by Craig Bandoroff
It's been a tough few month in our little corner of the world. Ashton Moynihan, Gerry Dilger, Dennis Lynch and now Cris Caldwell. All of them special and wonderful in their own way. We will be reminded of them too often and miss them all.
Auctioneers have been a big part of my livelihood for a long time. And I've seen some great ones. When I first came around and after college when I worked for Fasig-Tipton, I got to watch two of the legends, Ralph Retler and Laddie Dance. They were the only two people I ever knew that got paid to steal, bragged about it, and didn't get arrested. It was just a game to them. At Keeneland, Tom Caldwell dominated the scene. He was the antithesis of Ralph and Laddie. A very big man with a baritone voice it was like watching and listening to the king on his throne. He presided over his arena with a quiet authority. I guess he had to always be on his best behavior because his wife, Mary, sat in the pavilion from beginning to end of every session and his sons, Scott and Cris were following in his footsteps.
When I heard Saturday that Cris Caldwell died, like everyone, I was shocked. But mostly I was overcome with sadness. He was always the picture of health, carried himself with a cowboy swagger that portrayed his confidence and comfortableness in his surroundings.
Everyone liked Cris. How could you not? What made Cris a great auctioneer was you knew he cared about you and how you did. It was like having Willie Mays at bat for you. He wasn't going to let you down. He was going to do his part to get it done and get it done well. It's a strange trade we are in. At the end of the day your hopes, your dreams and at times your financial well being is in the hands of the guy in the stand holding a gavel. He can make you or break you. You knew with Cris there you had a guy working to make you. He'd come by the barns to check on you to see if you needed anything. On a big horse he'd come to you in the back walking ring to get any last minute information or sometimes share some with you.
Cris was a friend, your partner and when he was in the stand you knew he was going to do his best for you. Not just because it was his job but because he cared about you. He wanted you to do well. As a guy who made a living selling horses you really couldn't ask for any more than that. When you led one up there and Cris was in the stand you knew you had a shot. He'd do his damndest to make it happen.
Sixty-three years old is way too young. All these people are way too young. I'll tell you one thing though. I don't know if they have auctions in heaven but if they do they just got a good one.
When I walk into that back walking ring or the pavilion at Keeneland this fall I'll really miss him.
This one hurts.
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