Alfred Pollock knew at age eight that he wanted to race horses. By the time he was in high school, he had already designed a course for sneaking out of Commerce High School on the Upper Westside of New York City. He arrived with binoculars, a racing form, and betting money, but sneaked stealthily down the steps and out the doors to the racetracks. Reviewing his doo-day days-a term from Stephen Foster's famous song, "Camptown Races"-Pollock combines a natural flair for finding the irony and absurdity in each event. Readers will be magnetized by Pollock's retelling of his uproarious, rib-tickling adventures-some raucous, some surreal, many unbelievable. Add to those scenes his ingenious reworking of and commenting on the rich language he encounters, and you have one remarkable personal testimony based on tenacious perseverance.