Ah, my dear friend, today is the day—the moment we’ve been waiting for at Oaklawn. The track is set, the contenders for the Rebel and its supporting card are primed, and you, well, you have something no one else does—our exclusive Workout Report. Not just any report, mind you. The one. The only. The definitive edge in a game where the slightest advantage separates the winners from the also-rans.
You see, while others grasp at straws, searching for whispers in the wind, you have the blueprint. No competition. No rivals. Just pure, unfiltered insight, curated to give you the upper hand. And if that’s not enough to stir your senses, we’ve prepared a little something extra—a video library of works embeded in the Oaklawn sheet, a veritable treasure trove, to wet your whistle and sharpen your instincts.
You know there are never been a Workout Report from Hot Springs, Arkansas until this meet!
So, my friend, the question isn’t whether you’re ready. The question is… are they?
Ah, what a spectacle we have before us. The jockeys—sharp, hungry, relentless—are ready. Flavien Prat, as calculated as a master chess player, the Ortiz brothers, a ruthless duo with the precision of seasoned assassins. They’ve all descended upon Hot Springs, Arkansas, sweeping in like an old-school mob takeover.
Make no mistake, they haven’t come for the scenery or the bathhouses. No, they’ve set their sights on something far more enticing—the Arkansas purses. Thick. Ripe. Begging to be taken. And taken, they will. These aren’t mere riders; they’re tacticians, mercenaries of the saddle, each with a plan, a scheme, a quiet little way of ensuring that when the dust settles, it’s their name on the board and their pockets lined.
So, my friend, as the gates fly open and the thundering hooves set the stage, remember—this isn’t just the races. It’s a heist. And only the most cunning will make it out with the loot.
Ah, Hot Springs, Arkansas—THE oasis, sanctuary, glittering mirage of where the rich, the infamous, and the untouchable converged in a delicate dance of indulgence and impunity.
You see, this wasn’t just some backwater retreat. No, this was the place, a veritable playground where men like Al Capone, Albert Anastasia, Bugsy Siegel, Carlos Marcello, and the ever-calculating Lucky Luciano walked the streets as if they owned them. And in a way, they did.
The town was a paradox—serene yet sinister, a paradise for ballplayers like Babe Ruth during spring training, and yet, just beneath the surface, a haven for those who made their living skirting the law. Under the warm embrace of corrupt law enforcement and elected officials more than willing to look the other way, Hot Springs became more than a hideaway—it became a kingdom of crime, a place where the Depression-era outlaws like Frank “Jelly” Nash and Alvin “Creepy” Karpis found refuge from the ever-tightening grip of the authorities.
And then there was Lucky Luciano, ever the gentleman gangster, ensconced in the grandeur of the Arlington Hotel with the mesmerizing Gay Orlova at his side. He was untouchable—or so he thought. But fate has a cruel sense of irony, doesn’t it? A New York officer, in town on unrelated business, just happened to spot him strolling casually near the bathhouses with the local chief of detectives, no less. A moment of chance, a twist of fate, and suddenly, Luciano’s little vacation came to an abrupt end. Arrested, extradited, and ultimately convicted, his time in Hot Springs became more than just a footnote—it was a cautionary tale.
Yes, my friend, Hot Springs was more than just a town. It was a stage, and for a time, the most powerful criminals in America were its leading men.
Ah, the stage is set. The players have arrived. The question, my dear friend, is not whether a heist will take place, but whom will execute it to perfection. Will it be the seasoned professionals—the out-of-towners, the big names, the ones who’ve made a career out of walking away with the loot while the rest are left grasping at air? Or will it be a homegrown talent, someone who knows these streets, this track, this game better than anyone?
Because make no mistake—today is the day in Hot Springs. The scores are there for the taking, the purses ripe for the plundering, the opportunities lingering in the air like the last whisper of a secret too dangerous to keep. The question isn’t just who will strike, but how—a well-timed move, a calculated risk, a bold play when the moment calls for it.
And perhaps… just perhaps… the one to pull off the perfect heist today isn’t some storied name from the past or a legend in the making. Maybe, just maybe… it’s you.