Sprawled out in the den floor by the TV, chin in my hands, I savored Kentucky Derby coverage the first Saturday of May each year as a child, Ôtween, and teen. Mom did more than I, actually, but her enthusiasm certainly wore off on me. (She even has the sheet music to “Run for the Roses.” I can remember plunking at the piano keys while contemplating the score’s cover art as a child.)

Even Dad, who isn’t a horse enthusiast, used to get a little excited about Derby. Friday before Derby (Oaks DayÑthough I didn’t know that was what it was called at the time) was a paid holiday because the company’s main plants were in Kentucky at the time