The search for america’s small, hidden and bizarre festivals
fox field launch slideshow
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the FoxField Races
Few things are more beautiful than a sunny day in Charlottesville in the spring time. The temperature is just warm enough for you to feel the heat but the notorious summer humidity is still a few months away. The dogwoods are in their majestic pink and white blooms. The daffodils couldn’t be a more perfect yellow. And the folks living here gleefully shake off the long winter season with whatever outdoor activity they can find. There’s a gaiety to the air that’s infectious. And down off Garth Road on the last Saturday every April there’s a type of gaiety and cheer that can only come from 12oz cans and horse racing. The Fox Field Races are a C-ville tradition where the county’s blue-bloods picnic lavishly on the outer rim while UVA students drink themselves into a hilarious (if not dangerous) stupor. On the outfield it’s a white-collar picnic; on the infield it’s the most savage frat party you’ve ever seen in a field. Never mind the sundresses, bow ties, seersucker jackets and enough JCrew to barely stomach…I think they mean to be ironic. (Or am I giving them too much credit?)
Is Fox Field an event worthy of the AFP name? Some might argue that it’s not totally in line with our mission. We’re not sure it had the kind of cultural relevance of some of our other events. But it was in our backyard, and if there’s one thing Fox Field had in common with plenty of our other events…it’s beer. So we grabbed our preppiest shirts, our cameras, a few cases for ourselves just to fit in, oh, and some of our best buds and joined the massive crowd.
L to R: Maria, Ross, Mandy, Sarah, Jenna, Jonny, Andrew
The biggest obstacle to Fox Field (besides the hefty ticket price) is getting there. With one road, two entrances, thousands (literally) of cars, and millions of barely legal drinkers (ok, millions is exaggerating but it’s still like trying to find a parking space in a school of fish –Wahoos to be exact!) piled into a giant field, there is bound to be some congestion.
Door to door: 2hrs. Door to door: 7.2miles
Fox Field is no Kentucky Derby, and the stakes aren’t quite as high as the grass. This is after all a Steeplechase with a drinking problem. But this year there were some very sad moments. Two horses broke a leg on the final jump on two separate races and both had to be put down right there on the spot. I missed these moments and only heard about them the next day (the photo action was not on the racetrack) but I did see a nice pink-shirted young colt get put down when he tried to run away from the cops. Why does that seem like a feasible option when you’ve been drinking?
In the end it was a sunny beautiful day and the experience was humorous and spent with good friends. But that might be the last Fox Field for a while. We just didn’t quite fit in. Still, we managed a few nice photos. Enjoy the madness!
In this short video, be sure to notice the Makers Mark bottles, the half moon, and the “Only in America, dude!”
