50-1.

Nobody bets on a 50-1 long shot. We all fantasize how much the pay out would be if that horse nobody knows about actually won the race. Of course, they never win. Except for yesterday at the Kentucky Derby when a horse from New Mexico called Mine That Bird pulled off the feat.

The horse defied all of my rules for Kentucky Derby Winners. First, the horse has to have a cool name, usually with alliteration. You know, like Big Brown or Street Sense. One word monikers also do well, like Barbaro or Secretariat. Mine That Bird? What the heck does that mean? Also, there were two bird names in the race (Summer Bird finished 6th). I always assume that means the names cancel each other out.

My pick was Chocolate Candy. That horse finished 5th. By the way, I'm a lousy gambler.

There it is, though. 50-1 wins. The pay out for a winner was $103.20. For every dollar you put down on Mine That Bird to win, you got more than a Benjamin back. Not too shabby for a race that takes all year to come and two minutes to finish.

Was the horse juiced? Maybe, but aren't they all juiced one way or another? They're bred to run. They're injected with vitamins. They're not making they're own decisions about their diet. They're not humans. This isn't Alex Rodriguez feeling the pressure to perform for his massive contract or anything.

Or maybe it was strategy. That horse sat at the back while all the other jockeys slugged it out at the front until the jockey said 'Go!' and Mine That Bird went past every other horsey on the tracky.

Long shots usually do the opposite. Run as fast as they can for as long as they can, and hope the field doesn't catch up, which they almost always do. Long shots don't catch up. Long shots don't sneak up the rail. Long shots don't win by 6 1/2 lengths!

For some reason, this one did.

I've read a lot of Bukowski, which means I've read many stories and poems about the horses. More specifically, the track. There is a little old man's dream of going to the track to bet like other people go to work. He never once mentioned a 50-1 shot paying off for him at Hollywood Park, let alone The Kentucky Derby.

Mine That Bird was supposed to be an also ran. Down at Sunland Park (in very Southern New Mexico), the horse didn't even win. It came in fourth in one race and second in the next. Enough to qualify for a big race, not to win. Not to place, which paid out at $54. Not even to show, which paid out at $25.80. This horse was not supposed to pay out.

I root for the underdog, but we all assume the underdog has a chance. Even David had a sling shot. I rooted for the Chicago Bulls to upset the defending champion Boston Celtics in Game 7 of their series, but it didn't happen. Even the underdog couldn't pull it off. The tiny Filipino boxer knocked out the tiny British contender in the first round. No upset there. Not even a real fight, and the loser still got $8 million. The only real losers in a boxing match are the fans who paid to watch it.

So what do we do with Mine That Bird? This gelding is the biggest upset at the Kentucky Derby since 1913. The poor horse can't even go out to stud. No harem of mares for Mine That Bird. And that name! Who bets on a name like that? No one. That's why the horse was such a long shot.

Maybe we should all feel like we have a chance. Maybe we should get inspired and believe that if this long shot can shoot up the rail, then we can pull up our own boots straps and beat the field.

Or maybe we can sip our whiskey, shake our head, and wonder why we didn't put five bucks to win on a long shot from New Mexico. Hey, I'm a long shot from New Mexico, too. Maybe I'll just keep betting on myself. I'm at least a 50-1 shot to win. Any takers?

Chris Jungle is a much better drinker than gambler.