A Night at the Races : Action Behind the Scenes at Los Alamitos Is Often More Compelling Than What’s on the Track

CYPRESS —  A nightly ritual has begun. Cars fill the parking lot at Los Alamitos Race Course and customers filter into the grandstand, some with sports sections folded under one arm. On their way, they stop for tonight’s program, then find a quiet spot to study the charts.

It’s 30 minutes to post time.

Director of Publicity Dick Feinberg stands in front of a TV camera, previewing the evening’s races and noting upcoming events. “ . . . and Harvey Wallbanger II, the racing buffalo, will be here Sunday, June 23rd,” he says.

People gather in front of TV monitors to watch and listen. At off-track wagering sites from Del Mar to Sacramento to Las Vegas and Rock Springs, Wyo., harness racing fans also can watch the action at Los Al.

Ten minutes to the first post.

On the track, the peculiar sight of harness horses pulling drivers seated in sulkies is played out during a warm-up session. In the paddock, horses in later races are resting. In the drivers’ room nearby, the drivers relax by watching a baseball game on TV or by playing cards.

Five minutes to post time and the track’s lights hum to life. It’s almost show time.

The crowd swells as bettors return from the windows to watch the first race. Others will follow the action on the monitors.

Often it takes a guided tour to find some of harness racing’s hidden charms.

Indeed, what happens behind the scenes is often more compelling than the short time the horses and drivers spend in public view.

With that in mind, here is a peek behind the scenes at a night of racing at Los Alamitos.

THE OWNER

Dr. Norman E. Ringer thinks it’s funny.

“That horse was so well-built when she was born, she was big like Roseanne Barr,” he said. Introducing his horse, he says, “You know Roseanne Ringer.”

Ringer is a big fellow himself, with a hearty laugh and a mind full of horse stories spanning more than 50 years. He says he’s 70 the way Jack Benny was constantly 39--another joke.

He’s from Modesto, a retired doctor who’s been hanging around tracks since 1936. Just now, he’s standing in the paddock at Los Al, awaiting the start of the third race--a mile for 2-year-old fillies with a $22,350 purse. It’s the fourth start for Roseanne Ringer this year.

There’s a little time before post time, so he talks about his favorite subject: racing.

“Harness racing was always my first love,” he said. “My father and grandfather used to race horses at the fairs around the state. They used to go up to Stockton.

“Now I’m a checkbook athlete. I used to play football in college (at the University of San Francisco). I was always a ‘hands-on’ athlete.”

And that’s why he loves the harness racket. Ringer has a friend who owns thoroughbreds but has little control over training or racing. And with good reason. “He doesn’t know a thing,” Ringer said with a laugh.

Ringer’s grandfather came to California in 1852, settling near Modesto. It wasn’t much different from what you’d see on “The Big Valley” reruns. Horses were a big part of life then.

Ringer merely kept with family tradition, raising horses while settling into his medical practice. In 1952, he broke into the harness racing. He’s been at ever since, even during a stint as the president of the Santa Barbara Polo and Racquet Club.

“I used to play polo myself until a couple of years ago,” he said.

A few moments later, he excuses himself to watch the third race, following driver Frank Sherren, who leads Roseanne Ringer out of the paddock.

Roseanne Ringer starts strongly, but quickly fades. First Knockout, a longshot, pays $40.20 to win, $7.00 to place and $4.20 to show. Roseanne Ringer finishes seventh in a field of nine, the the filly’s first loss this year.

THE WINNER

Talk about your locks, mortal and otherwise.

Joe Anderson, a 40-year-old native of Chattanooga, Tenn., is burying all comers as the harness season nears its end at Los Al. On this night, he ranks first among drivers with 123 winners in 588 starts. He has finished in the money 49% of the time.

He’s also fourth in the trainer standings with 40 winners in 227 starts. He’s in the money 43% of the time.

During a quick break between races, he’s asked how he does it.

Really, you only have to thumb through the evening’s program to get the answer. Anderson will drive in all 13 races on this night.

“You can’t win ‘em, if you don’t drive ‘em,” he said.

Much like Ringer, Anderson is involved in all aspects of harness racing. “I own, breed, drive, train . . . it’s all hands-on,” he said.

It’s resulted in a winning formula.

As much as he loves harness racing, it took 18 months away from standardbreds to renew his passion.

Three years ago, he took a crack at training thoroughbreds, moving to meetings at Santa Anita, Del Mar and Hollywood Park.

“I loved it and learned a lot,” he told Steve Schuelein of The Racing Times last week. “I was able to watch Charlie Wittingham and Wayne Lukas go to the track every morning. You idolize those kinds of people.

“It sounds funny because I’ve won 1,500 harness races and only won six thoroughbred races, but I gained a different perspective on how to conduct my business and get better horses.”

With help from Frank Ranaldi, Anderson has put together a stable of about 30 horses since returning full-time to harness racing.

“My own stable is going good,” he said. “That’s the beauty of this. With thoroughbreds, you have control of one aspect. You can only do so much before giving the jockey a hand up. Then, it’s up to him. When you get accustomed to working and doing everything, you miss it.”

THE STARTER

Soon enough, Larry Johns will have seven months off. Then he’ll take the green Lincoln Towne Car back to Charleston, Ill., back to work in the heavy equipment business.

Johns has been the starter and patrol judge at Los Al for the past eight years.

“When I’m not around the horses, I miss ‘em,” Johns said as the Lincoln heads onto the track for the fourth race. “When I’m out here, I get tired of ‘em. (But) it gets in your blood.”

Johns tagged along with his father, who was a starter for about 35 years at tracks in the Midwest. Later, Larry Johns became a trainer and driver at tracks in Illinois, but quit in 1967 when he was drafted. After a tour of duty in Vietnam, he returned to Illinois to start a trucking business.

Fed up with the 24-hour demands on his time, he sold the business in 1984 to return to the tracks.

As the horses finish their warm-up and begin to gather on the homestretch, Johns intones into his microphone: “OK, let’s get ‘em turned around.”

In a few moments, the Lincoln is tooling around the backstretch with the horses fanned out behind. Johns pushes a button and the long, white starting arms swing back and suddenly the race has begun. The car speeds to 40 m.p.h. and moves right, to allow the horses to pass. Johns keeps a sharp lookout for any problems as the horses complete the mile-long race.

After the finish, the car slows, then turns back to the paddock.

The cheering from the crowd dies down and you can make out Willie Nelson singing on the Lincoln’s radio.

I can’t wait to get on the road again . . .

It’s like this five nights a week, Johns said, another night at the races.