Hoofbeats and Celebration

On the second day after arriving in the United States.

Even just staying at the hotel, the excitement of a festival-like celebration could be felt.

Looking down from the hallway window, one could see countless people crossing the parking lot and turning onto the walkway, swallowed one by one by the grandstands like ants entering a nest.

There were truly a lot of people, probably because of the entertainment complex inside the racetrack as well.

During holidays or weekends, the number of visitors who were not racing fans seemed to increase too.

Stepping out of the hotel, the weather outside was brilliantly clear, unlike Japan on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

Not a cloud could be seen for miles.

The flags of various nations raised around the racetrack swayed in the faintly cool breeze that still carried traces of summer.

It should still have been early before the races began, yet racing fans had already started gathering sporadically in the free viewing area by the rail.

"Dorsey's racing tonight!"

A racing fan who had been scrolling through his phone suddenly shouted and pointed a beer can toward the hotel.

The outburst was slightly startling.

"Then how about we drink to him? I'd bet that kid will be even better than Brooks."

His companion in a baseball cap immediately grinned and twisted open his beer.

"Give me a break. Cliff is just a dwarf version of the Man in Black. He'll never become a real country singer."

The fan who said that was swiftly besieged by his two companions, but before long, all three raised their beers together.

Similar scenes played out more than once while passing through the rectangular paddock on the way to the stables.

Though crowds and noise were unpleasant, this festival-like atmosphere was not particularly