As I have said numerous times I am not a sports fan.  Even more so, I definitely am not a horse racing fan or even have an interest in horse racing. But, like most, I could not help but to be caught up in the American Pharoah fever. I admit that I begrudgingly sat down to watch the Preakness after my husband asked me to spend the three minutes of the race with him. I emerged a fan after watching the horse roar through the torrential downpours and run to win the race as if it was a beautiful, cloudless day. My fandom became even more entrenched when I read that the jockey, Victor Espinoza, donates a portion of his winnings to cancer research.

On Saturday afternoon, my daughter, Calli, had a group of her friends over to celebrate her graduation from graduate school. But all of the outdoor festivities came to a standstill at 6:40 when everyone trekked inside to watch the race. As the race began a silence fell over the room which quickly turned to roars of “go,” and “look at him go.” To my surprise one of the people shouting was me. For those few minutes the entire room had a common goal, to watch American Pharoah win the triple crown.

One of my favorite moments of the day was when Espinoza’s post race heartfelt exclamation of “Oh s**t.” was caught on a microphone. That one brief raw human moment, to me, caught the true spirit of the day. For a few moments we were all connected; rooting for a horse and a man to achieve something that had been unattainable for thirty-seven years. Were you watching?