CICERO, Ill. -- I'm cranking out assignments at Hawthorne Race Course today -- coverage of a novel twilight race card, update on injured jockey Michael Straight, two blogs, a profile of this oval -- anatomy of a racetrack. It is cloudy and gloomy and drizzling and the weatherman is calling for snow over the weekend. The city braces for the possibility. This is not the first time Thoroughbred racing has been conducted under lights in Chicago -- it was done frequently at Balmoral, and intermittently at Arlington throughout the years (including a week of night racing in 1969). But it is the first time Thoroughbred racing under lights has come to Hawthorne, and the first time there's been Thoroughbred night racing in the area in several years. 1:35 p.m. and they're sealing the track, John Deere tractors plugging along over the muddy oval. The turf course is a brilliant emerald green. In the distance, planes climb sharply out of Midway. It is opening day at Keeneland and I'm here. Glass could be half empty, I'll make it full instead. I never really realized how close I felt to Chicago racing, the tight-knit circuit of Arlington and Hawthorne. You get caught up in the travel, the Kentucky Derbies and Breeders' Cups and Saratogas of the game, and their allure is always stronger because of the glamorous, unknown, and because home will be there. You can always go back. Hawthorne kind of gets a bad rep, but it's not the racetrack's fault. Blame it on the winter weather (usually crummy) or the surrounding neighborhood (gray, industrial), or the facility which is not quite as bad as Pimlico (the elevator here doesn't get stuck), but in some ways inches close. Still, there are plusses, like the fact that if you can't be in New York or California or Kentucky or Florida and if you happen to have a chance to sneak out of the suburbs or over from the city, you can catch a live card. That's good, right? And the fact that Hawthorne is the oldest continuously-run family-owned and operated racetrack in the nation is nothing to sneeze at. I head downstairs to interview track president Tim Carey, fourth generation owner/operator of the oval. Sure, Hawthorne is blue-collar, he says. Nothing wrong with that. An honest man could make a decent living here, with a little bit of luck. My favorite quote about Hawthorne comes from Terry "McChump" Bjork: "The paddock at Hawthorne is inside, and downstairs, and I never ever go down there because it would require some effort, so all I have to say about it is that it is indoors and downstairs." That pretty much captures the essence of the oval -- undiscovered nooks and crannies, the regulars heading to lucky spots, newcomers wandering around in slight confusion. They turn the lights on at 4:30 p.m. as riders start checking in, and trainers are prepping their runners over on the backside, and horseplayers are settling down. Before long the field is parading before the stands, loaded into the gate, rounding the final turn, splashing home across a beam of light shining down on the wire. It's 5:36 p.m. and we're just getting started. This night racing thing ain't so bad.