Thousands attend the final races at Derby Lane Greyhound Race Track
by Chip Weiner
In what was billed as the Grand Finale weekend, thousands of people flooded Derby Lane racetrack to catch a glimpse of the final performances of the athletic canines that have performed here for the last 95 years.
At 11:30 a.m. a line snaking around the building is full of mask-wearing race fans waiting to enter. The weather is breezy, sunny and cool, perfect weather for racing. Pandemic safety precautions include a temperature check at the gate. As race fans enter, they get tickets for for two commemorative cans of beer and a black Derby Lane cap. Walking up the ramp the scene turns to a beautifully groomed track, pop music playing over the PA, and crowds gathering around once plentiful benches now dutifully placed six feet apart.
The facility looks tattered in some places, a sign of it’s age and recent low attendance. A once fancy indoor seating area is closed off on the east end of the complex, the interior dark and water stained. Benches high in the main grandstands are dirty and pigeon smudged, evidence of the passing of time with no use. The restaurant, Circa 1925, is closed as a result of the Covid pandemic but onlookers are still able to sit in the Derby Club and watch and wager in comfort.
There’s excitement in the air today. The condition of the buildings doesn’t matter. Track employees and patrons alike are saying they have never seen it this crowded. Old-timers, youngsters and everyone in between gather to watch the end of an era as Derby Lanes 95-year run comes to a close. A brass band plays swing tunes as a salute to days gone by, when bands playing on the infield on race day was a common occurrence.
Lines to place a wager are as long as beer lines, an unusual circumstance in modern Derby Lane terms. Race fans are boisterous and energetic today, some explaining to others the strategy for placing a bets and the meaning of terms like quinella and trifecta. Folks looking like pros do research and study stats and race performance history making notes and marks on their race programs. Others pick their favorite number or color in deciding which greyhound to bet on. Machines for wagering are available but most of these gamblers either do not know that they exist, or just want to place their wager the old-fashioned way, at the window with a teller.
Excitement grows as gamblers and onlookers gather at the fence line to watch the start of the race up close. The ceremony is classic. A trumpet blows over the loudspeaker announcing the start of the race sequence. Leadouts (dog handlers) parade the sleek dogs from the paddock area past the crowd to the starting gates in a tradition as old as the track itself. A spirited announcer calls out the names and weights of the dogs while the head leadout inspects each dog one last time before they walk to the starting line. The announcer makes last call and posts the race time of one minute as the dogs are loaded into their numbered start boxes. In a crescendo of energy, the starting box doors fly open and those graceful beauties dart down the track kicking up sand and looking determined, all to the cheers of fans hoping to win. The race takes less than a minute. Winners celebrate the finish and losers talk about what should have happened. Fifteen minutes later, the entire sequence repeats. It is historical. It is thrilling. It’s been happening this way for 95 years here.
I assume it's because I have a professional looking camera in my hands, but several people approach me and want to give their (unsolicited and sometimes profanity laden) testimony about how voters were wrong with Amendment 13 (the 2018 ballot measure that bans greyhound racing in Florida by 2020) and that the track closing is a travesty. An elderly man with grey whiskers coddling a cocktail in the Derby Club laments the loss of greyhound racing to me, and wonders what will become of the dogs. A stern, wrinkled, smoking woman wonders where all the people who have attended the last few days have been for the last few years and curiously blames it on Republicans. And yet another man, carrying his empty commemorative beer cans, is angry with the closing and cusses about where all of the employees are going to find work. There is an air of melancholy mixed with excitement. It is indeed the end of an era, the last of a breed.
I get it. It is tough to see such a tradition end. For as long as most of us have been around Derby Lane has been an institution. Celebrities, famous athletes, and champion greyhounds have all given this place stature. Fans have won and lost millions here over the years, and still get a thrill when that trumpet blows. Hundreds of employees from leadouts to tellers, bartenders to security, have poured their sweat into the place. Racing has had its set of detractors, but you will not find them here.
Even the most recent news reports and editorials about the tracks closing give oft repeated but inaccurate facts and statistics about the industry and the poor treatment of dogs. It is frustrating for those in the know and confusing for those who aren’t. However, alas, after 95 years the final race results are in. Live racing is over at Derby Lane. The poker room and off-track race wagering will continue. There has been significant developer interest in the property but nothing has been finalized about the disposition of the racetrack. Amazon is already using the parking lot as a staging area for its delivery vans. But as of today, the dogs are done.
Thanks, Derby Lane, for the memories.