Derby 1. Journalism 0.

 Ah, what the hell. I never liked lousy weather, either.

I was never a big fan of standing on a squishy sideline while a bunch of earnest high school kids churned 100 yards of turf into mud lasagna. And then wading through the mud lasagna trying not to ruin my pricey sportswriter sneaks, which were actually off-brand knockoffs I got for 29 bucks at If You Shoes You Lose.

In other words, I feel Journalism's pain.

The 3-1 fave in the Kentucky Derby got a late start and splashed home second in the 151st running, on a day when the winner, Sovereignty, more properly should have been named "Duck!" or "Don't Forget To Duck" or something similarly aquatic-fowl-related.

It rained, in other words. And the track was officially designated as "sloppy." Which was another way of saying it was mud lasagna, or perhaps "a front-line trench at Ypres in 1917."

So not only did Journalism come up short, it got a goop bath on top of it.

This of course is what every scribe with a press card in his or her hatband should have expected, as familiar as we all are with such indignities. We all have our figurative goop bath stories, it seems -- and, no, I'm not talking about Fearless Leader getting all butt-hurt because someone dared to commit  journalism on him, and threatening to shut the offender down like every other tinpot schmuck who ever entertained delusions of godhood.

No, sir. The goop stories I refer to are far more everyday.

There was that time, for instance, when we had to climb a fence to get out of a high school football stadium because everyone forgot we were there. Or all the times we waited out some coach or athlete who was operating on Sundial Time.  Or every championship Monday night at the NCAA Tournament,  when our deadlines would press us to death like a New England witch because Big TV refused to tip the game until almost 9:30 p.m.

Not that we're bitter or anything. 

In any event, Journalism came up short, and only paid $7.50 to place on top of it.  So Journalism was a chintzy bet, too. Something else we all could have predicted.

Which brings me to my Derby joke for this May, humor often being journalism's (or, Journalism's) fallback defense.

See, in addition to Journalism, there was a horse named Publisher in the perpetually overcrowded Derby field. Publisher turned out to be a four-legged meatloaf, finishing 32 1/4 lengths behind the winner in 14th place. But considering how gumption-free some publishers are these days in backing their journalists' play, I figure Publisher at least made a timely punchline:

Q: Why did Journalism fail to win the Derby?

A: Because Publisher wouldn't let him.

Well. I think it's funny.