For many, the Preakness is as much about socializing as horse racing. A group of 20 friends drove down from Philadelphia, as they do every year. Six middle-aged men came in from York, Pa., and set up in the infield amid college students from everywhere. The Phi Sigma Kappa fraternity at Towson University brought more than 100 30-packs of light beer. They inflated wading pools, filled them with ice and tossed in the beers.
The infield, filled to its 60,000 capacity by 10:30 a.m., was the usual scene of youthful debauchery. Guys wrestled in the mud. Girls were exhorted to shed clothing. Sheets of plastic were turned into makeshift sliding devices. And full beer cans flew through the air for no discernible reason. A few people climbed to the roofs of the portable toilets to reprise last year's infamous "Running of the Urinals." But with the toilets spaced apart this year, they didn't get very far.
From the roof of the grandstand, Pimlico staff and city police and fire officials monitored the infield with binoculars and used radios to direct security to fights or other disturbances. By the end of the day, 126 people had been ejected. It takes some effort to be tossed from the Preakness. Police walked under flying beer cans and through a haze of marijuana smoke without batting an eye.
Police made six arrests, said police spokesman Troy Harris. Two of the arrests were for assault, three for failure to obey police orders and one for disorderly conduct. Pimlico staff made 17 calls for medical assistance to the infield, though no major injuries were reported.
With the track not even visible from much of the infield, the Preakness seemed secondary to the partying. But races throughout the day at least provided an entertaining backdrop. Ana Cruz, an Arizona State University student who gave her age as "21 for the record," said she was waiting for the start of an early race before drinking another beer from the inflatable pool she filled with the help of friends.
Few of the students seemed interested in betting. "All I had money for was beer, tickets and food," said Rich Cline, 22, of Annapolis, listing the items in order of priority.
Not far away, Bill Little, 54, and a half-dozen friends sat on folding chairs, eating fried chicken. They've been coming to the Preakness every year since 1976 and say they prefer the "activity" of the infield to the civility of the grandstand. The oldest in the group was 58, the youngest 46. They said that they hated to see horses injured in racing but that it's a part of the sport.
