Mock Thoroughbreds

Cannabis is leading by a head as the racers approach the finish line. Backers of Gourmet Belch in the crowd of 450 spectators ringing the course have not lost hope, however, because their favorite is making a determined run at the leader. Suddenly Gourmet Belch stops dead in its tracks and Cannabis veers off unexplainably. From back in the pack Motown Missile, pride of the Israeli Rocket Racing Stables, surges down the stretch, takes the lead, and sprints home the winner--by a beak.

The sport of kings this is not. Instead of the turf at Churchill Downs, the course is in the asphalt parking lot outside Brennan's bar at Marina Del Rey in Los Angeles. And despite his come-from-behind victory, Motown Missile has yet to prove that he deserves to be classed with the legendary Sea Biscuit, a sprinter without peer and the all-time mock thoroughbred turtle.

At Brennan's anyway. Chelonian racing has been popular in California for over a decade, but at Brennan's it has become a cult. Each Thursday evening up to 700 aficionados toting map turtles, pacific pond turtles, diamondbacks and other favored varieties converge on the bar in search of a spot on its 13-race card and the chance to cart home a plywood trophy. There are time sheets and a record book, and the turtle with the evening's fastest time has its name engraved on a plaque that sits behind the bar. The track record is held by Sea Biscuit. He once covered the 8-ft. distance from the center of the 16-ft. circle that serves as the course in a harelike four seconds flat.

Sea Biscuit Owner Jim Mooney, a machinist from nearby Torrance, transports him and the 30 other terrapins he races in water-filled ice chests in the back of his Dodge "turtle van." Says Mooney: "It shows a lot of class if you can keep a turtle healthy and running for five or six years." Main threat to the turtles' health: the customers at Brennan's. Fueled up on "jelly beans," a deadly concoction of anisette and blackberry brandy, they pose a mortal threat to the hardtop thoroughbreds plodding underfoot.

The action attracts its share of celebrities. Actor Clint Eastwood races a champion named Big Bertha, and Comedian Dick Smothers owns a speedster named Juan Fangio, named after the retired Argentine Grand Prix driver. Smothers' wife Linda thinks she knows the reason for Juan Fangio's success: "Turtles are supposed to like lettuce, tomatoes and broccoli, but ours will eat raw hamburger." Says Jim Duffer, master of ceremonies at Brennan's, who calls the races attired in a green tuxedo: "I can't stand the little beasts. They bite."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.