The Children of Dan Patch

Minneapolis attorney Stefan Tolin’s love of racing began when he was a boy growing up near New Jersey’s Monmouth Park. He worked as a groom and a hot-walker and, at age 12, discovered that not being old enough was a minor impediment to getting a bet down. The real problem was finding the money to bet with.

He devised a scheme. Several times a week he dressed himself in a Little Lord Fauntleroy outfit and headed for the nearby Idlewild Airport, where he’d join the line to buy a ticket to Paris. As his turn drew near he’d search through his pockets with increasing desperation, then break into tears. When his fellow ticket seekers tried to comfort him, he’d explain that he’d just realized he was $20 short for his ticket, and thus unable to join his family in Europe. “People don’t like handing out quarters to moochers,” he explains, “but they might give 20 bucks to somebody who’s in the kind of jam they can imagine themselves in.”

He’s been betting ever since.

Tolin is just one of many lawyers in Minnesota with more than a passing interest in horse racing. At Canterbury Downs, when winning owners are introduced after a big race, many turn out to be well-known members of the bar.

“Lots of lawyers own horses,” says Logan “Nick” Foreman, Minneapolis attorney and head of the Minnesota Thoroughbred Association. “I bought my first horse in 1989, and I’ve partnered with other lawyers over the years, although frankly I prefer owning horses individually. So do most lawyers. It’s the nature of the beast—the lawyer, not the horse.”

Joe Friedberg and his wife, Carolyn, partner amicably in the racing business. “She’s the one who can spot a horse with potential at a sale,” he says. “It’s instinctive. She has it; I don’t. There are certain characteristics you’re supposed to look for, but,” he adds with a smile, “if you want to see a horse that doesn’t possess those traits, the winner’s circle is a good place to look.”

The Friedbergs’ mutual fascination with horse racing predates their marriage. “We always loved it, always went to the races,” says Friedberg, “but for a long time we couldn’t afford to own.”

That changed when he represented a jockey on a criminal matter, and was introduced to the “backside”—literally the stable and exercise area behind the track, figuratively the repository of the arcana that makes racing interesting. It was a world they both found compelling. “We saw the life back there, the care and devotion those horses got, and I’d just come into a small inheritance, so we made up our minds to buy a horse,” he says. Horses can cost anywhere from a few thousand dollars to the millions.

The tale of that filly—a 3-year-old named Shared Reflections—purchased for $17,000, is the kind owners like to tell. Between the purse she won and some bets Friedberg made on her, she paid for herself with her first race. “Right then we decided we should get as many of those animals as possible,” he says. “I thought, ‘Whoa! I can quit my day job.’”

That horse went on to win more than $125,000, and the Friedbergs have purchased many more since, but he hasn’t quit his day job. “This is a very tough business to make money in,” he says. “If you don’t love the sport, if you don’t enjoy the track and the company, then it’s not for you.”

It is definitely for him. “There is an affinity between people and horses that’s hard to explain,” he says. “It has something to do with the fact that they are beautiful creatures, particularly beautiful in motion, and thrilling to watch, especially if you have a stake in the outcome. And they are 100 percent loyal. They’ll run themselves to death for you.”

It’s that last quality that Friedberg considers a key to understanding why lawyers like to own horses. “Trial law, especially criminal trial law, is very taxing on the lawyer/client relationship,” he says. “Clients are not one hundred percent loyal to their attorneys. Not even close.”

He also notes that trial lawyers are gamblers by nature and the risk when you buy a horse is considerable. Boarding, training, shoeing and providing veterinary services for a horse stabled at a track runs about $2,200 per month, for the duration of the running season. When the horse is stabled off track, $1,700 per month is average.

The aspect of horse ownership Foreman finds most fascinating is the research and analysis. “Now you can buy a computer program,” he says, “but I’ve always found that doing it yourself is helpful in many ways, especially handicapping.”

Foreman sees parallels between a horse owner’s quest to win a major race, or to own a stallion that commands huge stud fees, with an attorney’s search for the one big case that will make his fortune. “And, of course, as a trial lawyer you always want to beat the adversary with the sterling reputation,” he says. “Likewise, as an owner you want to beat the horse that someone bought for a million dollars. You especially want to beat him with a horse that you raised from a yearling.”

Stillwater attorney Jack Walsh was the leading thoroughbred owner in the state as of July 2007, having won more than $44,000 by finishing in the money in seven out of 14 starts at Canterbury. Nevertheless, he sees the eternal struggle with disappointment as a parallel between owning horses and practicing law.

“I served as Washington County public defender for many years and I’ve had my own trial practice since,” Walsh says. “Most of my career has been spent defending people who allegedly committed crimes, often people who’ve run afoul of our absurd drug laws. The prosecution holds all the cards. If they don’t like their prospects, they fold, so if they don’t fold you may well be disappointed in the outcome. Horse racing, if you’re into it in a serious way, involves a lot of unrealized expectations as well. You can’t win them all; realistically, you can only win a small percentage of them, and many horses that you had high hopes for simply don’t succeed.”

Stefan Tolin has his own ideas about the relationship between practicing law and owning horses.

“I stable my horses in Louisiana,” Tolin says, “and there are days when I’d rather be down there shoveling shit out of their stalls than listening to one more pedophile tell me why I should represent him.”

Tolin is equally blunt about the interplay between law and owning horses in his personal life. “I’ll never be a high-powered attorney but I might sell a $100,000 yearling,” he says. “I might win a graded stakes race. I’ve been a lawyer for 28 years and, to be honest, I’m losing interest. Horse racing, owning horses, betting horses—now, that’s interesting.”

And, for tax purposes, it dovetails nicely with Tolin’s profession. In his opinion. The IRS isn’t so sure. He writes off losses incurred owning horses against his earnings as a lawyer, a practice that has put him in a running battle with the tax collectors.

“They actually claim that if you don’t own the farm where your horses are stabled, you aren’t a material participant in the business,” he explains. “It’s as if the time I spend meeting with advisers, putting together promotion for my stallion, attending seminars, talking to breeders, and all the money I spend stabling, training and transporting horses is some kind of rich man’s hobby. Well, it isn’t. I’m not the Sheik of Dubai. I’m a material participant in a commercial enterprise with legitimate tax considerations.” He has been audited twice, and though the IRS has issued no decision yet, he expects his views will prevail either through an administrative decision or in tax court.

He hasn’t given up his practice, but over the years it has increasingly reflected his interest in racing. Along with his trial work, he practices equine representation, dealing with matters like syndication and breeding rights, and representing jockeys and trainers before stewards and racing commissions. There’s plenty of work. “God gave jocks one more brain cell than horses, so they don’t poop in the stall,” he says, “but they do a lot of other inexplicable things.”

Most lawyers contacted for this article were reluctant to discuss the business aspects of horse ownership in any detailed way. Walsh owns a farm where he keeps his horses, which simplifies things tax-wise.

“Something you have to take into consideration when you’re in any agricultural business is the land you own,” Walsh says. “Whether you’re growing crops or stabling horses, that land is increasing in value, so there’s that aspect of owning horses. That’s not why I’m in it, though. I suspect the other lawyers feel the same way I do. I own horses because I can afford to, I enjoy the sport, I love the animals and it makes a nice diversion from the practice of law.”