running away with it. The DQ kept my new Pick 3 alive, but the rest of the race was a loser.

I didn’t cash my first ticket until the fifth race, and that was only because my longshot special was a late scratch and I got a refund. The next race, one of my top picks tossed his jockey right after the start. The horse finished strong though, crossing the line sans jockey about 30 lengths out. Thankfully, I did score a 4-1 win bet in the race to finally break the seal.

The Pick 3 from the 6th, 7th and 8th races paid a whopping $1760. I didn’t have that bet.

I did however, fight my way back thanks to an offspring of a familiar racing name, Kentucky Derby and Preakness winner Silver Charm. Going off at 5/2 was Private Charm. The big win bet was nice, but the $71 exacta, which I had 2.5 times, was even better.

Back in March, I cloed strong, nailing a 42-1 shot. Tonight, there was no 42-1 shot worth betting. There was, however, an intriguing 6-1 horse that was hoping to break his maiden in his 5th race. All the other money was going to a horse that had already failed to win 10 times, but not mine.

My horse, #4 Preceaux, came across the line first, securing me a modest profit for the night. Unfortunately, it was the #2 horse and not the #1 that placed costing me an exacta in the $200 range. That’s okay, though. As bad as my night started, I was more than happy to pull my one outer on the river.

Next time maybe I’ll try the sandals, three-days-of-facial-hair-growth, spit-cup-carrying look and see if that helps me to a little more consistent night. I’m certainly working on my snapping!