by Trey Nosrac

My first career move occurred in the 10th grade. After one year of playing high school football, I switched to pole vaulting, where opponents did not try to maim me. As a pole vaulter, I lounged in the soft foam rubber pit and worked on my tan. If you disregard the run-up and only calculate the time airborne, my total career lasted about one minute and 37 seconds, which was fine with me. It allowed me plenty of time to ogle high school girls.

Pole vaulting is a primitive sport in which a human being (or teenager) attempts to soar over a stick using another stick. The whole thing is sort of dull and stupid, but one thing about the sport – it is very fair. You get over the barrier, or you don’t.

One day, our track coach, Mr. Rademacher, strolled over, tapped me on the shoulder, and grumbled, “Your idiot friend Freddy Tetherfield has just been kicked off the team for smoking behind the bleachers, so you are taking his place and running the first leg of the mile relay.” He finished this shocking request by saying, “Just stay in your lane, do your best, and hand the baton to Smithers.”

Rademacher escorted me to the starting blocks and gave me instructions that I immediately forgot. I was delighted that my starting blocks, red wooden triangles that he stomped into the gravel, were several yards in front of lane three and many yards in front of lanes two and one.

The starter pistol cracked.

The other three hopefuls were in my rearview mirror. Panting, arms pumping, mullet hair flying, suddenly I was “The Speedster of Richfield High.” My euphoria lasted approximately 20 seconds. At that point, runners from lanes one, two, and three loomed into my peripheral vision. When a scowling Albert Smithers almost received the baton (yes, I dropped the damn thing), Trey was looking at the taillights of all other competitors.

My first reaction was to blame everyone else. Blame Raymond Tetherfield for being caught with my cigarettes, Coach Rademacher for sending me out so unprepared, and the Machiavellian configuration of the track.

The above is a long-winded introduction to one of my pet peeves in harness racing – the unfairness of an outside position. I cannot understand why years of griping about this unfair travesty generate replies like, “Yeah, well, getting stuck with an outside post is a bummer.”

It is preposterous. Every horse should have an equal distance to travel regardless of assigned position. As constituted, the chances of winning a race from the outside post are minuscule. Starting at a post near the parking lot or empty grandstands makes many races unbeatable, unwatchable, and unconscionable.

Any person capable of simple mathematic calculations and physics (which excludes me) could quickly analyze how much of a distance each post position should be ahead of post 1 to make the distance traveled throughout one mile equal.

I can think of five ways to make the post positions more equitable in five seconds.

Re-engineer the starting gate using lighter-weight composite material. The starting gate should be designed so the outside posts are forward, not just a tiny amount, but tilted significantly so the race will be equitable. Not only is this fair, but viewers would also get a complete view of each horse at the start.

Like the high school mile relay race where I was an unfortunate lab rat, horses should stay in their delineated lanes for the first quarter-of-a-mile. At the end of the first quarter, all will have covered the same distance, and drivers will vie for positions near the coveted rail.

Get rid of the clunky cars and trucks. Just because you have watched a billion harness races line up behind a motorized vehicle does not mean it is the only or the best method. An obtrusive and jarring motorized vehicle as part of a horse race is ludicrous. Use a technique from OFF the surface; What about a laser beam or curtain instead of a starting car fence? What about an audio cue instructing the driver via headphones on the proper placement at the start of a race from sensors below the surface?

What about a standing start where horses stay in assigned lanes?

If we outsourced the beginning of our races to Silicon Valley or a Mensa group as a problem to be solved, it would be very cool to see what new solutions they would suggest for increasing interest and improving our product.

Imagine the start of a horse race without the obtrusive vehicle that can scare horses and cause accidents. Imagine a staggered start that allows viewers to see every single horse. Imagine a race where the draw isn’t so much of the story. Imagine a stationary start. Imagine races with fewer chalks and tosses.

Cheaper, fairer, and more visual esthetics are reasons to say yea instead of neigh. Even a mullet-headed teenager knows that we should innovate. Why not start at the start?