Greyhound Racing

The competition was so cutthroat that it took five years for Bryant to finally build the park he wanted. When the park was nearing completion, the Houston Chronicle published an article claiming that it would be "the biggest, most expensive and most likely richest racetrack ever built in this country" with a total price tag of around $50 million.

The track manager at the time, Butch Hughes, made rosy predictions. Hughes thought Gulf would be capable of yearly handles (the total amount of money bet at the track) of $250 million to $300 million and the highest purses ever recorded in the history of dog racing. The hype spread across the state. "If you've ever bred, led or raced a dog, this is what you hope for," said Jerry Donahew, a breeder.

Within three years, the huge handles disappeared. By 2006, the total on-track handle at Gulf was a relatively meager $18 million, about 6 percent of what track officials projected in 1992. Most of the track's revenue — another $36 million — comes from simulcast wagering on horse and dog races in other states.

The clubhouse and restaurant are now closed. There's no more valet parking. Ebbs estimates that total attendance at Gulf on a good night is around 1,200. "When I got into it, dog and horse racing were the only games in town," he says. "I've watched the whole gambling scene really blow up since the early '90s. Greyhound and horse racing have gone from the only games in town to just one of many choices."

Other tracks in the state have suffered even more. Corpus Christi Dog Track cut back races for the rest of 2007 after losing two kennels in recent months. Track Manager Rick Pimental said that while his track had no plans to close in the near future, "2008 is still up in the air."

The situation is worse in other parts of the country. In August the track in Wichita, Kansas, ceased live racing of greyhounds. Racing opponents in Massachusetts are promising a referendum on a statewide ban on the sport in the November 2008 election. Even in Florida — the Hollywood of dog racing — the sport has declined sharply. From 1993 to 2003, attendance at Florida tracks fell from 11.4 million to 2.7 million and the track in Tampa Bay also opted out of live races.

In early 2007, New Hampshire — the site of one of Wake Up's biggest triumphs — came close to banning its three greyhound tracks altogether out of animal cruelty concerns.

Money is only one problem for the dog racing business. The other is image.

Many animal rights activists are quick to mention dog racing and dog fighting in the same breath. And the perception that the sport is followed by a down-at-the-heels crowd doesn't help, either. Jay Sabatucci, the Southwest regional director for The Humane Society of the United States, puts it this way: "Greyhound racing is the poor man's horse racing. It's like the B movie of the racing industry. It's ­pitiful."

Mike Parmetti, Gulf's Marketing Director, is working on strategies to lure people to the track. Thursday is 50-cent draft beer night. There are Harley-Davidson giveaways and free trips to Las Vegas during the summer. On Fridays, there's an all-you-can-eat crawfish buffet for $9.95. Then, there's something called Dog Chip Bingo, advertised with this teaser: "If your puppy poops or pees in the right position, win a prize!"

During a recent Thursday night, a track employee led an ex-racing greyhound around the crowd while promoting the track's adoption program. The dog was a huge hit with the kids. A little girl hugged the greyhound tightly around the neck while others petted the dog on the head.

"That's what really makes me happy, because a lot of people think these dogs are bred to be machines. They actually make good pets," Ebbs says. "We've adopted 2,000 dogs since we opened. It's something we're real proud of."

But animal activists don't generally join Ebbs in his self-congratulation.

Marnie Reeder, greyhound rescuer, spends most of her time tracking down abandoned greyhounds and finding homes for them. She says that the main problem with the sport isn't track or kennel conditions. It's what happens after a dog's racing career is over. "The dogs get dumped," she says. "It's a mad scramble to match dogs with suitable homes. The breeders don't know the dogs well enough to match them. They know how they'll work at the track, but they don't know how they'll do in a home."