By Alan Carasso
When the calendar hits September of 2018, I will have spent 20 years in the saddle here at the TDN. And I wouldn't be where I am now if not for a fateful meeting some two decades ago with Bob Curran, who is retiring this week as vice president of corporate communications for The Jockey Club.
I was in my early 30s in 1998 and in a true transitional phase in my life, at a crossroads of sorts. My father had passed away earlier that year and it was time for a change. At that juncture, I knew only that I was departing Chicago later that summer bound for metropolitan New York, and it appeared that I would be doing so without first securing a job. That wasn't for lack of trying, but everything was a dead end.
Never did I really believe that I could possibly end up with a job in Thoroughbred racing, but having done some networking (if I recall correctly, the late New York Daily News photographer Dan Farrell had a hand in this), I ended up at the offices of Thoroughbred Racing Communications. For those who may not know, the TRC was a media relations office in the heart of Manhattan funded by the Thoroughbred industry in the days that preceded the National Thoroughbred Racing Association.
Bob didn't know me and I didn't know him, either. But he welcomed me into his office and we just talked shop for, oh, I'd say 45 minutes, a chunk of time which couldn't have been easy to set aside. I don't remember all these years later what we talked about, although I do specifically recollect engaging in some conversation about Skip Away, who was at that time six months removed from his stirring Breeders' Cup Classic success. Anyways, we chatted and on my way out Bob said something to me like, “Well, I don't have anything for you here, but give me your resume and I'll keep my eyes and ears open.” I can't say that I left Bob's office overly optimistic, but I was truly grateful for the time he invested in a total stranger.
About six weeks later my phone rang from an unknown number, but with an area code that I recognized was New Jersey. On the other end was Sue Finley, who said that she'd received my resume from Bob Curran and would I be interested in coming out for an interview?
Um, OK, if I must!
And so, in the few days before Coronado's Quest won the Haskell, I interviewed in the TDN's offices–then a few furlongs down the road in Fair Haven–and the rest, as the saying goes, is history.
None of this ever happens without Bob Curran, whose willingness to chew the fat with some green 30-something in from Chicago paved the way to a job–no, a career–in this fascinating and ever-evolving discipline.
Thanks a million, Bob. From the bottom of my heart. Here's wishing you the very best of everything in all your future endeavors.
Not a subscriber? Click here to sign up for the daily PDF or alerts.
